THE ENTOMOLOGIST’S WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. 
95 
as Shelley most exquisitely says. A 
woodcutter’s little child, not much higher 
than the flowers, was toddling about 
among them carrying a little basket, into 
which it endeavoured to put some of the 
flowers it had pulled, but every now and 
then startled by the appearance of a 
Melitcea Euplirosyne which settled before 
it. I was delighted with the picture. 
How long I remained in the shade of 
the trees I do not know, but when I 
again got upon the road, the sun was 
still doing his utmost to turn the earth 
into dust. I took the open ground 
covered with heather, but took nothing 
worth notice, except a large black Mhy- 
parochromus under a stone, Conurus 
lividus and Rhyparochromus decoratns, 
Hahn., under some sticks by a road-side, 
and Philorhinum humile, out of the 
flowers of the furze, from which a melli- 
fluous odour loaded the atmosphere over 
the whole expanse. 
On another day I went with a party 
to Hursley, six miles further on the 
Winchester road, and in Sir William 
Heathcote’s Park, which is freely open 
to the public, I found under dead leaves 
Haploylossa puUa. The park is old, 
having been the property of Richard, son 
of Oliver Cromwell, and is finely laid 
out and wooded. I was particularly 
struck with the great quantity of misletoe 
which grows exclusively on the white- 
thorn, and with the great size of the 
maple trees, which are very numerous. 
From one of them in full blossom T beat 
two examples of the rare moth Sligmo- 
nota Jloricolana, which I had heard fre- 
quented maples, but which I had never 
before seen alive. 
The park contains the ruins of an 
ancient castle, with its mound and fosse, 
and this spot is much frequented by pic- 
nic parties. One Paterfamilias was found 
by us in the act of superintending the 
jovialities of his children, among whom 
we espied an entomologist who readily 
fraternised with me, showed me the pro- 
duce of his day’s collecting, and gave me 
the small pins I so greatly needed for 
my two StigmonotcB, an act of kindness 
I hope he may, if he wants it, find 
some one on the occasion to show to 
him. 
J. W. Douglas. 
Lee, June 18. 
THE TWO ANNUALS. 
W^HEN days, succumbed to pressure hard 
Exerted through the year. 
Have dwindled to the shortest span. 
And drag on dull and drear ; 
When men sit o’er the fire and think 
Of sunshine then no more. 
And in anticipation greet 
The sunny days in store ; 
’Tis then for entomologists 
The ‘ Annual ’ comes forth. 
And shows how thrives their Science in 
This island of the North. 
A welcome friend the ‘ Annual,’ 
Although its yellow face 
Suggests an overflow of bile, — 
As sometimes is the case. 
The Winter, rough and homely nurse, 
With hoarse voice tries to sing, 
As in her cradle rude she rocks 
Her glorious child the Spring, 
That, bred in hardship and in cold. 
Becomes at once full grown. 
Kiss-mouthed, blue-eyed, and beauty- 
clad. 
And claims earth for her own. 
