CHAPTER VI

_CATCHING BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS_

It is not at all surprising that entomology should prove such a fascinating study to the young, and more especially that portion which deals with the department we are now considering. Butterflies and moths are among the most beautiful and most interesting of living creatures. The study of their life history is enchanting, and the creatures themselves are of such a size as to be conveniently handled and preserved, and withal occupy so little space that anyone with only moderate accommodation may possess a fairly typical collection.

Compare the work of the entomologist with that of one whose hobby is the study of mammals. The latter has to deal with large and cumbersome objects, a collection of which requires an enormous amount of space; and, unless he has the time and means to travel in foreign countries, he cannot get together a good typical collection of specimens representing his particular branch, for the few British mammals contain no representatives of several of the orders into which the class is divided.

Entomology is undoubtedly, _par excellence_, _the_ study for youngsters. It is equally suited to the studious and to those of an adventurous turn of mind. It leads its follower into the bright sunshine and the flowery meadows; and with body and mind pleasantly occupied, the joy of living is deeply felt. The necessary apparatus can be made by anyone. No dangerous gun is required, and there are no precipitous rocks to scale. When the autumn flowers fade the year's work of the entomologist is not done, for the arranging of his cabinet and the demands of his living specimens keep him more or less actively engaged until the flowers of the following spring call both him and the insects he loves once more into the field. And so, season after season, and year after year, he finds himself engrossed in labours so fascinating that idleness--the curse of so many of our youths--is with him an impossibility.

I assume that the readers of this book have a desire to take up the study of one branch of entomology--that of butterflies and moths--in real earnest; that they intend not only to _read_ about these interesting insects, but to _know_ them. And there is only one way in which one may really get to know living creatures; that is by searching them out in their haunts, observing their growth and habits, and by an occasional close examination in order to become acquainted with their structure.

Hence I shall in this, the practical portion of the work, give such information as will assist the beginner in catching, preserving, rearing, breeding, and arranging the specimens that are to form his collection.

_Catching Butterflies_

There was a time when we would try to capture a butterfly at rest on a flower by a quick sweep of the hand, or, more commonly, by a sharp downward stroke of the cap. We were led to this action by a mere childish love of sport, or by a desire to possess an insect simply because it was pretty. When we succeeded in securing our prize, we handled it somewhat carelessly, often passing it from one hand to the other, or boxing it in our closed and perspiring fist till our fingers were dusted with the pretty microscopic scales of the creature's wings, and the wings themselves, stripped of all their beautiful clothing, were merely transparent and veined membranes. Having thus carelessly but unintentionally deprived the creature of its greatest beauty, we set it free, often in such a damaged or exhausted condition that the poor thing could scarcely fly.

But our childish ideas and inclinations have vanished. Now we would rather watch the insect than catch it, for we find much pleasure and interest in its varied movements. And if for purposes of study we occasionally require to make one captive, we proceed in such a manner as to preserve its beauty unimpaired. The cap now gives place to a well-made and suitable net; and we are careful to provide ourselves with sufficient and proper accommodation for our captives.

It is probable that many of my readers are as yet unacquainted with the nature of an entomologist's requirements for field work, so we shall describe them, confining ourselves at first to those that are required for a butterfly hunt.

First and foremost comes the net. This essential portion of your equipment may be either purchased or constructed by yourself. Very little skill is required to enable you to do the former. Provided your pocket is well charged, you may start off at once to the dealer in naturalists' appliances, and treat yourself to a complete outfit. But even in this case a little advice may not be out of place. See that what you purchase is very _strongly_ made. You can get nicely finished nets constructed on the most convenient principles, made to fold and go in an ordinary coat pocket, but with _weak joints_. See that you have the most convenient form of net by all means, but do not go in for convenience and appearance at the expense of strength and durability. Nothing is more annoying than to find your net give way just when you are in the midst of a good day's sport.

The folding net is certainly very convenient, for you can conceal it in your pocket while you are walking through town or travelling in a railway carriage, and thus avoid that contemptuous gaze which certain of the public are prone to cast on a poor 'bug hunter.' And although such nets are generally purchased, yet they _may_ be constructed by anyone who has had experience in the working of metals. But other forms of nets, equally useful and even stronger, can be made by anybody; and I will give a few hints on two or three different ways of putting them together.

A very simple and strong frame for a net may be made as follows: Get a piece of stout iron or brass wire about forty inches in length, and bend it into a circle with the two ends, turned out about two inches each, at right angles to the circumference as shown in the accompanying sketch.

Now take a good tough stick, the length of an ordinary walking stick, and cut out two grooves opposite each other at the end, just large enough to take the straight ends of the wire. The end of the stick will now resemble fig. 40 in shape. Place the ends in their grooves, and bind them tightly to the stick by a good many turns of rather fine wire.

A frame well made after this fashion is as strong as anything you could desire, but it has the disadvantage of being always fixed to the handle, thus preventing the use of the latter as a walking stick when you are not directly engaged in your entomological work.

A much more convenient frame may be made by thrusting the ends of a piece of cane into the two narrow arms of a metal Y. You may purchase the Y at any of the naturalists' stores, or you can make one yourself if you know how to perform the operation of soldering. I have always made mine with odds and ends of brass tubing such as old gas pipes. One piece must be just the size to fix on the stick; and the other two must fit the cane tightly. The three pieces must be filed off at the proper angles, and the doubly bevelled end of the wider tube must then be flattened down to the width of the smaller ones before soldering. If you decide to buy one, give the preference to strong brass rather than the cheaper and more fragile ones made of tinned iron.

The advantage of such an arrangement over the last frame is evident at once. The cane, with net attached, can be pulled out of the Y when not in use, and bent small enough to go in the pocket or a satchel; and the Y can also be separated from the stick, thus allowing the latter to be used as a walking stick.

Some entomologists speak very favourably of what is known as the 'umbrella net'--a large and light net that will shut up like an umbrella, and may even be made to look very much like this useful protector, but the possession of such an imitation is somewhat tantalising in a pelting shower. The ring of this net consists of two steel springs attached to a couple of brass hinges, one of which is fixed near one end of the handle, while the other slides up and down in the gamp fashion.

One other form of net--'the clap net'--although still occasionally seen, has had its best days. Two sticks are provided to this one, so that the two sides of the net may be brought together on the insect; but as both hands are required to manage it, it is almost surprising that it ever had any advocates at all.

When your frame is completed, sew round it a strip of strong calico, to which the net itself may be afterwards sewn, for the lighter material of the net is too delicate to stand the constant friction against the metal or cane frame.

The material usually employed in making the 'bag' is called leno. It can be purchased at most of the drapers' shops, and three colours--white, yellow and green--are usually kept in stock. Measure the circumference of your net frame, and see that you get sufficient leno to make a good full net. Suppose, for instance, that the circle of your frame measures thirty-six inches round, then your leno should be at least forty inches in length. Fold this double, and then cut out two pieces of the shape shown in fig. 42, letting the depth of the net be nearly or quite equal to the width of the material. There is nothing to be done now but to stitch the bag together and sew it to the calico on the ring.

At first you will find the leno rather stiff and harsh, but a damping and good rubbing between the hands will soften it down; or, if you prefer it, you may soften the material by a slight washing before cutting out the net. The latter is perhaps the better plan, for the washing will remove the objectionable 'dressing' that renders the material rather hard and stiff.

Of the three colours mentioned above, green is the one most generally chosen, because it is more in harmony with the surroundings of a butterfly catcher; but many prefer the white leno to the green, as the insects are more easily seen in a net of this colour. Yellow is certainly not a desirable tint.

As a rule it will be necessary to kill an insect as soon as it is captured. This is always the case with butterflies unless you require to keep them alive either to watch their movements or to obtain eggs. For this purpose you will require a killing bottle or box containing some volatile substance.

The selection of this necessary piece of apparatus is a point deserving of much consideration, for so many different forms are in use by different entomologists, and so many advocates each declare that his own plan is far superior to that of any of the others, that the final decision is not to be worked out in a moment. The best thing for a beginner is to try as many as he can, and then, after some considerable experience of his own, he will be able to decide which apparatus suits himself best.

I recommend this because it is impossible to say of any one plan that it is the best, for that which gives perfect satisfaction to one individual will often fail to give anything but annoyance in the hands of another.

To enable my young readers to follow the advice I have just given, I will describe some of the commonly used killing arrangements and show how they should be used.

I will take first the 'cyanide bottle.' This is a wide-mouthed bottle, containing a very poisonous substance called _cyanide of potassium_. It is fitted with a good sound cork. The 'cyanide' is a solid substance, and must be fixed in some way or other at the bottom of the bottle so that it cannot shake about and damage the butterflies.

A cyanide bottle can be purchased ready for use at the cost of a shilling or thereabouts; but if you are old enough to be trusted with deadly poisons, you may buy the 'cyanide' of a chemist who knows you well and is satisfied as to your intentions, and then prepare your own. Every entomologist should know how to do this, for the poison loses its power after some time, and it is not always convenient to leave your bottle in the hands of a chemist or a 'naturalist' to have it recharged. This will cost you more than it would to do it yourself, but that is nothing compared with the annoyance that may result when, the night before an anticipated butterfly hunt, you are calmly told that 'your bottle will be ready in a few days.' You can charge it yourself in a few minutes if you can manage to keep a small supply of 'cyanide' in stock, and it is ready for use very shortly after.

Here is the _modus operandi_.--Purchase an ounce or two of the cyanide of potassium, and immediately put it into a stoppered or well-corked bottle. Label it at once, not only with the name, but also with the word POISON in very large and conspicuous letters. This dangerous chemical is often sold in sticks that look much like certain 'sugar sticks' I was acquainted with in my younger days; but whether this is or is not the case with your cyanide, see that the bottle is kept quite out of the reach of the inquisitive and sugar-loving juveniles of the house.

The quantity above mentioned is more than you will require for the first 'charge,' but you will soon experience the convenience of having a supply always at hand for recharging when your cyanide bottle fails to do its work expeditiously, or when an accident calls for the somewhat sudden appearance of a new one.

Now procure a bottle for your work. Its mouth must be wide enough to take the largest insect you hope to catch, and the widest part of the bottle need not be much larger. Get a perfectly sound cork to fit it tightly; and, to insure the more perfect exclusion of air, paint over the top of the cork with melted paraffin wax.

Dissolve a few drams of the cyanide in a little water, using a glass rod to stir up the mixture till the solid has all disappeared; and be careful that neither the solid nor the solution touches the skin if it should be in the slightest degree scratched or broken. Now sprinkle plaster of Paris into the solution, a little at a time, and stir all the while. As soon as the mixture begins to set, pour it into your bottle as cleanly as you can--that is, without touching the sides--and press it down with the flat end of a stick if it is not level. Now cork it, and put the bottle away in a cool place till required for use.

This is, I think, the best way of charging the bottle; but there are two other common methods that may, perhaps, be regarded as a little more simple. One is this: put a few small lumps of the 'cyanide' into your bottle, and then cover them with a stiff mixture of plaster of Paris and water, and press down as before. The other plan is to cover the 'cyanide' with a few thicknesses of blotting paper, cut just a little larger than the inside of the bottle. The first of these two methods is fairly satisfactory, but I have always found that the charge, when made in this way, has a tendency to become wet and pasty, in which condition it will spoil the wings of the insects. The other is very objectionable, especially for field work, for the blotting paper fails to keep its place while you are on the chase. If the plaster is used, the mixing must be done quickly and without hesitation, or the mixture will become solid before you can press it into your bottle.

We will not enter now into the _pros_ and _cons_ of the cyanide bottle, but will consider the advantages and disadvantages of the various methods of killing the insects after we have noticed a few more.

The 'laurel box' has had many devoted advocates, although it does not seem to be much in use now. It is a very good arrangement, however, but is a little more troublesome than the cyanide bottle, as it requires frequent replenishing.

A very good laurel box may be prepared as follows. Get a small tin box of cylindrical form, measuring about five inches by two, and cut a circle of perforated zinc or wood just the size to fit it snugly as a false bottom without any danger of falling out of its place. Now gather some of the young leaves of the green laurel bush, and beat them almost to a pulp with a mallet or hammer. Place this in your tin box, and press down the perforated false bottom on it. The bruised laurel leaves give off a very powerful odour, which stupefies butterflies immediately.

Of course the reader may be able to think of various other ways in which the laurel box may be made. Any arrangement will do providing the vapour can come to the insects without allowing the leaves to touch their wings; and any ingenious youth could manufacture a more satisfactory article than the one I have mentioned. My desire is, as far as possible, to give instructions that may easily be carried out by anyone, even if he has not the slightest mechanical skill, leaving the clever youth, sometimes, the opportunity of displaying his own inventive power. But in this case I will give a few suggestions concerning other ways in which a laurel killer may be constructed. A firm and _fixed_ false bottom is a decided advantage. This is easily managed by fixing a circular piece of perforated zinc or 'tin' by means of a little solder; or even a wood partition may be used, fixed with a few brads, driven into it from the outside. With the fixed partition, however, you must have a lid at each end of the box. This is easily managed if you get two tins of the same size, knock out the bottom of one, and fit the lid of the other in its place.

I have heard of laurel boxes without any partition save a piece of rag in which the bruised leaves are wrapped. The whole is _pressed_ into the box so firmly that it is not likely to be displaced while you are on the chase. I do not recommend this, for in addition to the chance of its slipping there is a danger of the sap of the leaves exuding through the rag and spoiling the insects' wings. But if the reader should prefer to try this on account of its simplicity, it will probably occur to him that a bottle may be used instead of a tin box.

A well-made laurel box, with a fixed metal partition, is a piece of apparatus strongly to be recommended to all young entomologists who desire to test the relative value of the various poisons that are used by the different experts; for with it any one of these substances can be used. In the poison compartment you can place pieces of 'cyanide' wrapped in blotting paper, or any kind of porous substance moistened with liquid ammonia, chloroform, benzole, or any other volatile liquid insecticide. All the above-named substances are declared to be 'the best,' so they must all be worth the trial.

'Cyanide' is valued on account of its lasting powers. A cyanide bottle well charged will retain its efficiency throughout a whole season. I always recharge two in the spring, one for active service in the field and the other as a reserve force; and these kept in a cool place do good execution throughout the year. If they should exhibit a slight failing, a few minutes' warming before a fire will improve them; but for field work it is better to recharge. At the same time see that the corks are in good condition.

Next to the 'cyanide,' the bruised laurel takes the first rank for permanency; but you must not expect this to last many days. For a few days' continuous work one charge will suffice, but if the laurel box has not been in use for some time you must have a fresh supply.

The liquid poisons, such as ammonia, chloroform, and benzole, are so volatile that they are very powerful for a short time, but so much vapour is lost each time the box is opened that it is absolutely necessary to carry a bottle of the one you use into the field with you. Also see that you have sufficient of the blotting paper or other absorbent to prevent the liquid from leaking through the perforations of the partition.

If you choose ammonia--a substance that is not regarded as a poison, and is therefore easily obtained from any chemist--always get the strongest, and see that it is labelled 'Liq. Ammonia, S.G. .880' as a guarantee. A small bottle such as you can conveniently carry in the waistcoat pocket will contain sufficient for a day's work. Use only a few drops at a time, but renew frequently. Although the ammonia corrodes cork, yet a good cork is far preferable for the pocket to a glass stopper, for its elasticity prevents it from losing its hold, and the liquid from saturating your pocket and its surroundings; but a glass stopper is certainly better for the stock solution kept at home.

Most of the above remarks apply equally well to benzole and to chloroform, but the latter is so powerful a poison that a very little is required for a day's work, and consequently a very small bottle is more convenient. The dealers in naturalist's appliances supply metal 'chloroform bottles' with screw stoppers and a small nozzle that will allow the liquid to run out only in drops. This is a very good arrangement, since it enables you to avoid the 'drop too much' which is not only unnecessary and therefore wasteful, but saves you from experiencing the disappointment of an empty bottle before your work is half done.

Some entomologists recommend the solid carbonate of ammonium instead of liquid ammonia, but this is not so powerful. It must be remembered that we have the butterflies to consider, as well as our own convenience, in the selection of the poisons we use. It is the opinion of many well-known entomologists that 'insects cannot feel pain,' and that we are therefore at liberty to deal with them in any way we please. Still it is as well to save all possible suffering, and be satisfied with no killing box that is not practically instantaneous in its effects.

Among other poisons used by entomologists I may mention sulphur fumes and tobacco smoke. The former may be obtained by burning a little sulphur or a sulphured lucifer match under the perforations of a killing box of the pattern described, and the latter--well, every smoker knows that. I should at once condemn the former method, at least for field work, as troublesome and inconvenient; and as to the other, I have tried the effect of a puff (and many puffs) of tobacco smoke on an imprisoned insect, but was so dissatisfied with the result that I am not likely to do so again.

We have now considered a good many insecticides more or less suitable to our purpose, but there still remains the unsolved problem as to which is the best. Each one has its advantages. For _convenience_ nothing beats the cyanide bottle. It is very speedy in its action, and the use of a bottle is a little preferable to a metal box, for you can always satisfy yourself as to its efficiency without opening it. Cyanide, chloroform, benzole, and some others render the insects more or less brittle and stiff, so that it is not so easy to 'set' them for the cabinet. Perhaps, if you happen to have a supply of growing laurel close at hand, you cannot do better than stick to the laurel box. The time taken in bruising up a few leaves is inconsiderable, and the moisture given off from them will keep your insects moist and supple, or will even 'relax' them if they have become rigid. But try various plans for yourself, and you will be able to settle a question which all the entomologists in the world cannot answer for you--which method answers best in _your_ hands.

The next item for our consideration is the 'collecting box.' This is merely a box in which the butterflies are pinned as soon as they are dead. Here, again, we shall note a few variations from which a selection can be made according to the means or the ingenuity of the reader. For a couple of shillings you can obtain a good zinc collecting box, lined with cork, of oval form (a most convenient shape for the pocket), and quite large enough for one day's captures; and half that modest sum will purchase a wooden box, also lined with cork, adapted to the same purpose.

As with many other things, so with collecting boxes, the cheapest is often the dearest in the end. You may feel inclined to save a shilling by buying a wooden box, but you are sure to discard it after a little practical experience for a metal one. We shall speak a little later on concerning the advisability of 'setting' the butterflies as soon as possible after capture; but this is not always practicable, especially after a good day's catch. Now, if the insects are pinned in a wooden box, they soon become dry and rigid, and consequently cannot be 'set' till they have been put through the more or less tedious process of 'relaxing.' If you use a wooden collecting box you will often find, on a hot and dry day, that all or nearly all your butterflies are rigid before you arrive home; but a metal box will keep them moist and supple, so that you can even put off the setting till the following day if you are unable to do it immediately after your return.

Another point worth considering is the best economy of space. If your collecting box is only about one inch deep inside, you have room for only one layer of pinned insects; but a box only a little deeper may be lined with cork both at top and bottom, and thus be made to accommodate double the number. The zinc boxes sold by the dealers are generally lined with cork in this manner, and are, of course, deep enough for the double layer of specimens; but the wooden boxes are sometimes lined on the bottom only. After these few remarks you will at once see the economy of expending the extra shilling on the former.

Although the prices of collecting boxes are low, yet there are many who would prefer making their own, and there is much to be said in favour of this. A great deal of pleasure is to be derived from the construction of your own apparatus, especially when that apparatus is afterwards to be used in the pursuit of a delightful hobby. During the whole of the time thus engaged, you are looking forward with the most pleasurable feelings to the glorious treat before you, and every joint you make seems to bring you nearer to the realisation of your joys. During the bleak winter months there is no better employment for an entomologist who has a little spare time than the preparation for the next outing. It is just one of those artful schemes by which he seeks to get as much pleasure out of life as it is capable of affording. How many there are who, for the lack of a pleasant and instructive hobby, find their leisure hours the most dismal of all, and who complain of the toil and wearisomeness of their lot! The mournful thought with them is, 'Is life worth living?' but who ever heard such an expression from the lips of an active entomologist?

But I must have done with moralising and proceed to business. The question is--How shall we set to work about the construction of a collecting box? If it is to be a wooden one, select or make a box of such a size as to suit your pocket or satchel, and cover the bottom, and lid too if the depth allows of it, with sheet cork or slices of good wine corks, about one-eighth of an inch thick, fixed on with glue.

The metal box is not quite so easy, but even here you may save yourself much work by keeping your eyes open. Very neat little collecting boxes can be made out of the flat metal boxes in which are sold certain favourite brands of tobacco. Some of these are just the right depth, and also of a very convenient size for the coat pocket. Beg one of these boxes from a smoking friend, and if the lid is not held by a hinge (a great advantage, by the way), you can easily solder on a brass one.

All that remains now is the fixing of the cork. Buy a sheet of cork at a naturalist's shop, this being a commodity always in stock, and cut out two pieces just the size to cover the bottom and the lid.

Gum and glue are not very satisfactory as fixing agents, for, as you will presently learn, there are times when it will be necessary to keep the box moist, and moisture softens both these substances. The cork must be fixed by means of little strips of metal. Here are two ways of doing this:

First.--Cut a few little strips of sheet tin, each about two inches long and one-eighth wide. Double and bend them as shown in fig. 46, and solder them to the surfaces which the cork is to cover (fig. 47). As the cork is pushed in its place, these little slips are allowed to force themselves through slits in it made by means of a penknife, and then the ends are bent over as shown in fig. 48. Two or three such fasteners will be quite sufficient to hold down each sheet of cork.

Second.--Put the sheets of cork in their places _first_, then make a few little slits through both metal and cork with the point of a penknife, and then bind the two together with a few ordinary paper fasteners. This arrangement is shown in section in fig. 49.

Just one point more concerning the metal collecting box. You will often call moisture to your aid in keeping the butterflies flexible and soft. This will have but little action on zinc, but will sooner or later cause the 'tin' (really tinned iron) box to rust. Here, then, is a point in favour of zinc, but still a home-made 'tin' collector will last a long time if kept dry when not in use.

As already hinted, there are times when it is desirable to take home certain butterflies alive, either for a study of their movements or for the purpose of securing eggs for breeding. To this end you must provide yourself either with a number of 'chip boxes' with a few small holes pricked in the cover, or with some metal boxes with perforations for the admission of air. If the latter, you will have no difficulty in securing a few 'tin' boxes of suitable size, but, as the surface of the metal is very smooth, you should always introduce a few leaves or something else that will provide a foothold for the inmates.

The last item of the outfit is the pins. Ordinary draper's pins are quite out of the question. They are far too thick and clumsy for the collector's work. If you are not already acquainted with the 'entomological pins,' you had better ask a dealer to give you a sample card. This will be very useful for reference until you become well acquainted with the various lengths, thicknesses, numbers and prices. The card will contain one of each kind, with price and number attached.

If you fix a butterfly with the ordinary pin, you may find the latter partly covered over with verdigris after a time. This bright green substance is formed by the action of decomposing animal matter on the copper of the pin, and gives a very unsightly appearance to the specimen. To avoid this the entomological pins are either silvered, blackened or gilded. The silvered pins tarnish after a time, but the two other kinds keep their colour well, and are therefore better. The gilded ones are rather expensive and unnecessary, and perhaps the black ones are to be preferred to the silvered, although they are rather more costly.

Most dealers will supply you with a box of mixed pins, each box containing about six different sizes. This is very convenient for those who work in a rather small way; but if you intend to make entomology a prolonged study you had better get an ounce or so of each of the more useful sizes.

Butterflies vary much in size, and Nos. 3 to 8 are the most useful sizes of pins to fix them; No. 3 being for the largest, and 8 for the smallest.

Supposing all the foregoing requisites to be quite ready, still you are really by no means prepared for all your work. The butterflies captured should be set as soon as possible after your return, and everything required for _this_ part of the work must be in perfect trim. Yet I think it will be more convenient just now to confine our attention to the subject of 'Catching Butterflies,' leaving all the indoor work to form the substance of another chapter. Our next point, then, shall be the consideration of seasons, times, and localities.

The earliest of the butterflies make their appearance on the wing in April, or, if the weather is mild, towards the end of March; and from this time you can find employment up to the end of September or the beginning of October--a period of about seven months. But it must not be supposed that all parts of this long season are equally prolific, and will yield equally valuable catches. Remember the short term of a butterfly's life, and bear in mind that each one has its own regular season in which to spend the winged state; you will then see that anyone who wishes to 'work' as many species as possible must arrange his outings in accordance with the insects' own times.

Some butterflies are double-brooded, and the two broods may not come forth at certain fixed times. Hence they seem to be on the wing almost without cessation for several months together, and therefore need not have a special day set apart for them. But others are more uniform in their date of appearance, and die off at about the same time. To catch such as these you must be careful to watch the weather, make allowance for any severities that may tend to cause a delay, or an unusually high temperature that may hasten their emergence, and then select a day in which you may expect to find them fresh and unworn. A week too early, and none are to be seen; a week too late, and nearly all you catch are worn and worthless.

A glance at our Calendar (Appendix II) will give you a few illustrations in point. Thus you will observe that May is a month for the 'Whites,' early 'Blues' and certain of the Fritillaries; July for most of the Hairstreaks and Browns, and so on. Before you have been long collecting you will have captured the very common species, and then you will find that your butterfly hunts are very unproductive unless you make it a point to try for certain species at the proper times.

Time, however, is not the only thing to take into account when preparing for a day with the butterflies. It is equally important that we should carefully select our locality in accordance with the known haunts of the various species. As long as you are simply working up the common kinds, you may wander almost at random in waste places, flowery meadows, corn fields, railway banks, &c.; but when you have secured a few specimens of each of these, you must search out the favoured resorts of the more local and the rarer species. For instance, wooded spots must be visited if you are to take certain of the Fritillaries, oak woods for the Purple Emperor and the Purple Hairstreak, fenny districts for the beautiful Swallow-tail, and so forth. In some cases the butterflies are closely restricted to certain isolated localities, to which you must travel if determined to obtain them.

There yet remains another important matter to consider, and that is the kind of day you shall select for your outing. Butterflies are not only strictly day-fliers, but most of them venture out only on bright days. Always choose as hot a day as possible, with a very bright sun. If you are to be out for a full day's collecting, manage to be on the hunting ground at about ten o'clock in the morning. As a rule there are not many out before this time, and some do not appear to stir till an hour later: still there are a few 'early birds' among them, one of which--the Wall Butterfly--I have seen on the wing before eight.

If your season, your day, and your locality are all well chosen, you may reckon on a good six hours' work. At about four the butterflies begin to lag, and then drop into their hiding places, one by one, till only a few of the late stragglers remain on the wing.

So far I have furnished some general instructions that may be regarded as preparatory to the start; but I will now give a few hints as to the mode of procedure when the day for field work has come.

First, see that you have secured _all_ your apparatus, and that it is in perfect condition. What is more annoying than to find, after you have travelled some miles to get to your hunting ground, that you have left your screw ferrule at home, or that the soldering of your metal Y is just giving way? If you are troubled with a short memory, it will be advisable to make out a list of every requisite for your field work, and keep this for reference on all field days.

Here is a list of your equipment for a day with the butterflies. Net, ferrule or Y, stick, collecting box (the cork of which should be damped if the box is a metal one), a few 'chip boxes' for live insects, killing apparatus, a good supply of pins of several sizes, a piece of string, needle and cotton, and your penknife.

You observe in this list one or two items not previously mentioned, since they hardly come under the category of apparatus, but a moment's thought will convince you of their usefulness, especially in the case of a breakdown. If your net catches in a thorn--a very common occurrence--and a big rent is made, the needle and cotton will save you a deal of agony, and perhaps loss of temper. If your stick breaks under your exertions, the knife or the string may prove a most valuable companion. Your pins may be stuck in the cork of your collecting box, certainly the most convenient spot for immediate use; but you may also have a reserve store in a small pocket cushion, or arranged neatly on a strip of flannel which can be rolled up in the waistcoat pocket.

At last you are on the hunting ground, fully equipped but inexperienced, and at first find yourself just a little awkward in the use of your new gear. Your experience with the cap has been a very wide one, and you are possibly an expert at knocking down 'Whites' in the streets and in your neighbour's kitchen gardens. Now you have to wield the net, and coax your captives into your killing bottle; hence a slight feeling of incompetence at first.

You soon get over this, however, and within five minutes you may be seen furiously slashing away at all the poor butterflies that come within range, common 'Whites' and dingy 'Browns' receiving as much attention at your hands as any rare gem that may happen to cross your path.

How different are the movements of an experienced collector! He walks stealthily along the route he has chosen, apparently taking but little notice of the majority of butterflies that approach and pass him. He has already secured his 'series' of nearly all the species, and is carefully on the watch for the gems that are required to complete his cabinet. His actions are slow and deliberate rather than rash; and he trusts more to his eyes than his legs.

The beginner may take to his field work quite to his own satisfaction, and may travel homeward with a feeling of great pride over his first day's catch; but yet there are a few points in which a little advice may not be quite out of place, particularly so with regard to the management of the net, and the killing and pinning of the insects.

Most of the butterflies may be caught on the wing, and it is far better to net them in the air than to sweep them off the herbage and flowers. If these are rather low, you should strike the net smartly _upwards_ from below them, but of course this movement is impossible with insects that happen to be almost above your reach. If a butterfly is busily engaged in searching out its sweet food, flying from flower to flower, don't think of giving chase, but follow it up stealthily, and you will sooner or later get an opportunity of striking at it while in the air. Sometimes, however, you will see a powerful flier making a straight dash across your field, taking no notice whatever of the fragrant blossoms, but evidently engaged on some important errand. If such happens to be a species you require, then you must run for it, but you will probably be satisfied with only a few chases of this kind, particularly if the sun is very hot, and the ground diversified with clumps of furze, heather, 'molehills,' and ditches.

There are times when your only plan of netting a butterfly is to sweep it from a flower or leaf on which it has settled. If the vegetation is very low, you have simply to bring the net down upon it, and then, holding up the apex of the net with the other hand so as to give it room to fly, you can inclose it by grasping the lower part of the net as soon as the butterfly has fluttered upward. If the herbage is tall it is advisable to strike either upward or sideways at the insect, starting it from the leaf or flower on which it rests; for if you bring _down_ the net you will have to inclose the whole or part of the plant on which the butterfly has settled--a procedure that often ends in a torn net, or in the insect becoming damaged through being rubbed against the plant.

Whenever you capture a butterfly by a sweep of the net through the air, you immediately turn the ring into a horizontal position, so that the bag of the net closes itself as it falls over the edge. This gives you an opportunity of examining the insect before you introduce your killing bottle. This is a very necessary precaution, for you are generally unable to judge of the condition of a butterfly while on the wing, and in some cases you cannot even be certain of the species. If, then, you were to call the killing bottle into requisition for every capture you make, you would certainly find yourself taking the life of many an insect that is of no use whatever to you. Always examine your specimens at the moment they have been secured, at least as far as it is possible to do so, by looking through the gauze; and let your examination be as brief as possible, or some of the butterflies that were at first in splendid condition will render themselves useless to you during their struggles to get away.

When satisfied that an insect is likely to be of value to you, keep it in the apex of the net by grasping the bag beneath it with the left hand, and then introduce the opened killing bottle with the other hand. As a rule you will experience not the slightest difficulty in coaxing it into its trap, and then you quickly cover the mouth of the killing bottle with the gauze, then apply your left hand, using it as a temporary stopper for a few seconds, and now, the insect having been quieted, replace the cork.

A good killing bottle is almost instantaneous in its action, not only stupefying, but immediately killing the insects; and as soon as you are sure that each specimen is quite dead, you may pin it in your collecting box.

You must be cautious, however, on the one hand, that you do not take it out too soon. If you do you may find that it recovers from the mere stupefying effect of the poison, even after it has been pinned, and when you open your collecting box for the next butterfly, you are horrified at the sight of the poor victim struggling to free itself.

On the other hand, don't keep the insects in the killing bottle too long. If you do you will soon have a number, one lying on another, and all tumbled about together while you are on the chase. Of course, under such circumstances you are sure to damage them more or less.

Many collectors, although they may always use a killing bottle for moths, never employ one for butterflies, but kill them by pinching the thorax. It is well to know how to do this, for it sometimes turns out to be a really quicker process than that we have just been considering; and, more than this, you can resort to it should you break or lose your bottle while in the field. It is done in this manner: Bring the two opposite sides of the net together, closing them on the insect so that it cannot flutter. If now the wings are brought together over the back, all is right, but if not, give it just a little room to flutter till you have the opportunity of closing the gauze upon it with the wings in the desired position. Now pinch the thorax smartly between the finger and the thumb, applying the pressure outside the net, but be careful not to squeeze the abdomen. In a moment you will find the insect quite dead, and not in the least damaged unless you performed the operation clumsily.

Now as to pinning. Hold the dead butterfly between the finger and thumb of the left hand, and pass a pin of convenient size through the centre of the thorax above, and push it through so that the point appears centrally on the under surface. It is now ready for your collecting box.

So you work on till the sun begins to get low, and the butterflies become fewer and fewer, till only a few stragglers of common species are to be seen. Still there are a few hours of daylight and perhaps even of bright sunshine before you, and if you are not weary with the work done, you may very profitably spend these hours in the collection and study of the habits of moths.

_Catching Moths by Day_

The reason for choosing the sunny hours for butterfly collecting is obvious, all these lovers of brightness being then actively on the wing; and although many may be driven out of their hiding places by beating the herbage with the handle of your net, or even be searched out as they rest on stalks and leaves during dull days or at morning and evening twilight, yet such methods are comparatively tedious and unproductive.

Some moths also are lovers of sunshine, and while engaged in butterfly hunting you will often meet with a moth flying briskly from flower to flower and taking its fill of both sweetness and brightness. Again, as you wade among flowery herbs in quest of butterflies you will certainly disturb a number of moths, causing them to take a short flight in search of a safer spot. Thus you will almost invariably find a few moths among the contents of your collecting box even though you made no special effort to seek them out. But we shall now see how we may set to work to obtain a successful catch of moths at times when butterflies are not so much in demand, or during the less brilliant hours of the day, when butterflies are at rest.

The apparatus required for this work need not differ in any important respect from that recommended for butterflies. The same net is used, any reliable killing bottle will do, and the pins and collecting box used for butterflies are equally serviceable. But your mode of procedure is very different.

As you walk towards your proposed hunting ground you will do well to examine the trunks of trees, old walls, and wooden fences. In this way you will meet with moths fast asleep, which are consequently easily taken. All you have to do is to hold the open killing bottle obliquely just below the insect, and then push it gently downward with a small twig or stalk. As a rule the moth will drop direct into the bottle and make no attempt to fly away; but some are very light sleepers, ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance; and when dealing with these you must be careful to bring the mouth of the killing bottle so closely round them that there is no room for flight except into the bottle itself. It is well, however, not to take long at this kind of searching, but to reserve as much as possible of your time for what you consider to be a very favourable locality.

Speaking generally, a good locality for butterflies is a favourable one also for moths, and you will do well to give special attention to well-grown hedges, especially those that surround clover fields; also overgrown banks, the borders of woods, open spaces in woods, the trunks of isolated trees, gravel pits, and old chalk quarries.

Walk beside or among the undergrowth of woods, or among the tall herbage of waste places, tapping the branches and twigs with the handle of your net as you go. Then, if your locality is well selected, you will rouse moths to flight at almost every stroke. Some of these will shoot upward among the lofty branches and disappear quite beyond your reach; others will fly rather low and somewhat heavily, giving you favourable opportunities to try your skill with the net; others, again, will fly only a yard or so, and alight on a neighbouring leaf, often remaining so quiet that the killing bottle is easily made to inclose them.

There are moths that show a decided preference for large trees. These may be seen hovering about high branches during the evening twilight, and sometimes even in sunshine. In many such cases the chance of a capture seems hopeless, but occasionally one will descend so low that a watchful collector is able to secure it by a sweep of the net.

If at any time you are in a locality by day where you suspect the presence of certain species of moths at rest among the upper branches of trees, such branches should be beaten if possible to dislodge the insects they may shelter. A long stick will often serve this purpose well, and, failing this, a few stones thrown among the branches may prove effectual. In the case of small and rather slender trees, a kick against the trunk will set the whole in vibration sufficient to surprise all the lodgers; and the same effect may be produced with larger trees by giving each a good sound blow with a mallet or some other suitable implement.

This or any other plan of 'beating' for moths is much more conveniently worked by two collectors together than by one alone; for one engaged in beating the herbage cannot be at the same time fully on the alert with the net. If two persons are together, one may take the lead, armed with the beating stick only, while the other, only very slightly in the rear, is always ready to strike.

We have said that butterflies should always be killed in the field, but this plan is not so universally adopted with moths. Many collectors carry a large supply of pill boxes when going out for the latter and then take as many as they possibly can by boxing them direct in these. This method of 'pill-boxing' is very simple in the case of the lazy and soundly sleeping moths. It is only necessary to hold the open box below the insect, and then cause it to fall by pressing the lid down gently on it from above.

Many of the moths so caught will remain quiet in the boxes and can be taken home alive without much fear of damage. All may then be killed at the same time by packing all the pill boxes in some vessel of sufficient accommodation, and shutting them in with a little chloroform, ammonia, benzole, or other suitable poison. The vapour will soon find its way through the pores of the pill boxes, but, in order to make its action speedy, each one should have a few perforations in the lid.

Whatever advantages this method may give to the collector who works at night, when the process of pinning would be more or less tedious, there is no necessity for its adoption during the day. The large number of pill boxes required is certainly far more bulky than the single collecting box that would accommodate all the day's captures; and although most of the insects boxed alive may be none the worse for the shaking they get, and may not damage themselves by fluttering in their small prisons, yet there is often a little loss on this score.

If you do adopt the pill-boxing method, be very careful that you do not mix the occupied boxes with the empties; and unless you fix on some definite plan for the prevention of such an occurrence, you will often find yourself releasing a prisoner from a box you have just opened to receive a new-comer.

Suppose that you start with all your empties in your right pocket. Then each one, as soon as it is tenanted, might be placed in the _left_, with the name of the insect, or any particular concerning it you would wish to note, pencilled on the lid.

When examining the trunks of trees you will be continually meeting with specimens of very small Moths--_Pyralides_, _Crambi_, _Tortrices_, and _Tineae_--and at first may find some difficulty in boxing or bottling such small and delicate creatures. A grass stalk will enable you to tip some of them into your killing bottle, but some are so snugly packed in crevices of the bark that it is almost impossible to get them out without damage, even with a thin and slender stalk. But a sudden puff of wind from your mouth will often be sufficient to dislodge them and blow them into your net, and from this they are easily transferred to a box or bottle.

These few hints will prove sufficient to start you on moth-hunting expeditions during the daytime, and will enable you to make good use of the dull days and cloudy hours when the butterflies are quiet; but we must now turn our attention to the night work of the entomologist, and see how we may attract and catch moths during their hours of work and play.

_Searching for Moths at Night._

It is a well-known fact that the night-flying moths are attracted by lights, a characteristic of these insects that it is difficult to explain. Their love of darkness is in many instances so decided that they absolutely refuse to take flight while the fading light of day still lingers on the horizon, and even display a great aversion to the rays of the moon; and yet these very same species will often rush madly into the fierce glare of a naked artificial light, or fly with an energy almost amounting to fury against the glass of a street lamp or lighted window.

Puzzling as this peculiar tendency is, we can profitably turn it to our own account by making it a means of luring a number of moths into our presence.

The simplest way of putting this mode of capture into effect is to post yourself at your open window, with net and cyanide bottle at hand, while the brightest light you can command casts its rays as far and as wide as possible into darkness outside. If you use an oil lamp for the purpose, let it stand just inside the window frame, or, if a jointed gas bracket happens to be situated beside the window, bend it round so that the rays may pass over a wide area outside.

Two such lights are sometimes a very decided advantage--one quite outside the window to attract the moths from all possible points, and then another near the middle of the room to invite them inside. Whether you use either one or two lights, always see that it or they are so surrounded by a screen that the moths cannot by any possibility rush into the flame. There is nothing better for this purpose than a covering of light gauze, for this is not only a barrier for the prevention of the suicidal tendencies of the insects, but it also gives a good foothold to those who would like to rest and enjoy the luminous feast.

You will soon begin to learn that moths, like ourselves, exhibit great differences in their ways of enjoying their festal moments. Some will satisfy themselves by flying _near_ the light in almost a straight course, hardly slackening their speed as they pass; or will, perhaps, make a hurried curve round the light and then pass on at once about other business. To catch these you must be always on the alert, with net in hand, ready to make a dash at the right moment. But many will make straight for the flame, and then, finding a barrier in the form of gauze or glass, will either flutter round and round as if dissatisfied with your attempt to save them from an untimely end, or else settle quietly on the screen to enjoy the brightness for a long period. The flutterers are usually easily covered by a glass or the open cyanide bottle, and as for those that settle down quietly, you can take them at your leisure.

It will not do for a collector to depend solely on this method of obtaining moths, but at times when either his duties or the bad weather keeps him at home it affords him a means of capturing a few specimens that otherwise would have been missed. He may be even so busily engaged in other matters that he cannot afford the time to stand and watch with net in hand, but the insects that fly into his room and dance round the gas jet or inquisitively examine the white surface of the ceiling are easily netted or boxed without much loss of time.

The chances of success at this kind of work will vary considerably with the aspect, the season, and the weather. If your window opens on a large flower or fruit garden, on a patch of wooded country with plenty of underwood, a piece of waste ground overgrown with rank vegetation, or a stretch of heath or moor, then you may expect a very large number of visitors; but if you are situated on a level and barren country, or in the dense atmosphere of a thickly populated district, you must not reckon on many intruders.

As regards the season, this is more extended than that of the butterflies. A few species of moths may give you a call during the bleak nights of October and November, and also during the somewhat less dismal nights of February and March; but from April to September you may rely on a goodly number of captures. Of course you will not expect many of the 'rarities' and 'gems' to find you out; these are to be searched for in the open field in the manner to be presently described; but your lights will attract a large number of the commoner species of _Geometrae_ and _Noctuae_, the former _chiefly_ during the early summer, and the latter more or less throughout the season.

A little experience will show you that the atmospheric conditions form a very important consideration. The dark and warm nights are the most productive. Very little luck is to be anticipated when the full moon is throwing down her silvery rays from a clear sky; nor will you see many while a cold east or north-east wind is blowing. Under these conditions many moths prefer to keep in the sheltered nooks where they slept away the sunny hours of the day. They love a warm and moist air such as calls forth the odours of the fragrant blossoms that provide their sweets, and show no dislike to a fine drizzling rain that you yourself would prefer to avoid. A pelting shower will generally keep them under cover, but they delight in the fresh and moist air that immediately succeeds the passing storm.

If you reside on the outskirts of a town an occasional tour of inspection of street lamps may add a few specimens to your collection, and some entomologists attach so much importance to the value of these luminaries that they provide themselves with a special net for the removal of moths from the glass and rails (fig. 50). The straight side marked _a_ is applied to the panes of glass when flutterers or settlers are to be taken, and the bend on the opposite side is to secure those that rest on the rail. Such a frame is easily made by bending a piece of stout wire to the required shape, and then soldering it to a ferrule to receive a long stick. The net itself should not be deep.

Many different forms of traps are now made for catching moths, and these are deservedly coming rapidly into favour. They are generally constructed on a 'catch-'em-alive-oh' principle, and have the advantage that, after having been set, they may be left alone all night without any watching, and give an ambitious collector the opportunity of taking insects in his garden and searching in the open field both at the same time.

One of these traps may be constructed as follows at the cost of only a few pence over the price of a small paraffin lamp. Put together a square box, the sides about two feet and the front open, or procure a suitable one from your grocer. Place a paraffin lamp with a bright tin reflector at the back of this, and make a hole in the top just over the chimney to allow the heated air to pass out freely. Three sheets of glass are now to be placed as shown in the sketch (fig. 51), one upright piece completely shutting off the lamp, and two others placed obliquely with a space between them just large enough to allow admission. These must be exactly the width of the box, and should not be permanently fixed, but simply resting on small wooden supports nailed on to the sides. When required for use, it is only necessary to light up the lamp, strew some dead leaves on the bottom of the box, and put the sheets in their places. It will be seen at once that the angles at which they are placed will direct all light-seekers into the lower compartment, whence they are not at all likely to find their way out again; and after vain endeavours to reach the light they finally settle down on the sides of the box or seek shelter among the dead leaves.

Occasionally it happens that an entomologist is lucky enough to claim the friendship of a person who, from the nature of his calling, is peculiarly well qualified to render him great assistance. Thus a friendly lamplighter, expert and patient in the use of the cyanide bottle or pill box, is capable of giving valuable aid at times; and the keeper of a lighthouse has it in his power to capture many a gem that is seldom seen on the wing; but, although much may be done by means of these and other stationary lights, this kind of work does not compare favourably with the night rambles of a naturalist in the very haunts of the objects of his search.

For such out-door work in search of moths a good lantern is essential. An ordinary 'bull's-eye' is almost useless, for, although it concentrates a good light on certain objects, the narrow range of its rays constitutes a strong objection to its use for entomological work. For this purpose it is necessary that the rays of light not only pass in front of you, but also shoot off right and left to warn you of the approach of a moth before it is too late to wield the net. This wide range may be obtained by means of three flat glass sides, or, better still, by a bent plate glass front.

In addition to this you must go out provided with your net, killing bottle, and a number of pill boxes. Choose your night according to the hints already given, and if you are on the look-out for any particular species, be careful that the date of your outing is well timed, making any necessary allowances for the forwardness or backwardness of the season, for a moth that is generally due on a certain _average_ time of the year may appear some weeks sooner if the preceding weeks have been unusually warm, or its emergence may be delayed considerably by the prevalence of cold east winds or a late frost.

Make up your mind as to the field of your operations before you start, and if possible choose a route that will carry you through a variety of situations, so that you may pass the favourite haunts of a number of different species. Clearings in woods with an abundant undergrowth, waste places with plenty of tall and rank vegetation, overgrown railway banks, clover fields, the flowery borders of corn fields, plantations in parks, heaths and moors, sheltered and overgrown hollows such as chalk pits and old disused quarries, reed and marsh land, all these are good localities, each one inhabited by its own peculiar species, and if your route runs through a fair variety of such places you may, other things being equally favourable, depend on a good catch.

See that your time also is well chosen. Of course you cannot say exactly what the night will be till it actually comes, and, as you have to start off before it is dark, you must consider the probabilities of the future from the present condition of the air. Let it be a night when a bright moon is not due, and if it follow a warm and moist day with a south or south-west wind, or if drizzly, so much the better; but let your feet be shod with boots that will permit you to wade through moist herbage without danger, and take a waterproof if necessary.

It is always advisable to be on your hunting ground before twilight sets in, as a number of moths venture out before the sun has disappeared; and then you can work on till midnight if you feel inclined, or even extend your labours till the early hours of the morning.

Before dusk you will meet with many of the little _Tortrices_ (page 298) in sheltered spots, and a little later the _Geometrae_ and Hawks will be on the wing. Thus, before dark, you may make good use of your net, dealing with your captures just in the same way as recommended in the case of butterflies.

After a time, however, the lantern will have to be brought to your assistance in making known the whereabouts of the later species, consisting chiefly of the _Noctuae_, many of which do not make their appearance till it is quite dark. If now you carry your lantern in your left hand, your work will be rendered somewhat difficult and tedious, for, although one hand is sufficient to manage the net properly, you are compelled to rest your light on the ground every time you make a capture, as it is impossible to box your specimens unless both hands are quite free. This difficulty is easily overcome by suspending the lantern by means of a string or strap placed round your neck, allowing it to hang on your chest; and a further advantage is gained by having a second strap round your chest to prevent it from swaying about with every movement of your body. This arrangement gives you both hands perfectly free during the whole time, and also prevents the necessity of continually bringing yourself into a stooping or kneeling posture while you are examining or boxing the specimens you have netted.

There are now two courses open to you. Either you can kill and pin the moths as you catch them, fixing each one securely in the collecting box, or you may simply shut each one in a separate pill box and leave the remainder of the work to be done at home. If the ordinary collecting box only is used, a little of your time is necessarily occupied in pinning and transferring, and if many insects are about such an occupation may appear to you to be a waste of valuable time. But this is not all. Often and often will you find that while thus engaged a splendid moth will come and flutter round your light; and, before you have time to drop your collecting box and pick up the net, the fine creature you would have prized has darted off again. This certainly seems to speak in favour of the pill-boxing method, but it must be remembered that a few of the moths will continue to flutter after they have been boxed, so that when you arrive home they are more or less damaged, a large number of the scales that once adorned the wings now lying on the sides and bottom of the boxes. Perhaps the best plan is to take both the collecting box and also a quantity of pill boxes, and a little experience will soon show you which is the better accommodation for certain kinds.

Particular attention must be paid to flowers, some of which are very attractive to the _Noctuae_ especially. Sallow blossom in spring and ivy bloom in autumn should be carefully and frequently watched, and at other times the blossoms of heather, ragwort, bramble, clover, and various other flowers must be searched.

As you cast the rays of the lantern on the feasting moths some will prove themselves very wary, and dart away at your approach; but others will take but little notice of your advance, and will continue to suck the sweet nectar, their eyes glaring like living sparks.

As a rule the _Noctuae_ thus engaged are easily pill-boxed or caught direct in the cyanide bottle; but a few of the more restless species are to be made sure of only by a sweep of the net. Some will feign death as soon as disturbed, and allow themselves to drop among the foliage, where further search is generally fruitless.

Another common difficulty arises from the inconvenient height of many of the attractive blossoms--often so great that it is impossible to reach them with the net, and very difficult to direct the rays of your lantern on them. This is particularly the case with sallow and ivy, the flowers of which are two rich sources of supply to the entomologist.

Those who intend giving special attention to these blossoms should be provided with some form of apparatus that will enable them to extend their operations as high as possible. Perhaps the most effective arrangement is the well-known combination here figured. It consists of a long and stout stick, at the top of which is a tubular joint (fig. 52) that might be termed a T-piece were it not that the smaller part does not stand out at right angles to the other. In this is fixed, in a straight line with the stick, a short rod on which hangs a lantern--an ordinary bull's-eye answers well here; and in the smaller tube is another short rod carrying a shallow basin-shaped net, and of such a length that the net is just in advance of the lantern.

At first sight this arrangement will strike you as being very unsatisfactory, there being no kind of trap to prevent the escape of the insects. But it must be remembered that moths are more or less addicted to habits of intemperance--that they will hold on to the supply of the sweet fluid they enjoy till they are ready to drop with intoxication. This being the case, some will fall into your net as soon as they are startled by the sudden and near approach of the glare of your lamp, and others are easily _made_ to fall therein by gently tapping the flower-bearing stems from below with the edge of the ring.

Having become acquainted with this very sad propensity, which thus brings ruin to so many unfortunate moths, can we not yet further turn their evil doings to our own profit in our endeavours to become acquainted with their structure and history? Most certainly we can. All we have to do is to distribute in their haunts a bountiful supply of some artificial intoxicant such as they love, and then lie in wait for the victims that fall a prey to our snare. This process is known to entomologists as 'sugaring,' and is a splendid means of securing an abundance of species, often including some rare ones that are scarcely to be obtained by any other plan. Let us now inquire into the _modus operandi_ of this interesting operation.

The first thing to do is to prepare the luring sweetmeat. Supply yourself with a quantity of strong, dark treacle, and also some dark brown sugar; always remembering, in the selection of these viands, that odour rather than purity is to be the guide. The best kinds of sugar are those very dark and moist brands imported in a raw state from the West Indies, nothing being better than that known as 'Jamaica Foots.'

Mix about equal quantities of these with a little stale beer, and boil and stir till all the sugar is dissolved. The consistency of the mixture should be such that it will work well with a brush when used as a paint--not too thick, nor so thin that it is easily absorbed by the substance on which it is 'painted,' nor must it be in such a fluid condition that it easily runs.

When satisfied on these points, transfer the mixture to a tin canister, see it properly covered, and set it aside as your 'stock' from which you can draw supplies as required. Now secure an ordinary painter's brush of convenient size, and a number of strips of linen or other rag, each one of which is fastened to a hook formed of bent wire. These items, together with the usual lantern, collecting box, pill boxes, and killing bottle, complete your outfit for the sugaring expedition.

When the selected time for operations has arrived, take sufficient 'sugar' for your night's work, mix it well with sufficient strong rum to give it a very decided odour, and start off at dusk with this and the other requisites just mentioned.

The night chosen should be warm and calm, with a rather damp atmosphere, and no moon preferred. Let your locality be a well-wooded one; abounding, if possible, with giant oaks and other trees, and containing open spaces with plenty of underwood and rank herbage. Such localities are to be met with at their best in forest lands, and if you would do wonders at sugaring you cannot do better than arrange for spending your holidays in such a spot as the New Forest, taking with you sufficient 'sugar' for several nights' work.

Having reached a likely spot of no very great extent, you prepare for real work. Light up the lamp, and get out your sugaring tin and brush ready for action. Take your course along some definite track that you are sure to remember, painting vertical strips of sugar, about a foot long, on the trunks of trees or on palings, and hanging strips of rag that have just been steeped in the sugar on the branches of small trees and shrubs where you do not find good surfaces for the brush.

After satisfying yourself concerning the amount of sugar distributed, retrace your steps, examining every patch of sugar as you go. It will not be long before signs of life appear. Earwigs, spiders, centipedes and slugs will soon search out the luscious feast, but unless the time and the locality are ill chosen, the lantern will soon reveal a goodly number of moths, with eyes glaring like little balls of fire, greedily devouring the bounteous repast. These will consist chiefly of _Noctuae_, but _Sphinges_, _Geometrae_ and numerous small species also join the company.

Some will exhibit a restless disposition, either darting off before you make a close approach, or keeping their wings in rapid vibration as if to be fully prepared for a hasty retreat when occasion demands. These must receive your attention first; and, having secured them, proceed to box as many as you require of the more lazy and gluttonous species.

As a rule, moths thus engaged are easily pill-boxed, but the livelier ones will not submit to such treatment without attempting to escape. The best way to secure these is either to cover them with the opened cyanide bottle (or its substitute), and replace the cork as soon as a favourable opportunity occurs; or to perform the same feat with a glass-bottomed pill box.

The advantage of the latter over the ordinary boxes will be seen at once. After the insect is covered, its movements can be watched, and so a favourable opportunity can be seized for snapping on the lid.

As already stated, some moths feign death when in danger, allowing themselves to fall in places where they are often quite safe from capture. Others allow themselves to fall simply because they have so gorged themselves with the intoxicating sweet that they can no longer maintain their hold. Both these classes of sugar seekers may easily be secured by means of a net commonly known as the 'sugaring net.'

This implement is so simple in its construction that anyone can easily make his own. The frame may consist of two straight wires or canes fixed in a metal Y, and the other ends joined by a piece of strong string or catgut as shown in fig. 54. The net itself need not be deep. As soon as you reach a tree where moths are feeding on the sugar, press the string of the net against the bark just below them. The string at once assumes the form of the trunk so well that you may be sure of every insect that falls while you are boxing.

For this work both hands must be free, and this is easily managed in spite of the number of appliances called into service. The lantern is slung round your neck and secured by a strap round the chest. The 'sugaring net' has a very short stick, and just while you are engaged in boxing specimens, it may be gently held against the trunk by a slight pressure of the body. But such precautions as these are necessary only when the night worker is out alone. There are many circumstances, however, that render the work of two or more in company much more enjoyable than that of a single-handed entomologist. The labours are considerably expedited where a division enables each one of the night ramblers to take a particular portion of the work; and if there is such a person as a nervous entomologist, that individual should on no account go a sugaring in lonely spots on dark nights. Every rustling leaf gives such a one a start; all footsteps are those of approaching disturbers of the peace; and when at last the invisible landowner or his keeper, attracted by the mysterious movements of the lamp, greets him with his gruff 'What's your business here?' then for the moment he forgets his enchanting hobby and wishes he were safely at home.

It is certainly advisable to take a friend, whether an entomologist or not, on such expeditions; and if you intend working on private grounds, always make previous arrangements with the property owner, that you may fear no foes and dread no surprises; for a sugarer is far more sure of success in his work if he keeps a cool head and has nothing to think about for the time being but his moths and his boxes.

A few hours at this interesting employment pass away very rapidly, and when midnight arrives there is often no great desire to leave off, especially when it is known that some species of moths are not very busy till very late at night. Still it is not advisable to surfeit oneself with even the sweets of life. Perhaps it is better as a rule to work the early species only on one night, and reserve another for the later ones. The searchings are then always carried on with vigour throughout, and the labours that are thus never made laborious ever retain their attractiveness in the future.

It has often been observed that, when sugaring has been carried on for a few successive nights in the same locality, the success is greater each night than on the one preceding it. Hence it is a common practice to work a chosen 'run' for two, three, or more nights in succession; and some collectors even go so far as to lay on the bait for a night or two previous to starting work. For the same reason it is often advisable to continue the use of a fairly productive beat rather than to wander in search of a new one.

In the neighbourhood of large towns one may often meet with patches of sugared bark that mark the course and extent of a brother entomologist's beat, and such are valuable to an inexperienced amateur in that they give him some idea of the nature of the localities that are chosen by more expert collectors. But it must be remembered that each entomologist has a moral right to a run he has baited, and that it is considered ungentlemanly, if not unjust, to take insects from sugar laid by another. I have sometimes seen cards, bearing the names of the collectors and the date of working, tacked on to baited trees and fences, thus establishing their temporary exclusive rights to the use of their runs. Such precautions are not necessary in large tracts of forest land, where the choice of runs is practically unlimited.

There are two other modes of capture available to the moth collector--the use of decoy females, and the employment of 'sugar traps'--and both these may be used on the sugaring run, or at other times either in the woods or in your own garden.

The wonderful acuteness of the sense by which the males of certain species are enabled to seek out the females has already been alluded to, and the possession of a suitable decoy will often bring you a number of beautiful admirers without the least trouble, except that taken in securing the decoy and preparing her temporary abode. It is absolutely necessary that the female moth be one that has recently emerged, and consequently you had better secure her in one of her earlier stages, either by previous rearing or by collecting the pupae.

A little cage composed of a framework of wire covered with gauze must now be made. Perhaps the simplest pattern is that illustrated. Here the gauze is attached to two wire rings, only a few inches in diameter, and suspended by a string. Such a cage answers every purpose in the field, and has the advantage of folding into an exceedingly small space when not in use. It may be suspended in your garden or taken into the field whenever you have a suitable decoy at your disposal.

The sugar trap may be of much the same pattern as that in which a light is used, but if intended for field work it should be of a convenient size for portability. A lighter and far more convenient form may be constructed as follows:

Procure a large cylindrical tin box, and cut a circular piece of perforated zinc just small enough to drop into it. Then make two wire rings, one a _little larger_ than the top of the tin, and the other only about an inch in diameter. Next make a conical net of leno, open at both ends, and of such a size that the two rings may form the frames of its two extremities. When the trap is required for use, cut a circular piece of flannel or other absorbent, steep it in sugar that has just been flavoured with rum, and place it in the bottom of the tin. Then place a few pebbles of equal size around the sides to support the zinc partition, drop in the partition, and then allow the net to hang on the rim as shown in the sketch.

This arrangement will explain itself. The moths, attracted by the sweet perfume, flutter about in the net till at last they find their way through the small ring. Once in, they make further attempts to reach the sugar; and, at last, finding all efforts fruitless, and, like Paddy at the fair, not being able to discover the 'entrance out,' they finally settle down in a disappointed mood awaiting your pleasure.

Perhaps another word of explanation is necessary here. Why not allow the poor creatures to reach the sugar that attracted them to the spot? The reason is this. They sometimes gorge themselves to such an extent that their bodies, dilated to the fullest capacity with syrup, are a bit troublesome when the insects are placed in the cabinet. It is therefore advisable to see that the zinc is so far above the sugar that the moths are unable to reach the latter by thrusting their extended proboscides through the perforations. A few dead leaves scattered on the zinc is also a useful addition, since it affords shelter to such of the insects as prefer it.

This is a very useful trap to keep in one's garden throughout the season. It may not attract large numbers, but it has the advantage that it requires no watching. It is simply necessary to set it at dusk, and remove the captives in the morning or at your leisure.