THE YOUNG 



this seawards, here Nonagria despecta is flying 

 in greatest profusion, and we are soon busy 

 picking out the dark and fine examples, for 

 very many are pale and worn, but there is 

 no lack of numbers. As darkness is coming 

 on apace we light our lamps and work away 

 for an hour, both of us got a few emutaria, 

 but they are far from common ; it is a little 

 puzzling to pick them out on flight from the 

 number of common Hydrocampida , of which 

 we also select some strongly marked forms, 

 also some nice Schenohitis porficellus, which 

 were very variable. Common noctuae are 

 in plenty both at the rush flowers and Water 

 Betony, but nothing worth mentioning. 

 Poiatoria is flying here very freely. On 

 arriving at the end of the ditch, we follow 

 the fence to the sea, re-cross the shingle to 

 the sands again, as that is the best walking 

 ground, and for the next mile very little or 

 nothing can be done on the hills. By this 

 time the sky had clouded over and it rained 

 slightly, and we think our work finished for 

 the day, but by the time we reach the old 

 ruined summer-house on the cliff, it has 

 cleared off again, so we think it worth while 

 to have a turn for Lithosia pygmeola. We 

 leave the sands for the hills again and soon 

 find pygmeola out in great plenty ; you find 

 them sitting Crambiis-like on the stems of the 

 marram and other rough grasses ; they are 

 very easy to detect, and can generally be 

 boxed without trouble. From the ground 

 we are now on, for the next half-mile or so 

 we are busy filling our boxes with picked 

 examples of pygmeola, and Cledeobia angus- 

 talis is also pretty common, but not easy to 

 find in fine condition. Only a single speci- 

 men of Meliana anella fell to my lot (the 

 only one of the evening), although in most 

 \ j seasons it is by no means rare here. By 

 the time we reach the sand pit, known as 

 " Sandy parlour," we have taken as many 

 pygmeola as we want, and pretty well exhaus- 

 ted our stock of boxes, in fact, I had to 

 borrow a couple of nests of my friend Adkin. 



NATUEALIST. 81 



As we are now getting close to the locality 

 for the long rare, Nola centonalis, for which 

 we purpose giving an hour's attention, 

 I very soon find a pair sitting in copula on 

 the grass, and follow this up shortly by a 

 second ditto. Stooping and closely inspect- 

 ing the grass stems and stunted bushes of 

 Hippophae rhamnoides (Sea Buckthorn), for 

 an hour, and for result, we have had the 

 great good fortune of finding 19 centonalis ! 

 Curiously each had taken three pairs in 

 copula. I found ten and Adkin nine, we 

 were very pleased with the take especially 

 as we had the opportunity of eggs {from the 

 ova obtained I bred a long and varied series in 

 October). As we were by this time burning 

 our " midnight oil," and our backs beginning 

 to remind us of our lowly occupation, having 

 a mile to walk, we started for home and 

 supper, for which nine hours rambling over 

 Deal Sandhills had given us a good zest. 

 In the above account the mention of a lot 

 of generally distributed insects has been 

 purposely omitted, but enough has been 

 said to prove the locality an El Dorado for 

 the Lepidopterist 



THE LIFE OP A YORKSHIRE 

 NATURALIST. 



Chap. I.— His Early Years. 



The subject of this narrative, James 

 Varley, of Almondbury Bank, near Hud- 

 dersfield, was born on the 3rd of May, 181 7, 

 at Bunker's Hill, near the above mentioned 

 town. His parents, John and Rachel Var- 

 ley, were peop'ein the very humblest cir- 

 cumstances, and like most others similarly 

 situated at that time, had frequently to feel 

 the pangs of want. 



Bunker's Hill, now forms part of a popu- 

 lous and thriving section of the industrial 

 town of Huddersfield, but is no longer 

 known by that name. The very house in 

 which Varley was born has been greatly 



