THE WEEKLY ENTOMOLOGIST. 
223 
could look anything- bettei- than an 
insane chemist going fishing ! 
Longingly I look at the still sea, 
whose little waves wash lazily 
against the shore, Avith that musical 
dash that sends one to sleep very 
comfortably after dinner. But, of 
course, solemn pairs of ladies are 
visible far up the shore, marching 
with that agreeable pertinacity, 
which seems to say “ bathe not ” to 
heated mortals. So we take to the 
cliffs again, and make our way on- 
ward, under the glowing sun, till we 
reach one of those deep dells that 
lie carpeted with a lovely variation 
of summer floAvers, and below which, 
over the hard and pebbly shore, the 
sea stretches away to where, in the 
dim distance, there looms the 
shadowy coast of Prance. 
Here, at last, we find that our 
little friends are not quite knocked 
over by the heat, and Vitalbata 
serves as a capital retainer for future 
efforts. Here, too, the lovely Ptero- 
phorus phoeodactylus is busily buzzing 
over the red bloom of the rest- 
harrow ; and Parvidactylus, a very 
concentration of slyness and activity, 
appears and gives us the slip. Fus- 
cus is by no means scarce in this 
P tor options haunted dell. 
Bye and bye JJomithca Thymiaria 
shows its green Avings, and Phyto- 
metra PEnea makes a wild rushing 
journey in its neighbourhood. A 
little further on, Asp Hates Gilvaria 
turns up, flying over the chalky 
ground. 
But uoav the heat becomes posi- 
tively unbearable, "and has gained its 
utmost power. We can stand it no 
longer, and the sight of a lively 
bather who is apparently running 
races against time on the cool shore 
decides us. The old ladies have 
gone home to lunch; there are no 
bathing machines, no dank haired 
mortals making a useless effort to 
get dry in the sun — “ no nothink,” 
only our lively ^friend, whose puppy is 
keeping- guard over his clothes (an 
office which seems to be a sinecure), 
and a little ragged boy drawing 
water. The prospect of sixpence 
induces the latter to rush away in 
search of towels, and we are soon 
beyond the reach of care for some 
twenty minutes. Then we find a 
cool place among the rocks, and 
lying down on our coats, enjoy 
delicious laziness, within the sound 
of the breaking tide. But our 
boxes are not full yet, and we take 
to the cliffs again, feeling like giants 
refreshed. 
Galatliea is still lively enough ; 
FiUpendulce seems to meditate a nap, 
for Ave catch him several times, at 
rest on the flowers, from which he 
might have got his dinner. Shaping 
our course by the side of the rail- 
way, we come to a large patch of 
capital ground — ground resplendent 
with flowers . The afternoon sun is 
beginning to sink, and the day is 
