198 THE PAINTED LADY BUTTERFLY. 
speed of an arrow ; yet returns, and with suspicious 
vigilance continues its employ, feeding always on the 
wing. Nature seems to have given this creature some 
essential requisites for its safety ; its activity, when on 
the wing, renders its capture difficult; and when it 
rests, it is on a wall, the bark of a tree, or some dusky 
body, that assimilates so nearly to its own color, as to 
render it almost invisible, though watched to its settle- 
ment; and the larva is seldom found. We sometimes 
see it enter our rooms, attracted by flowers in the open 
windows ; but it seems to be immediately aware of its 
danger, disappears in an instant, and is safe from cap- 
ture. Wild and fearful as this creature is by nature, 
yet continued gentle treatment will remove much of its 
timidity, and render it familiar to our presence. Per- 
fectly free from any annoyance as they are when ranging 
from sweet to sweet on my borders, and accustomed to 
a close inspection of all their operations, I have fre- 
quently touched their wings with my fingers, while 
hovering oyer a flower, and dipping their long tubes 
into the corolla of a geranium : they would retire a lit- 
tle, confused with such freedoms and interruptions, but, 
experiencing no harm, they would return and finish 
their meal, unmindful of such petty annoyances. I have 
known this creature, like some other insects, counterfeit 
death when apprehensive of danger, fall on its back, 
and appear in all respects devoid of life when in a box ; 
and, as soon as a fit opportunity arrived, dart away with 
its usual celerity. 
On the blue heads of the pasture scabious (scabiosa 
succisa) we occasionally see, toward the end of the 
summer, the painted lady butterfly (papilio cardui) ; but 
this is a creature that visits us at very uncertain periods, 
and is vivified by causes infinitely beyond the compre- 
hension of the entomologist, seeming to require a suc- 
cession and variety of seasons and their change, and 
then springing into life we know not how. This was 
particularly obvious in the summer of 1815, and the 
two following, which were almost unceasingly cold and 
rainy ; scarcely a moth or butterfly appeared. And in 
the early part of 1818, the season was not less ungenial ; 
