THE ENTOMOLOGIST’S WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. 
175 
out? A good beginning — Lithosia hnl- 
vola !” I thought to myself, “Why 
shouldn’t Helvola be in this yew tree as 
well as in those in Headley Lane?” I 
accordingly arose and smote the yew : 
down came spiders and earwigs in abun- 
dance, but no moths. I went round to 
the other side : surely that was a moth 
that flew out over the field! Whack! 
whack ! A narrow-looking moth falls on 
the ground, — a Lithosia certainly. It 
was one I had never captured ‘ before, 
and decidedly “yellowish,” and though I 
did not know it then, I afterwards found 
it to be Helvola. I felt very thankful to 
Mr. Shield, and whacked away for some 
time without further results in the way of 
Lepidoptera, though three or four other 
orders were numerously represented. By 
the way, I always thought it very strange 
how “ few and far between” are the moths 
one gets by heating: earwigs, beetles, 
Diptera and Cimicidae are very abundant, 
and many queer - looking things one 
doesn’t know what to make of are to be 
found in the net. I don’t know whether 
the Lepidoptera allow themselves to be 
beaten in like manner and abundance 
into the nets of collectors of other 
orders ; if they do it would be very con- 
venient for the Lepidopterist to make ex- 
changes of his “ rubbish ” for the “ rub- 
bish” of other ’Pterists. 
After the capture of Helvola I pro- 
ceeded to ascend the Hill. The handsome 
A. Filipenclula whirred lazily about on 
the slope, and the beautiful bee orchis 
attracted attention by its profusion. On 
the chalky foot-path the brilliant and 
active Cicindelce were gleaming in the 
hot sunshine, ever and anon taking short 
flights as 1 approached. On the summit 
I rested for awhile to look back upon the 
beautiful and wide-extended view be- 
neath. The road from Dorking, the rail- 
way, with its impatient train panting to 
be off at the little Box Hill Station, the 
whole stretch of country from Betchworth, 
and far away to the South, where the 
distant wooded hills melted into the sky, 
lay like a map before me, — everything 
bright and glowing under the glorious 
June sun. 
I then struck into the wood, and on my 
way through the varying shade alid sun- 
light contrived to obtain the following 
moths by beating: — Epliyra trilinearia , 
Harpalyce ruptaria, Eupithecia exiguaria 
and Botys pandalis. Just as I was near 
the end of the wood on the Mickleliam 
side, an old man in a smock-frock rose 
from a stump, where he had been sitting, 
and informed me that it was “a fine 
raornin’.” In this I agreed with him, and 
was passing on, when he said, “ Would ye 
like me to show ye where Major Labber- 
leer (Labelliere) was buried, sir?” I bad 
read the story in the guide-book, and was 
therefore not desirous of seeing where this 
immortal personage was buried : I there- 
fore said that I didn’t mind about it, and 
wouldn’t trouble him, &c. However, he 
wouldn’t leave me, and dinned into my 
ear the following, as I walked on : — “ He 
was berried sum years ago, bein’ a officer 
o’ mareens, with his ’ead downwards, for 
he said that, as the world was turned 
topsy-turvy, ’e couldn’t only come right 
at last — by bein’ — so deppozerted — ” 
(I walked rather too fast for him). “ IiOr’ 
bless ye, sir, — I’ve showed that ’ere grave 
o’ his’n — undreds o’ times, — man and 
boy, on this hill — for fifty year!” I ob- 
served that I thought it a great waste of 
time, when he became quite savage, and, 
swearing as hard as his short . breath 
allowed him to, he retired in a state of 
discomfiture. — Roland Trimen, 71, 
Guildford St., Russell Square, London, 
W.C. 
(To be continued ). 
SOLENOBL® AND PARTHENOGENESIS. 
A recent writer in ‘ The Midland Quar- 
terly Journal of the Medical Sciences,’ in 
