THE WEEKLY ENTOMOLOGIST. 
35 
A July Trip. How few of our 
Entomological friends give us any ac- 
count of their rambles and captures 
during the past summer ! Is it be- 
cause their exertions have resulted in 
disappointment, or because they have 
not bestirred themselves and made 
some endeavour to add a rarity or two 
to their collection ? The past season 
certainly was the worst as regards 
numbers of Lepidoptera that I ever 
remember during forty years of En- 
tomological experience ; yet a few 
good things fell to my lot from hard 
working and determined perseverance. 
It is not my intention to mention 
them here, but merely to give a short 
account of an unsuccessful trip, taken 
despite the sad and gloomy accounts of 
Entomological affairs in the country. 
It was upon the 16th of July, when 
by virtue of a railway ticket I found 
myself removed to some thirteen miles 
from Worcester, into the red sand- 
stone district, — a fine dry locality, 
especially good, I imagined, for in- 
sect developement. I commenced op- 
erations and fought away, m true 
“ Balaklavian ” style, for upwards of 
five miles, leaving nothing unattacked 
that was likely to yield any spoil, un- 
til I arrived near the famous Shraw- 
ley Wood. Will it be believed that 
I only beat out a brace of Magpies 
( A. Grossulariata ) and two or three 
equally common things. And did not 
even behold one single butterfly of 
any species throught the whole dis- 
tance ? But such was the case, al- 
though the day was fine, hot, and 
promising. I did not despair, not- 
withstanding, and after imbibing fresh 
hopes with spring water, dashed off to 
the wood, when, behold ! at its en- 
trance, a tirade of very threatening 
language posted up against “ all tres- 
passers.” Of course I did not choose 
to consider that this had any reference 
to myself, and I again fell to work 
from one end of it to the other, and 
energetically did my best, beating for 
larvae, macros and micros, until I had 
assailed all the best and most likely 
places in the wood. Only one larva 
worthy of notice tumbled into my 
net, it was JS r . Ziczac, and was feed- 
ing upon alder — quite a new circum- 
stance to me. The only butterflies I 
saw in the wood were S. Hyperanthus, 
S. Tithonus, aud A. Paphia, — about 
eight or ten each of the two former, 
and three only of the latter, one of 
which being very fresh, I took posses- 
sion of instanter. This species was 
usually plentiful in the locality. P. 
Stramentalis, I may also remark, was 
formerly a common insect here, but 
the flat weedy swamp where it flew 
has been converted into a pond, and 
only a small portion of it remains to 
afford protection to the species. Upon 
thoroughly hunting over this spot, I 
secured about a dozen, and after frigh- 
tening a perfect E. Heparata out of 
an Alder bush, which was most agree- 
ably conveyed into one of my recep- 
tacles, I took a farewell glance at the 
denunciations that were gibbetted 
aloft at the entrance of the wood, and 
made myself scarce in that most un- 
prolific and impolite part of the coun- 
try. In my retreat homewards, ac- 
