THE ENTOMOLOGIST’S 
WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. 
No. 30.] SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1857. [Price Id. 
BREAKFAST. 
It is pleasant in an old-fashioned country 
house, where a large party is assembled, 
to see the bright looks and cheerful 
countenances of the visitors, as one by 
one they make their appearance in the 
breakfast- room. There is something 
pleasant in the very neglige about break- 
fast ; no formal waiting in the drawing- 
room till all are collected, and no stiff 
semi-funereal march to the room where 
breakfast is prepared; but each indivi- 
dual, whether male or female, married or 
single, comes in to breakfast just when he 
or she thinks fit, well assured that from 
nine to eleven breakfast will be going on. 
Of course where there is so much ease 
and cheerfulness, there is much more 
pleasure in eating than on more solemn 
occasions. We like to see animals enjoy 
themselves ; we like to see man at his 
matutinal feeding time. 
Now man has either had a hearty sup- 
per late the previous night, or he has 
had a late dinner, or a substantial tea; 
certainly, at the most, fourteen hours 
have not elapsed since his last feed, and 
yet he calls this morning meal breaking 
his fast, as if we any of us knew what it 
was to fast. But at this time of the year 
a great many animals do indeed break 
their fast, for they have, perhaps, eaten 
nothing since last September and Octo- 
ber, consequently they have been fasting 
in downright good earnest. 
Among the animals which fast the 
live-long winter are many caterpillars ; 
and at this time of the year, when the re- 
viving warmth of spring reawakes them 
from their slumbers, they set about in 
search of breakfast with an energy which 
is quite surprising. Visit the hedges and 
young trees with a lantern some evening, 
and you will be quite surprised what a 
number of jaws you find at work. The 
leaves show manifest indications that the 
caterpillars are “ at breakfast.” 
Caterpillars are endowed with a 
stomach which is always craving for 
food, consequently it is a piece of 
thoughtless cruelty on the part of any 
entomologist to pounce upon an unfortu- 
nate caterpillar which has just sat down 
to breakfast, and to shut it up in a pill-box 
(i.e. a dark chamber) without food. How 
would the collector himself like to be 
violently carried away from the breakfast 
table, leaving the nice broiled ham on 
his plate and the slice of bread and 
butter be was actually raising to his 
mouth, and to be shut up in a dark 
room and left there for an unlimited 
time ? 
We fear, we sadly fear, that many 
caterpillars have, ere now, actually 
perished — died of starvation in the pill- 
boxes in which they have been abruptly 
placed when in the middle of breakfast. 
E 
