x 884-] Insect Preferences. 
Sedmn in the dull, impoverished crimson of its blossom is 
greatly beloved by butterflies, less so by bees. Its odour 
has the same sugary character, blended with a shade of 
aromatic pungency. 
Now if we compare with the plants above mentioned 
some oi those possessing odours the most agreeable to man 
such as the clove-pink, the carnation, especially the laven- 
™7 We hnd them relativel y neglecfted by inserts. 
We may, indeed, form a notion of the kind of odours dear 
to inserts from the mixtures used by lepidopterists in 
sugaring ” for moths. Coarse sugars, treacle, mixed with 
stale beer, rum, &c., attract not moths alone, but bees, wasps 
flies, and even some Coleoptera. ’ 
• ^ ere } S - n ° t a P re( blebIion, but an aversion of certain 
insects which is somewhat peculiar. Everyone who takes a 
walk in the fields and woods in warm, still, summer weather 
must have noticed the flies which hover round him and 
constantly strive to settle upon his eyes or intrude into the 
nostrils. These evil beings, whose chief mission seems to 
be the utter refutation of optimism, have a strange aversion 
to bricks and mortar, even in homoeopathic doses. The 
other day I walked along an open country road, persecuted 
Dy these obtrusive wretches. At last the road became the 
wide, straggling street of a small country town, bordered 
by cottages standing in groups of two and three together 
and separated from each other by gardens, orchards, and 
paddocks. Here the flies almost at once ceased to’ be a 
nuisance. 
On another occasion I had been taking a stroll amon^ 
the Chiltern Hills, and was there so buzzed about and 
crawled on that observation became well-nigh impossible 
Yet on my approaching the village of Little Kimble the an- 
noyance came to an end. I was particularly struck with 
this whilst waiting on the platform at the railway-station 
On the other side of the line— a single one, moreover— there 
was nothing but open fields and hedgerow trees. Why 
should the flies be so much less troublesome here than at 
the distance of a quarter of a mile, where there was similar 
scenery on both sides of the road ? I have repeatedly 
noticed similar phenomena, but I am at a loss for the ex- 
planation. If man is the appointed prey of these tiny 
harpies, why do they not follow him into the towns where 
he is more plentiful ? If trees and bushes and fields are 
necessary for their comfort, why do they disappear when 
these still form at least nine-tenths of the landscape ? 
Lastly, it must be noticed that hundreds of thousands of 
