47 
The blues as a family are much given to variation, and one is 
astonished when one comes to examine each specimen carefully. The 
fact of their being so common is one reason of their being passed over 
by the careless observer without any special notice. This is what I 
used to do till 1894, when in the August of that year, when staying at 
Folkestone, I found P. corydon were very few in number, so occasion¬ 
ally went over to Dover for them, all books giving Dover for corydon 
.in plenty. I was a long time before I dropped on them in any 
numbers; in various hollows they simply swarmed, but away from 
these only spare ones here and there were found, and so marked is this 
peculiarity that, while in the hollows this side of Cornhill Coastguard 
station they revel in hundreds, on the other side of Cornhill (I cfo not 
mean the Cornhill near Fenchurch Street, but Saint Margaret’s Bay) 
you can go a thousand yards and only see a few, until you get to the 
next hollow, where they again occur in hundreds. It is very easy to 
account for this, as it is very bleak at times on the top of these cliffs 
nearly 400 feet above the sea, as anyone who gets caught in a storm 
of wind and rain will soon discover. There is always, more or less, a 
breeze on top of these heights, and when it blows hard nothing can 
withstand the strong hand of the invisible—not even an ardent ento¬ 
mologist. The hollows, on the other hand, are sheltered and atford a 
good ground for breeding. My first aberration was taken in August, 
1894; before this time P. corydon was no more to me than an ordinary 
white. I prize my first aberration as I look on it as the start of my 
search for these lovely forms, and each year has found me more keen 
than ever in the pursuit. I could not understand my capture of a 
corydon without any spots, and I thought I had something extra¬ 
ordinary, but did not think of making farther search that season, or 
I might have got more. I had, however, often seen collectors on the 
spot boxing insects, but could never find out what insect they were 
after. I noticed that when they came up to me they asked if I had taken 
anything good, and when I showed my captures they would carefully 
scrutinise them without comment. They did not show me any of 
their captured aberrations, otherwise my eyes would have been opened. 
In August, 1895, I gave a little more attention to the species, but 
not so much as I do now. I find by my diary that I took three abs. 
all being ab. “ obsoleta.” During August, 1896, I took four more, all 
being ab. obsoleta, also one dwarf male, ab. “Minor,” this being the 
first small corydon I ever captured. During August, 1897, I stayed 
at Folkestone and made occasional visits to Dover, not especially for 
corydon, but anything that might turn up. Of course, P. corydon 
was in abundance and six aberrations were taken, which I then considered 
was a very good bag. August, 1898, was like the previous season, six 
abs. were taken, all Obsoleta. During 1899 I paid more attention to 
the males and was much struck by the range of colour, the blue varying 
from whitish-silver-blue to almost a sky-blue, one of my captures 
coming very near to adonis. I was also struck by the deep marginal 
bands in some of the specimens, and began to realise for the first time 
that there was something more in corydon, than a mere blue butterfly. 
In all I took nine ab. obsoleta. 
I well remember August, 1900, for I took some of my rarest forms, 
including a lovely female of a golden-colour, a most extraordinary 
•capture which, when I first saw it I passed by, thinking it was C. 
