THE ENTOMOLOGIST’S 
WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. 
No. 146.] SATURDAY, JULY 16, 1859 [Price Id. 
THE REIGATE GATHERING. 
The morning of the sixth July 
A crowd of men came down 
To Railway Station, London Bridge, 
And booked for Reigate Town. 
The booking clerk was quite amazed 
That all asked for one place, 
And wondered if they meant to go 
To see a fight or race. 
He wondered while he took a fare, 
Though no affair of his, 
And when one whispered “ Butterflies,” 
He took him for a quiz. 
The railway-carriages were filled 
To quite an overflow, 
Until at length the engine screams, 
And then away they go. 
There Smith and Stainton, Waterhouse, 
And long-lost Walton too, 
With Walker, Douglas, Stevens, all 
Old hunters good and true. 
There also Shepherd, Janson, Groves 
(But not of Blarney Stone), 
On whom I thought to make a pun— 
’Tis better let alone. 
And there were also Bowerbank, 
And Pascoe, Bond and Weir, 
With others whose unruly names 
In rhyme will not appear. 
Some showed the weapons of the chase, 
The bottle, box and net, 
And told how insect artifice 
By artifice was met. 
And how to kill the game when caught, 
By leaves of laurel bruised ; 
Some cyanide or chloroform, — 
One formic acid used. 
And past New Cross and Forest Hill, 
Then Croydon, Merstham run 
These jolly souls who made the train 
A vehicle of fun. 
The jokes and mirth at railway pace 
Still speeding bravely on, 
Were suddenly brought to a stand 
By shouts of “ Reigate Town. 
And all these men then left the train 
To driver and to guard, 
And thirty thirsty souls emerged 
From Reigate Station yard. 
There Wilson Saunders met the lot, 
With welcome for each guest, — 
For such these insect-hunters were,— 
Invited to his best. 
The best of hearts— a “ White Hart” too— 
Was open there and then, 
And at the latter knives and forks 
Were laid for thirty men. 
Soon nets were mounted, and the throng 
Went out o’er hill and dale ; 
But all the dodges most in use 
Were found of no avail ; 
R 
