Many ferns are not suitable for decoration; for instance, the male

fern (Filix-mas) is of too tender a texture to stand upright when

weighted with colour. The very best fern is the common brake (Pteris

aquilina), as also the common polypody (Polypodium vulgare). The

fronds of the brake should be gathered in August or September, when

they are fully matured and hard, and also when the weather, is hot and

dry. If gathered in continuous wet weather, hardly any amount of

drying will prevent the fronds from ultimately becoming mouldy, when

no amount of after-drying prevents them going brittle and dropping to

pieces. Ferns which have lost their green colouring matter, and are

going red and yellow, dry well, and retain their colours nicely if

quickly dried.

Foreign ferns, such as the various adiantums, the "gold" and "silver"

ferns, and many others, dry well, and retain their colour if care be

used; nothing suits foreign birds better as a background than the

ferns and grasses of the various countries they inhabit.

Paper used in the drying of botanical specimens is sold, but being too

expensive for this particular purpose, a supply of large sheets of

common grey paper used by ironmongers or grocers, or even brown paper,

will suffice--the ferns should, directly they are gathered, be laid

out straight on a board, or on a floor, and covered with paper, then

more ferns, again a layer of paper, and so on--a board weighted with

bricks should be placed over all, and suffered to remain for a few

days; the ferns are then to be turned, the paper dried, and the

process repeated.

When thoroughly dry, the ferns may be coloured with oil paint thinned

with turps and varnish, sufficient to give lustre without shininess.

Here and there break the green colour with white, red, blue, and

yellow, in a manner which will occur to anyone having artistic

ability. Ferns treated in this manner soon dry, and retain their

colour for an indefinite period, the only thing to be said against

them being their rather unnatural flatness--due to pressure; this,

however, may be counteracted by a little judgment during the drying,

one plan being the regulation of pressure at certain points, aided

also by clean dry sand.

Several hard-leaved plants (mostly foreign) found in our

conservatories are also excellent driers, many taking colour readily.

Many grasses (not the flowers, but the leaves or blades) dry well.

Amongst the best of these is the "wiregrass," found in woods, growing

especially over runnels in those localities. The flower also of this

plant is most eligible as a decorative agent. The wood melick is

another elegant and suitable plant.

The sedges (Carex) dry and colour well, as also several of the

water-rushes, reeds, and flags. The "toad-rush" (Juncus bufonius), and

its allies, found in damp places, by roads, by canals, and in pasture

or corn-fields, dry and colour excellently.

Sphagnum, or bog moss, especially when having pink tips, is a most

beautiful object; the only thing to be said against it is the

difficulty of getting it free from water, and the length of time it

takes afterwards to dry.

Mosses of various sorts growing in woods on trees--lichens, gold and

grey, mosses or lichen-covered twigs, sprigs of heather, furze,

sea-lavender--all dry well, and come in usefully.

Many persons like their moss and grasses dyed: this is perhaps

allowable in some cases for common work; but if a bird or a mammal is

nicely mounted, the plainer the fitting, and nearer nature, the

better. To those, however, who desire to dye their grasses, I

recommend Judson's powder dyes as the readiest medium, the directions

for manipulating which are given with them. Any rough grass in flower

does for dyeing, and a visit to the fields just before haymaking will

supply the amateur with all he wants for this.

Teazles, thistles, and the umbels (seed-heads) of various plants,

chiefly compositae, will be found of service; but everything must be

thoroughly dried before being coloured, or before being introduced

into shades or cases. Nothing must be coloured with water colours or

gums, as some writers contend, or mould will inevitably follow. A few

drops of creosote, or the black carbolic acid of commerce, poured into

the case or shade just before closing up, is a very good thing to

prevent mildew, though if everything is thoroughly dried, and only oil

colours are used, no danger from this cause need be apprehended.

SEA-WEEDS, SHELLS, ETC.--Sea-weeds, which are constantly used in

fitting up cases of sea birds, need no description as to their

collection, further than to say that all sea-weeds, whether sea-weeds

proper, corallines, and zoophytes, must be well washed in spring

water, many times changed, to thoroughly remove the salt, and must be

well dried before being introduced into cases or shades. Those who

require full descriptions of British sea-weeds, their collection and

preservation, I must refer to "British Marine Algae," by W. H.

Grattan, published at the office of The Bazaar, 170, Strand, London.

Few sea-weeds proper are applicable to the purpose of the taxidermist,

though some of the oar-weeds can be used, and many of the red

sea-weeds (Rhodosperms) can be floated out in water and carelessly

arranged on paper, if wanted for fitting-up purposes, or more

carefully arranged if for a collection. After washing, these small

plants adhere by their natural mucilage to the paper on which they may

be floated out.

Of all the sea-weeds proper the Carrageen mosses (Chondrus crispus and

mamillosus) are the most eligible, and if dried and arranged in cases

are very elegant. The common coralline (Corallina officinalis)--a

sea-weed which so rapidly attracts carbonate of lime as to be almost

of a stony or coral-like texture--is another invaluable plant for

fitting up. When wet it is usually purple or pink, but on exposure to

the sun becomes white.

Amongst the zoophytes which, though looking like the sea-weeds, are

not of vegetable origin, there are many which are most useful, not to

say indispensable to the taxidermist. Leaving out the foreign corals,

sea-fans, sponges, etc, we shall certainly find the most useful English

species to be first: the broad leaved horn-wrack (Flustra foliacia),

that mass of thin hand-like leaves, of the colour of brown paper,

which is cast up on some shores, often in great quantities. Other

useful sorts are those like little trees, such as the common sea fir

(Sertularia, abietina and operculata); these last are found especially

attached to stones, shells and sea-weeds. The lobster's horn coralline

(Antennularia antennina) and the various sponges are also most useful

things, the branched sponge (Halichondria oculata) and others being

amongst the best for use. Several of the bladder-wracks or

"sea-grapes" will dry nicely, as also will the egg cases of the whelk

and the "sea purses" and "skate barrows," really the egg bags of the

dogfish and skate.

The starfish, or "five fingers," will, after washing, dry well, or can

be plunged in any one of the hardening solutions mentioned in Chapter

IV. The various sea urchins (Echinii), if emptied of their contents,

make pretty objects, either with or without their spines. The

beautiful sea anemones are, however, impossible to preserve as dried

objects, but must be modelled in glass or wax, as imitations. Various

shells come in handily also; amongst those may be mentioned the common

razor shells (Solen ensis and siliqua), several of the Venus shells,

the common limpets, the chitons, several of the trochi, and last, but

not least, the shells of the speckled scallop (Pecten varius).

Many freshwater, as also land shells, come in for decorating cases of

littoral birds. Amongst those of the first we may instance Limnoea

stagnalis, palustris, peregra, etc, Dreissena polymorpha, Planorbis

corneus, etc.; the various Unios, anodons, and many others.

Amongst the land shells very many of the Helices, such as the

gaily-coloured nemoralis, or its variety hortensis, caperata,

arbustorum, cantiana, etc, as well as many other specimens.

The preservation of most freshwater and land shells is exceedingly

easy, the greater number of specimens requiring only to be plunged

into boiling water, and the contents removed--an easy operation in the

case of the bivalves, and the contents of univalves or snail-like

shells being also easily wormed out with a pin or crooked awl.

[Footnote: Mr. R. B. Woodward, F.G.S, etc. in one of the very best and

most practical of those wonderful little penny "Handbooks" for young

collectors, advises a large spoonful of salt being added to the

boiling water, for two reasons, one, because it puts them out of pain

at once, and also makes their subsequent extraction more easy. "It is

a good plan (says he) to soak the smaller shells in cold water

(without salt), before killing them, as they swell out with the water,

and do not when dead retreat so far into their shells."]

For works on shells see "Manual of the Mollusca," by Dr. S. P.

Woodward, J. Gywn-Jeffreys' "British Conchology," Lovell Reeve's

"British Land and Freshwater Mollusks," and several clever articles in

Science Gossip and the Conchological Journal, by Mr. G. Sherriff Tye

and others.

Glue is sufficient to fix all these objects in their places on

rockwork, in cases; resins, such as mastic or shellac, or any of the

cements mentioned in Chapter IV, are, however, the best mediums to fix

such objects upon tablets for scientific purposes. For fixing shells

on labelled cards, Mr. Woodward recommends gum arabic, with one-sixth

of its bulk of pure glycerine added to it, which makes a semi-elastic

cement, with the advantage also of allowing the shells to be taken

from their tablets, at any time, by the intervention of hot water.

DRYING AND STORAGE OF SPECIMENS.--It is always a vexed question how to

keep newly-mounted specimens free from moths, and flies, and dust,

whilst drying. The difficulty is, that you cannot put them away at

once in boxes, cases, or shades, for if you do they do not dry at all,

but "sweat" and slowly rot, or else become mildewed. If you expose

them fully without any covering, they are soon covered with dust, and

liable at any moment to--first, the attacks of meat flies, and next of

moths and beetles.

Good insect powder is, as I have before pointed out, a deterrent;

still, to make assurance doubly sure, I would always, in the case of

valuable specimens, enclose them in square cages, made one side of

glass, and the three other sides and top of fine meshed muslin,

wirework, or perforated zinc, the latter sufficiently fine not to

allow small moths and flies to creep in. These can be made of various

sizes, can be varied by having a top and back of wood, can have the

front to open like a meat safe with shelves, or be simply cases to

lift over the specimens like shades; in any case, however, the front

glass allows you to see how all is going on, and the wire sides permit

a free current of air to pass through to dry the specimens.

In this manner I have been enabled to laugh at the little wretches of

insects buzzing around, and flattening their noses against the zinc,

in vain endeavours to interview some charming specimens of young

birds, whose "fluffy" plumage they delight in. Like the cats, they are

"so fond of noticing those dear little birds!"

Skins not in constant use for reference should, when dried, be wrapped

in soft paper amidst insect powder, and put away in closely fitting

drawers. "Paper fasteners" are very useful to clip the ends of the

paper--folded over--which encloses them.

AQUARIA.--This being a subject a little outside my province, I do not

purpose dwelling on it, further than to say that all information will

be found in "The Aquarium, its History, Structure, and Management," by

Dr. J. E. Taylor, F.L.S, etc.; Gosse's "Handbook of the Marine

Aquarium," and many others. Two recipes, culled from the Scientific

American, 1879, may be of service, however: "Cheap tanks can be made

of wood and glass, the frame and bottom being of wood, and sides of

glass. In order to make the joints watertight, care must be taken to

get a proper aquarium putty or cement. The following is a good recipe:

Put an egg-cupful of oil and 4 oz. tar to 1 lb. resin, melt over a

gentle fire, test it to see if it has the proper consistency when

cooled; if it has not, heat longer, or add more resin or tar. Pour the

cement into the angles in a heated state, but not boiling hot, as it

would crack the glass. The cement will be firm in a few minutes. Then

tip the aquarium in a different position, and treat a second angle

likewise, and so on. The cement does not poison the water."

"To mend the broken glass of an aquarium, fasten a strip of glass over

the crack, inside the aquarium, using for a cement white shellac

dissolved in one-eighth its weight of Venice turpentine."

CHAPTER XIV.

GENERAL REMARKS ON ARTISTIC "MOUNTING," MODELLED FOLIAGE, SCREENS,

LAMPS, NATURAL HISTORY JEWELLERY, ETC.

ARTISTIC MOUNTING.--GENERAL REMARKS.--By the time the student has

slowly worked his way to this chapter, he will no doubt--should he be

apt, and have an artistic mind--have achieved things beyond the mere

drudgery of the profession. I take it that, being interested in his

work, he will not have rested content with mounting--even in a perfect

manner--his animals at rest, but will have "had a shy" at animals in

action, or engaged in some characteristic occupation. The days of

birds on "hat-pegs," stiff-legged, long-necked and staring,

round-eyed, at nothing--of mammals, whose length and stiffness are

their greatest merit--has passed away for ever; and only in dreary

museums, far behind the age, where funereal silence obtains, and where

the dust of mummied animals arises to awe and half poison the

adventurous explorer, are these "specimens" to be found.

Public museums are, unfortunately, in nine cases out of ten, not good

schools for delineating the natural attitudes or characteristics of

animals. This arises partly from the fact that all, save the more

modern ones, retain their original specimens mounted in the old style.

The newer work of the museums of London, Paris, Madrid, etc, is,

however generally of quite a different stamp. [Footnote: Since this

was written, the new South Kensington Natural History Museum has been

built and I lately had the pleasure of a private view--through the

courtesy of Mr. R. Bowdler Sharpe F.L.S.--of the new style of mounting

of the future, i.e. pairs of birds their nests and young, surrounded

with carefully-modelled foliage and accessories. I there saw a bunch

of "willow-herb" magnificently modelled. I was pleased, however, from

an artist's point of view, to discover that we in Leicester could give

them a "Roland for an Oliver" in our white-throats, together with

their nest and young, surrounded by a modelled bramble-bush in

blossom; and with our swallows in section of a cow-house--neither of

which groups have yet been attempted for the national collection. I am

trembling with apprehension, however, that ere long Mr. Sharpe and his

"merry men"--one of them, a German, the cleverest bird-mounter I ever

saw--will leave us in the lurch. Nevertheless, healthy emulation of

the best features of our national collection will do us no harm. ]

This struck me most forcibly with regard to that of Madrid, which I

visited some years ago. The vertebrate specimens were old and

wretchedly mounted, the lepidoptera nowhere; but the recently acquired

animals were splendidly rendered. The youthful and painstaking amateur

will, no doubt, however, do as I did when a boy--viz, pitch upon some

professional taxidermist, to whose window he will repair at all

available opportunities to learn his style, now and then venturing on

some small purchase (usually a pair of eyes), to gain admittance to

the glories within, and have speech with the great man himself.

Exploring in this manner, I have had occasion to thank many of the

leading London taxidermists for little "tips" ungrudgingly given.

A few hints may suffice to help the reader. The most important canon

is: Do not mix your orders of birds; that is to say, abstain from

surrounding a hawk tearing its prey, with various birds in all

attitudes, placidly ignoring the existence of their enemy. A scene of

this kind irresistibly reminds me of the stage "aside," when the

villain of the piece audibly proclaims vengeance against the

unconscious hero but two yards away on his right or left.

Birds not of the same kind, and from different parts of the world, are

often cased together, but this is open to criticism, unless you

avowedly wish to illustrate the whole order for purposes of reference,

as in the instance of, say, the Columbae (pigeons). Pairs of birds are

the most effective, if the idea of the surroundings is nicely carried

out.

I have seen one or two very funny effects in the "Black Country." In

one example, a scarlet ibis, mounted in a case on a broken piece of

highly gorgeous china gaselier; in another, two puppies facing each

other on velvet, a piece of rock salt in the middle, on which stood a

lapwing, surrounded by foreign birds in all attitudes. Need I warn the

reader against such flights of fancy and works of art?

It is, I would remark, quite impossible to give directions as to

attitudes, but on one point I might advise, in order to save the many

inquiries addressed to me, from time to time, upon the subject of the

straightness or otherwise of gulls' legs. The fact is--gulls, when

standing, tuck the tibia quite close to the abdomen, apparently under

the wing, and reveal only a very little portion of the tibio-tarsal

joint, keeping the metatarse perfectly straight, or, as someone wrote

to me once, "like two arrows or sticks." (For explanation of these

parts named, see Plate II, (N, q, P.) )

Although most works on taxidermy profess to give descriptions of the

attitudes of animals, I cannot do so for the simple reason that I

consider the acquirement a speciality and purely a matter of

experience. Nature must be closely studied; failing this, reference

must be made to illustrated works on natural history. All of Gould's

works are grand guides to attitudes of specimens and accessories, as

also that beautiful work of my friend H. E. Dresser, F.L.S, etc, on the

"Birds of Europe;" but as the price of these magnificent works places

them beyond the reach of any but rich people, the amateur may fall

back on Morris's "British Birds" and Bree's "Birds of Europe" for

coloured plates, and Routledge's "Wood's Natural History" for

uncoloured plates of many mammals, birds, and fishes; those signed by

Coleman being especially artistic and natural. Add to these Cassell's

new "Natural History," edited by Dr. Duncan, F.R.S.--really the best

book on popular natural history we have.

Other works, perhaps not so easily accessible, are the "Proceedings of

the Zoological Society," and the "Ibis," for coloured illustrations of

animals--often in characteristic attitudes, and which, with the

above-named works, fitly replace the more ancient "pictures" of

animals, arranged on the "fore and aft" system, and from which instead

of nature, our taxidermists took their original ideas; indeed, the

English school, with true British insularity, would, I presume, have

continued the mounting of animals by this "fore and aft" method, had

not the Germans and French broken rudely in on our slumbering

taxidermists at the Great Exhibition of 1851. [Footnote: Is it not

singular that even now anything stiff, inartistic, "solidly" (i.e.

clumsily) made, or behind the age, is cherished with the utmost

veneration, as being a proof of the solidity of our "Old English

Methods" (and skulls)!]

I propose now to give a few hints on groups, etc, not describing their

management, but merely giving a list of subjects. First, let me say

that in order of merit, in all arts connected with the preservation of

natural history objects, I must, after many years study, give the palm

to the Germans, not only in all matters connected with artistic

taxidermy, but in their elegant and truthful setting of beetles, their

sensible setting of lepidoptera, and their really beautiful method of

making skins of birds etc.

Next come the French, then the English, and lastly, the Americans. The

Americans are the worst simply because they adopt the crudest English

methods of taxidermy, with other bad habits of ours. I may say that I

never saw an artistic piece of work, nor a well made skin, coming from

America, unless done by a German or a Frenchman. I believe, however,

the European element is working wonders amongst them, and reading Mr.

Batty's book (if he be a true American), I was very favourably

impressed with the signs of progress contained therein, and I should

not at all wonder if soon our American friends "go ahead" and quickly

leave us behind.

Professor Henry a. Ward, of Rochester, New York, U.S.A, in a

well-written article in one of his "Bulletins" sent to me, has, since

I wrote the above, confessed the great superiority of European over

American taxidermists, but says that within the last few (very few)

years, their native taxidermists have greatly improved, owing to the

importation of clever foreign artists, who are gradually educating the

American workmen.

Just before this there was an entertaining article in the "Century"

magazine, and illustrations were given showing the best work of the

American taxidermic artists. I must say, however, that, unless the

draughtsman failed to copy what an educated eye looks for, none of

this work struck me as being of a high order--one or two "pieces,"

indeed, being decidedly capable of improvement. Possibly this

improvement has taken place by now; anyway, I heartily wish Brother

Jonathan good luck in his taxidermic studies.

At present, however, I say to all rising taxidermists, follow the lead

of the Germans--they are true artists; and with the Italian modelling

and French neatness of workmanship to fall back on, success is

certain.

Looking back to '51, let us see what one of these foreigners

(mentioned in chapter I) could teach us. Among over fifty groups of

animals shown in the Great Exhibition were:

A stag caught by five hounds (price 180 pounds).

A wild boar set on by three hounds.

A couple of old and young foxes in front of their "earth" (60 pounds).

Trophy of 25 heads of animals of the chase.

Nest of a horned owl. Two old birds and five young defending

themselves against two polecats (30 pounds).

Goshawk attacking an eagle owl.

These were followed by comic groups, six of which illustrated Goethe's

fable of "Reinecke the Fox," and were skilfully managed as well as

amusing. Some others were:

A duel between two dormice, with moles as gravediggers.

"A Declaration of Love." Two weasels.

"A Nursery Maid." One old and four young weasels.

"Shaving a Luxury." One frog shaving another.

Apropos of the above, frogs lend themselves better to comic scenes

than almost any other animal, from their ridiculous likeness, when

erect on their hind legs, to mighty man. Hence advantage is often

taken of this; and amongst mirth-provoking caricatures I have seen "A

Steeplechase," frogs mounted on puppies as horses, some tumbling at

the water-jump, others riding to win, some unhorsed, scrambling after

their steeds, and so on; "The Battle of the Nile," frogs on rafts of

leaves of water plants, attacking one another with small bulrushes;

duel scenes; "Courtship" and "Matrimony"; "Fortiter in Re," a young

frog soundly smacked (in the most approved fashion) by the irate

paternal frog; the companion picture, "Suaviter in Modo," a young frog

soothed by maternal affection.

Monkeys are the next best for comic scenes, but are more awkward to

handle, and not half so funny, unless very carefully modelled to

caricature the manners and customs of the human subject. Pourtrayed as

shoemakers, acrobats, as "You dirty boy!" or, as in the Fisheries

Exhibition of 1883, as "The Enthusiast" (a gouty monkey fishing in a

tub placed in his sick chamber), they are, perhaps, the most

successful. The addition of miniature furniture to assist the delusion

is permissible; but, after all, these caricatures are not artistic

taxidermy, and they are only allowable now and then as a relaxation.

Perhaps that which most exercises the skill and judgment of the

taxidermic artist is reproducing large groups of some of Landseer's

pictures, such as, "The Combat" (two stags fighting); the "Stag at

Bay," and others in connection with hunting. Lion and tiger fighting

over prey; two tigers fighting for possession of a deer; head and paws

of lion or tiger peeping over a rock; tiger crouching for a spring on

some feeding animal; lion and zebra; panther or jaguar crouching on an

overhanging tree-trunk; leopard killed by a gemsbok antelope; polar

bear killing seal on ice; lynx creeping over snow upon grouse; wolf

leaping with fore-legs in air on receiving his death-shot; fox in

"full cry;" fox just missing a pheasant or duck by only securing the

tail feathers; two foxes fighting; fox and playing cubs; fox and

trapped rabbit (after Ansdell); "Heads and Tails," fox coming over

bank as rabbit disappears; dogs and puppies; cats and kittens (see

Landseer's, Ansdell's, Couldery's, and Frank Paton's pictures for

treatment of these); otters and young; otters with fish (see

Landseer's and Rolfe's pictures for these); otters diving after fish,

both seen in mid-water, are some of the studies which have been, or

can be, executed.

Among birds, eagles and falcons at rest or in action are the most

capable of artistic treatment, such as "The Eagle's Throne" (after

Wolf); laemmergeyer carrying off lamb; hawks fighting over a small

bird, allowing the latter to escape; peregrine falcon striking a

bittern; eagle and wild cat; sea-eagle and gulls; osprey and fish. In

connection with the last, one of the very best things I ever saw done

with these specimens was in the Fisheries Exhibition, 1883, a piece of

work--a study it might be called--executed by a German residing in

London. It represented an osprey tugging a fish from some sea rocks.

Both fish and bird were excellently rendered; the latter, with wings

expanded, had gripped the fish with both feet, and had raised it in

the air some distance off the rocks; the fish was, however, entangled

by a line and hook it had swallowed; and the action of the fish-hawk

in attempting to tear the fish away was wonderfully fine, the feathers

were raised about the head, the eye was fierce, and the sidelong waft

of the wings was most natural. The study was all the more interesting

from the fact that both bird and fish were poised in air without any

visible means of support, the case enclosing them being of glass all

around. How it was managed was easy for the professional eye to

discover, but I do not think I should be doing justice to the inventor

to describe the method.

Amongst the water birds, which are the next best, perhaps, for

artistic treatment, come the swans, in the attitude of swimming (see

Chapter XII.), ducks swimming, diving, and flying. "The Widowed Duck"

--after the celebrated picture--was one of the things very nicely

rendered in the "Fisheries Exhibition;" the painting of an artistic

scene at the back of this case helped the effect wonderfully, as it

usually does in good work. "Hooded Crows Tracking a Widgeon," and

"Wounded Tern," fallen by its eggs, were two other clever groups--said

to be "copyright," though how on earth such things can be copyright I

do not know, especially as not one of the things exhibited could be

called original; indeed, everything I saw at the "Fisheries," with the

exception of the osprey mentioned above, had been done over and over

again by German, French, and English artists.

The work of these "copyright" groups--excepting the foliage, which was

rather "stiff"--was, however, very clean and nice, and favourably

compared with work by other taxidermists, many of whose "pieces"--as

the Americans say--should have been refused on the score of

pretentious incompetence.

There was one detestable exhibit, all the more grievous as being

professional. No wonder that people, seeing this sort of thing, should

laugh at fish and bird "stuffing." As I looked and wondered, I felt

that a first-class assortment of injurious epithets applied to such

"work" would have relieved my perturbed spirit.

This digression puts me in mind of another, and that is to warn the

amateur not to "know too much," and think he has nothing to learn

directly he can set up a bird or mammal, or anything else, in a fairly

respectable manner. The people who know everything, and imagine they

cannot be taught, are just the people who know very little and who

will never learn more. "Duffers" they are, and "duffers" they will be,

to the end of their days. Every sensible man, even should he rival

Methusaleh--which heaven forfend!--must be learning Art (even should

he teach) all his life.

Make haste to learn, therefore, from anyone who can give you a hint,

and don't set yourself up (or down) in some obscure country town and

fancy you are great. Come out into the world, measure yourself against

the best, criticise your own work as if it were a stranger's. Be

honest, and say, "That man's work knocks mine into a cocked hat," and

then go home miserable, but determined to beat that man's work or

perish in the attempt. Never sneak! If you see first-class work by

anyone, go boldly and say, "Sir, I am an amateur," or, "I am a young

professional," as the case may be. "Your work interests and delights

me. May I look around?" Doubtless, the person addressed will be

flattered by your appreciation, and, unless narrow-minded, will

exchange views with you to your benefit.

Let us return to our theme. Amongst the water birds, then, we may

instance herons with young as making a nice group, moorhens leading

out their young on water under a mossy bank and so on; and this brings

us to the question of mounting pairs of birds, with their nests and

eggs, or nests and young.

GROUPS OF BIRDS AND YOUNG, WITH MODELLED FOLIAGE--Nothing in taxidermy

requires more correct mounting and taste, and nothing is more

charming, if properly done, than illustrating the life-history of,

say, a pair of birds with their nest and young. Take any birds you

like--sparrows or robins--and, if you know anything, you may "invest

with artistic merit" even such common specimens as these. There is a

certain fascination in young things which, I suppose, calls up all the

kindly feelings of our nature, and so it is that young birds tended by

their parents are groups which appeal the most to the finer senses,

besides being really educative if worked out properly.

I remember, quite twenty years ago, when a boy, seeing a collection of

nearly all the "British" birds, their nests and eggs, for sale, so

that the idea is not a new one, nor is that of surrounding such

groups, with proper accessories and modelled leaves and flowers, as

will shortly be exhibited to the public in the new "British" Natural

History Room at South Kensington, and as is now exhibited in the

Leicester Museum. I remember getting foliage done for me many years

ago for such groups, and I believe Mr. Shaw, of Shrewsbury, did it

long before I copied his lead. Who was the original inventor of this

system I know not, but I shrewdly suspect we have to thank French

artists for this. Let it be thoroughly understood that I do not intend

to disparage the beautiful work done for South Kensington by the

various gentlemen and artists interested, but I merely point the

adage, "Nothing new under the sun."

Of course, when I say "modelled foliage" I do not allude to stamped

leaves in various materials, sold at so much (or so little) a gross,

and used to "decorate" "boxes of birds" in the "Black Country" quite

fifty or sixty years ago, but that which has arisen on its ashes in

response to the cry for "more art," and because of the impossibility

of getting any other natural flowers than "everlasting," or any other

leaves than those of grasses and ferns (mentioned in the last

chapter), to dry for decorative, or, as we say, "fitting up" purposes.

To describe the processes involved in copying leaves and flowers of

any plant from nature, so that all will appear perfectly life-like and

yet be durable, and stand exposure to moderate heat and cold, would

take up too much space, added to which, my personal knowledge of all

is required in this is of such recent acquirement, that, although I

have fairly succeeded in teaching myself modelling of this kind, and

have executed a few groups, yet I would like a little more time to

elapse ere I pose as a teacher; but, no doubt, when the time comes,

someone--perhaps the publisher of "Practical Taxidermy"--may be

induced to give the results of my labours to the class most

interested.

I may instance some groups: Robin's nest, in bank covered with ivy,

and primroses in flower, the old female bird feeding the young, the

male searching for more food, or singing on branch near nest;

long-tailed titmice, in furze-bush (South Kensington); chiff-chaff, in

long grass, surrounded by willow-herb; chaffinches in blossoming

hawthorn; white-throat's nest, with young, surrounded by leaves and

flowers of the bramble (Leicester Museum); blue-tits, in apple-tree

with modelled foliage and flowers; moorhens swimming, with young just

leaving nest, surrounded with water-lilies, flowering rush, and other

plants; grouse and young; swallows, in section of cow-house, with

plants, etc, growing on roof (Leicester Museum); grebes and nest, amid

marsh plants and marsh marigold in flower, etc. (South Kensington).

To give a tenth of the phases of the studies which can be worked out

would fill pages of this book; suffice it to say that nature, being

the guide in this, must be rigidly adhered to. There is, of course, no

need to copy any accidental awkwardness; but don't invent too much, as

the greatest charm of all is taking Nature as your guide. At the back

of these groups may be placed the eggs, and birds of the same species

in change of plumage or winter dress, thus making the life history

complete. For museums, and similar educational institutions, the food

and the skeleton should be exhibited, with explanatory label attached.

Reptiles and fishes are most unsatisfactory things to treat

artistically. When set up and dried they shrivel, and are seldom

modelled nicely. (To counteract such shrivelling, see Chapter XII.) I

have almost made up my mind that, taking into consideration the

stiffness of outline usually present in mounting by the ordinary

methods, all fish should be cast in plaster or paper, although even

then stiffness may be present unless the fish is posed properly. Fish

lying in a mass on a bank, or in a dish, as were some at the

"Fisheries," look the most natural and easy.

One plan, new to me, however, was adopted in such subjects as large

pike, etc, which were cast, coloured, and placed in a long basket upon

straw, the whole covered with glass. This method is especially nice

for the hall table as a souvenir of piscatorial success. I was rather

disappointed in the colouring of these casts. Many of the artists had

entirely missed the subtle colours of the pike, trout, and other fish

--one salmon only, and one dishful of grayling, magnificently managed,

excepted. [Footnote: One of the very best books I know to help teach

the colouring of fish is "British Freshwater Fishes," by the Rev. W.

Houghton, M.A. Two vols, quarto, each fish beautifully drawn and

coloured.]

Perhaps, the best treatment of fish, when modelled in plaster, was

exhibited in the Indian section; here the tints of the fish were

beautifully managed, the skins appeared wet, but not varnished, and

all the colours were nicely blended in. As for the stuffed fish, their

name was legion, and they were there in all degrees of merit. One

thing, however, struck me with painful surprise; among the thousands

of freshwater fish I saw mounted by taxidermy, not one was without

those ridiculous little spears (cut from large rushes, or from paper)

growing from the bottom of the case, each one, or each bunch of them,

erect as possible, and almost always arranged at equal distances

apart, with maddening precision.

Some of the sea-fish admitted of more elastic treatment, and I saw one

very good exhibit of these. The artist had, however, rather detracted

from their undeniably good treatment by modelling small stones. These

were so natural as to require a label explaining this; but I would

remind all workers in taxidermy that there is no useful end gained by

modelling small stones; a great amount of labour is wasted, and the

intention of modelling--which is to replace the great weight of large

stones by extraordinary lightness--is completely overlooked.

"SCREENS."--The ordinary screen intended for use is made of two sheets

of thick plate-glass, between which are pressed ferns, butterflies,

etc, the whole set in an oak or other wood frame, with castors.

Those intended for ornament are more lightly made. Thus: A square

frame, about 30 in. by 24 in. by 4.5 in. deep, is made in thin fancy

wood, or in pine veneered; no front nor back is fitted, merely a

groove ploughed all around, with "beads," to receive and to retain the

glass, on each face. This frame is then fixed by screws, with buttons

fitting over the screw holes, between two turned and carved uprights

(like small bedstead posts), supported by carved feet on castors; a

handle of carved wood is fixed on top of the box, which completes the

joiner's work. The inside of the frame is papered and coloured; the

birds--usually brightly-coloured foreign birds, or humming birds and

butterflies--are inserted, properly mounted on light twigs, etc, and

the glass beaded in, to complete all.

One very nice "screen" was exhibited at the "Fisheries," almost a

reproduction of the woodcut illustrating the outside of Science

Gossip, with the addition of a hawk striking the kingfisher. There

were also two large and capital trophies, called "The Rod". and "The

Gun," remarkably cheap, mounted as screens in framed bamboo. The first

represented a string of large fresh-water fish depending from a branch

of a tree, a creel, a rod, a landing-net, and other angling gear. "The

Gun" showed a fine bittern and heron, and, I think, some other birds,

also depending from a branch, with a gun and some old-fashioned tools

(powder-flask, etc.) included.

"Screens" filled with corals and sponges (Euplectellae, etc.) would be

very handsome and useful. I am not sure whether I have seen any

managed in this manner.

Very handsome "screens" for the mantelpiece may be made up from owls,

hawks, seagulls, and a variety of other birds. The birds being skinned

out through an opening in the back, the wings and tail are cut off and

spread out on a board, with fine needle points driven through their

webs until the pair of wings--the butts or shoulders placed

inward--assume the shape of a long oval; the tail is fully spread by

the same means, and wings and tail are "wrapped" with cotton and left

to dry. The head and breast are stuffed independently of these and

sewn up.

When all is ready, a handle of about 8 in. to 10 in. long by 0.5 in.

square must be turned out of ivory, ebony, or any wood desired. One

end of this should be turned the full thickness of the wood for about

1.25 in. from the top, then drilled with two holes through its

diameter, and a slot cut of 0.25 in. in width longitudinally for the

full length of the 1.25 in. to receive a thin piece of oval shaped

deal about 4 in. long by 2.5 in. broad by 0.25 in. thick, which should

have a silken loop attached, and a piece of blue or other coloured

silk stretched over it, and the edges of the silk tucked under the

wood and attached by paste; this latter is then fixed to the handle by

rivets running through the two holes previously drilled.

The wings and tail are now glued and pinned to the uncovered part of

the thin wood, the shoulders of the wing inward, the tail radiating

from the bottom. On top of these comes the body (also wired and glued)

fitting in the small space left between the wings. The silk during the

fixing of the wings, tail, and head, should be protected by paper

pasted over all, and which can be removed when the screen is finished.

Screens are also made of single large birds, such as the peacock, or

swan and heron; these are stuffed in the same manner as above, but

instead of being attached to handles should be fixed on a shield of

some fancy wood, the back of which must be polished, and made to slide

up and down on an upright standard, springing from carved legs.

Still more handsome screens are those intended to flank the fireplace.

These are, however, ovals of glass, set in carved or gilded frames,

which are made to slide up or down on a standard or upright, supported

by a carved tripod. Humming birds or insects are included between the

glasses of the carved oval. These screens are made of all sizes, the

standard of some standing 5 ft. to 6 ft. high, the ovals being often 3

ft. by 2 ft.; but smaller ones are constantly made.

JEWELLERY.--Following the example of the ladies who indirectly send

expeditions to "frosty Caucasus or glowing Ind" to take tithe of

animals for the sake of their skins, of birds for their plumes, and of

insects for their silk, to be used in adornment, society demands that

objects of natural history should not be all relegated to the

forgotten shelves of dusty museums, but live as "things of beauty and

joys forever." Hence the new alliance between the goldsmith and the

taxidermist, resulting in a thousand ingenious combinations of nature

and art--a list of a few of which may not be unacceptable as hints.

For earrings, two leopard's claws are mounted as miniature Robin Hood

bugles, the mouth and bell of each being of gold, attached to which is

a chain depending by its centre from the ear-wire. Two tiger's claws

placed base to base, their hooks pointing inwards, are strung and

clasped with gold, thus forming the lyre of the Tragic Muse, as a

brooch or ornament for the breast. Beetles, usually of the genus

chrysochroa, also, are set as earrings. Humming birds' heads, their

throats surrounded with a fillet of gold, form also handsome brooches.

The feet of the various species of grouse and owls are capped with

silver or gold (in which is set a cairngorm), the toes tipped, or the

tarsus banded with silver or gold, to form clasps or brooches.

Pins for the sterner sex are mounted up from the teeth of foxes or

dogs, or more curiously of their noses even. Hares' ears are also

mounted for both sexes, especially for the Scotch markets. To turn

from the adornment of the person to that of the house, we find horses'

hoofs mounted in silver or electro for snuff boxes, inkstands, paper

weights, etc.; rams' or buffaloes' horns as Scotch "mulls" or as flower

stands. Sometimes the whole head of a ram or buffalo is mounted, the

horns polished, sawn in two, hinged and mounted in silver, and set

with Scotch stones. Deers' heads are mounted as gas chandeliers;

foxes' heads as gas brackets or as supports for Duplex lamps; monkeys,

bears, ibises, owls, eagles, etc, as "dumb-waiters" or lamp bearers.

These are a few of the uses to which mammals and birds can be put.

Emu's eggs form also handsome goblets when sawn through and mounted in

silver, or when mounted as vases for the chimney-piece, or formed into

an inkstand group.

Foxes' pads mount up as whip handles, bell pulls, and paper knives, as

also do the feet of the various deer. The only satisfactory way,

however, to prepare these is to slit them carefully up the back, and

pull the skin away from the bone all around, leaving the skin attached

to the lowest point you can skin to. Clean out all the flesh and

sinews, and dress the skin with the No. 9, and the bone with No. 15,

preservatives. Stuff with a little chopped tow where needed, and sew

up neatly, sewing also the skin at top over the end of the bone; if

done neatly, the stitches will never show. Use waxed hemp, and pull

each stitch tight.

Game birds stuffed as "dead game" and hung in oval medallions form

suitable ornaments for the billiard-room or hall if treated in an

aesthetic manner. Not, however, in the manner I lately saw perpetrated

by a leading London taxidermist--a game bird hanging in a prominent

position, as if dead, from a nail, enclosed in an elaborate mount, the

bird so beautifully sleek and smooth that, although it was hanging

head downwards, not a feather was out of place! All was plastered

down, and gravity and nature were utterly set at defiance. A little

consideration, and a visit to the nearest poulterer's shop, would have

prevented such a palpable error.

Kittens or puppies of a few days old, if nicely marked, can be stuffed

and mounted on a piece of marble for paper weights, or on red cloth

for penwipers.

The shells of small tortoises make tobacco pouches if lined with silk,

as do also the skins of the feet of albatrosses (the long bones of the

wings of these birds make pipe-stems) or squirrels mounted as a whole.

The shells of large tortoises make fancy baskets if the lower shell or

plastron is sawn away, with the exception of the centre piece, which

is left to form a handle. The shell may be lined with metal or with

any other material or fabric desired.

Lobster claws make up as Punchinellos, or as old men and women, or--as

exhibited at the Fisheries--handles of fish-knives and forks, tops

of inkstands, paper weights, etc. The uses of ivory, either in the

rough, or sawn and polished, are too manifold to notice here.

FEATHER FLOWERS.--I have seen some splendid specimens of flowers (made

from waste feathers of birds) brought from China, the Island of

Ascension, and Brazil, but can give no directions for making them,

further than to say that I should suppose anyone skilled in the making

of such artificial flowers as are sold by the best milliners, or

makers of wax flowers, would have but little difficulty in making up

these beautiful objects.

This is, of course, but a précis of the various uses to which objects

of natural history can be applied as means of ornament; and, indeed,

so many branches are represented by this department of art that it

would require a book double the size of the present, and written by

experts of the various professions and trades concerned, to give a

full history of the practical working of what is known as "Ornamental

Taxidermy."

=======================================

CHAPTER XV.

COLLECTING AND PRESERVING INSECTS.

THE taxidermist will, in the course of his avocation, require to know

something of various insects, their methods of capture, and how to

preserve and utilise them in his profession.

Of the various orders of insects, Hemiptera (earwigs, field-bugs,

etc.), Orthoptera (cockroaches, grasshoppers, locusts, etc.), Diptera

(flies, etc.), Neuroptera (dragon flies, May flies, Ac.), Lepidoptera

(butterflies and moths), Coleoptera (beetles), and Hymenoptera (bees,

wasps, and Ichneumon-flies, etc.), the Lepidoptera and Coleoptera will

find most favour in his eyes, owing to their brilliancy of colouring,

variety of shape and size, and easiness of manipulation.

It must be remembered, however, that insects should be collected with

a definite purpose by the taxidermist, and not merely for pastime, or

he will degenerate into that most Odious of all created beings--a

collector for the sake of collecting, or what used to be called an

"exterminator." Indeed, I have known of a case in which over 1600 of

the males of a certain species were caught in one day, "assembled" by

the attractions of seven or eight females. These figures seem

incredible, but for the fact that I myself saw part of the spoil

displayed on a 12 ft. board.

Need I say that such slaughter as this is far beyond the bounds of

fair collecting, and that such courses, persevered in, give the odious

title of "exterminators" to all those who practise it. In this

particular instance the moths were made up into "pictures," which,

though ornamental perhaps for a workman's home, hardly justify the

slaughter of any but the very commonest or harmful species.

The tortoiseshell, peacock, and admiral butterflies are often bred in

hundreds for the purpose of making a "picture" of a snake strangling a

tiger, or a crown, or the wings are cut by punches to form the petals

of flowers, to be afterwards grouped under shades. All these things,

though very curious, and really striking if well done, are steps in

the wrong direction, and on a par with the use of humming and other

birds for ladies' hats--all of which adaptations of natural history

objects to commerce inexpressibly "worry" anyone with the slightest

taste or feeling.

If a really beautiful object is wanted, in order to show a group of

exotic or other insects as specimens, out of a cabinet, you may mount

them in as natural a manner as possible on grasses or fine twigs, made

as directed, setting them off with a few foreign ferns, and inclosing

the whole in a "mount," to hang up, or in a narrow oval shade with

carved oak or other stand; or they may be scientifically and

artistically mounted, to show the life-history of any one species, by

arranging the larvae feeding on a properly modelled representation of

its natural food-plant, the imagines, male and female, with some few

striking varieties, shown at rest or flying, as also the eggs and the

pupa-case, with a description of their economy affixed. A few

specimens of families or genera of insects shown thus is, to my mind,

of far greater importance, especially to museums, than mere

"collectors" are aware of.

Many works have been written on the collecting and preserving of these

orders, and especially of the Lepidoptera, vide Dr. Guard Knagg's work

on "Collecting Lepidoptera," Rev. Joseph Greene's "Insect Hunter's

Companion," and many others, including a little work on "Collecting

Butterflies and Moths" by myself.

Cruelty has been advanced as a crime specially to be laid to the

charge of the student in entomology; but some of the greatest workers

in that science have been ladies and clergymen, as also laymen of the

most humane and advanced scientific principles. A vast amount of

ignorant ideas, carefully nursed, are used as weapons against the

entomologist--the pet one of which is, that impalement of a living

insect through the head constitutes the sole aim and end of the

collector.

The fact is curiously inverse of this, for not only are insects

captured for purposes of study, but they are never impaled alive but

by a very ignorant or careless person. The lepidoptera (butterflies

especially) are very easy to kill, the simplest plan being to press

the thorax underneath the wing with the finger and thumb, which

instantly causes death. This is now superseded by the cyanide bottle,

of which anon.

It is singular how many people there are, even in the middle class,

who fail to recognise the fact that the egg (ovum) produces the

caterpillar or "grub" (larva), which, after a due season of

preparation, produces the chrysalis (pupa), which latter, lying

quiescent for a variable period, either in the ground or in other

situations favourable for its development, changes the last time to

the perfect insect (imago). This latter, if a butterfly or moth, does

not, as some people imagine, grow, but after it has unfolded its wings

on emergence to their full extent, it never becomes either larger or

smaller.

An insect, especially a butterfly, when seen by a youngster, is

usually chased in the most reckless fashion--jacket and cap, and even

sticks and stones, are pressed into the service, and the unfortunate

insect is usually a wreck before its fortunate (?) captor falls on top

of it.

I shall endeavour in the following pages to show the proper way in

which to collect and preserve insects, especially the lepidoptera and

coleoptera.

NETS.--The first thing to be considered is, how to catch your game.

This is managed by a "net," not of the construction of those mentioned

in Chapter II, but made of a lighter material. They are of various

shapes, the professional, or old English pattern, being something of

the construction of a "bat-folding" net. It is, in my opinion, a most

unsportsmanlike weapon, rapidly going out of date--if not deceased

already--and is fitly replaced by the Continental, or "ring"-net,

which is now generally used. However, it may, perhaps, be necessary to

describe how to make this machine or clap-net--fit only for dealers or

exterminators.

Procure two pieces of ash (or beech, as being the lighter wood), each

of about 5 ft. in length. With a plane or spokeshave round these up

until they taper from 1 in. diameter at bottom to little less than 0.5

in. at top. Now saw each rod into four pieces of 15 in. long, or, for

greater strength, but less portability, into three 20 in. pieces.

Ferrule these in the manner of fishing-rods, so that each rod joins up

to its normal length of 5 ft. At the top of each rod fix a

specially-made ferrule, bent or brazed to about the angle of 45 deg.

Next get two pieces of cane, each 15 in. in length, and of sufficient

diameter to fit tightly into the bent angle of the top piece; bore the

top ends of these canes and tie them loosely together. If the rods

with canes attached are now laid down, with the ends of the canes

pointing inwards, it will be seen that they assume somewhat the shape

of the gable-end of a house, which would fold in on itself by means of

the cord acting as a hinge.

Now get some stout black holland, which sew all round the rods to

within 6 in. of the ends of the bottom joints, so as to fit loosely to

allow them to be inserted or withdrawn at pleasure. When the cane ends

are tied together, cut a hole on the top of the holland, so that you

may be enabled to untie them when required. This hole, for greater

neatness and strength, should be "button-holed" around. To this

framework of holland attach at the bottom some strong black tape,

which pass through the holes previously bored in the last joints of

the rods within 6 in. of their ends. This prevents the net slipping

either up or off when in use.

The material of the net itself is the next consideration. This is of

"leno," a cheap kind of strong gauze. Procure as many yards of this as

will make a loose bag when sewn on and around the framework of

holland, when the net-rods are folded together; bagging especially at

the bottom part, so as to fall down some inches when the net is held

up.

You have now a portable bag, or "clap-net," of over 5 ft. high by 2

ft. 6 in. or more wide. To use this machine, you simply stretch it to

its full extent and run out in front of any insect you wish to stop,

clapping it smartly together and securing your captive in the bag

formed when the net is shut. Some little practice is needed to do this

neatly, especially with such dashing, fast-flying moths as the

"Emperor," or "Bee Hawks." Laying down the net, and confining the

insect to one part, is the best way to get it out uninjured. To take

this net to pieces, the tapes at the bottom and the cords at the top

require only to be loosened, when the rods can be drawn out,

unjointed, and slipped into a bag or a pocket specially sewn in the

breast of the coat to receive them.

When portability is not a desideratum, the rods may be easily made of

green hazel (or nut tree) wands, bent and secured into shape and dried

in the sun, or up a chimney, or otherwise a strong cane may be steamed

(or boiled) and dried in like manner; few people, I opine, however,

care to carry out from a town two long roughly-shaped rods of 5 ft. or

6 ft. long in this clumsy fashion.

I did not wish to describe this net at all, as it is, in my opinion, a

most unsportsmanlike or un-entomological weapon, as nothing can escape

it. Indeed, a friend of mine not inaptly describes it as the "gobbler;"

and it does really "gobble" up any insect it is used against.

The continental or ring net is now generally used. For one variety a

tin or brass Y is made, into the bottom arm of which a stick fits. The

spreading arms serve to hold a cane, which is bent round, and each end

thrust in. A net of gauze or leno, is attached. My objection to this

net is that the cane often slips out of the arms of the Y, which

latter also breaks at the junction; added to which it takes up a great

deal of room, not being very easily doubled without the risk of

breaking. The points which a net should possess in perfection

are--first, strength; secondly, portability; and, thirdly,

adaptability to more than one use. I shall endeavour to show by the

next two figures my ideas of a perfect net.

Fig. 41--Plan of "ring" net.

Fig. 41 shows a strong and easily made net. To make this, procure some

brass wire, gauge No. 8 or 9. Cut from the ring of wire sufficient to

form a net a foot in diameter, allowing enough in addition for two

short arms. Cut off about 3 ft. 8 in, which will allow for joints;

divide this so that one half is about an inch and a half longer than

the other; make one end of the longest piece into a small loop,

cranking it at the bottom, as shown at C; one end of the other piece

is then thrust through the loop at A, turned round, and beaten down,

forming as it were two links of a chain; this acts as a hinge, and

allows the net to be doubled. The other end is then cranked, as shown

at B, but shorter than the arm C.

Next procure sufficient of the material known as black "holland,"

which sew all round the ring of the net in such a manner that it does

not interfere with the working of the hinge. For this purpose a strip

of about 2 in. wide will be enough, which, doubled over and hemmed at

the bottom, allows sufficient for the net--a bag made of the material

called "leno"--to be subsequently affixed. About a yard of "leno"

suffices for the bag, and the pieces which come off the bottom during

the operation of rounding it, form "gussets" to fill the net in up to

the point where the arms B and C first spring.

To fit this net ready for use, get an ordinary walking-stick, a

portion of which is shown at A (Fig. 42), in which bore two holes, one

on each side, to receive the little returns shown at B and C (Fig.

41), and at such a distance from the top of the stick as is determined

by the length of the arms. With a 0.125 in. gouge or chisel, groove

out the wood from these holes to the end of the stick, until the arms

of the net just, "bed" up level with the surface.

The arms being nicely adjusted, remove the net temporarily from the

stick. Next procure a piece of brass tube from 2 in. to 2.5 in. long,

and of sufficient diameter to slip from the point of the stick until

it passes the last hole (a 0.625 or 0.75 in. diameter will be found a

generally suitable size). On the extreme point of the stick affix an

ordinary walking-stick ferrule of such a size and thickness as not to

allow the tube to slip off. To fix the net, slip the tube up the stick

past the last hole, and placing the little cranks, B and Q in their

proper holes, the remainder of the arms properly "bedded" in the

grooves, slide the tube D (Fig. 41) up to the point of the stick, as

shown in Fig. 42, and the net is thus effectually locked and ready for

use.

Fig. 42--"Ring"-net complete.

I claim for this net the following advantages: That it is the most

easily made, the strongest, and the most easily taken down of any net

known; added to which its joint A, which does not in the least weaken

the frame, allows it to be folded in half the space taken up by the

"ring net" or the ordinary "landing net" arrangement. (Note for

fishermen: Landing nets, formed as Fig. 41, I have found very useful,

as they take up less room in the fishing basket, and are quite as

quickly put together as by the screw and socket arrangement.)

Larger nets than are generally used in this country will of course be

necessary when collecting such insects as form the genus Ornithoptera

or Morpho. For collecting abroad no net will be found more serviceable

than a large and strong one, made as Fig. 41; and really when you have

five large papilios in your net at one time, as I once had, you

require one a little out of the common. A short handle to the net will

be found more useful than a long one for collecting some insects, but

a brass telescopic handle can be easily made by any gasfitter, and

used either long or short as expediency directs.

The next figure shows apparently a more elaborate looking net. The

only other one known to me which folds in four, folds by means of the

rule joint, and is somewhat objectionable, inasmuch as it must either

be made of unnecessarily thick and cumbersome wire, to stand the

strain, or if made, as it should be, of the proper sized wire and of

light construction, it is sure to break out at one or the other of the

joints. Experience having proved this, I devised the net shown in Fig.

43, which, in compliment to a gentleman who gave me a hint with regard

to the slide, I have called the "Hill Sliding Net." This slide allows

the net to be folded to just half the size of the preceding one,

making it, therefore, highly convenient to carry.

Fig. 43--The "Hill sliding net," open.

Fig. 44--The "Hill sliding net," closed.

This net frame is, I fear, beyond the power of the amateur to make for

himself, being really a brazier's job. A A A A are four pieces of wire

of the same thickness as used for the preceding net. The two top

pieces are flattened out at the top and each one drilled with a hole,

b b. At e e e e are little brass tubes, brazed to the arms, which

allow each arm to slide down on the other. When these are brazed and

fitted to slide they are fixed to the tube D by smaller tubes, one on

each side, in this manner. At f the arm is brought across the tube and

permanently fixed in the smaller tube. At g the other arm is brought

across in the same manner, but allowed to revolve in the small tube

brazed to the side of D; the end of this am (on the right of Fig. 43)

coming through the tube is coiled round and brazed to a screw, H,

fixed in such a manner that, though screwing freely through a burr

fixed on D, it cannot come out.

There are then no loose pieces to this net, which, from the nature of

the slides, is remarkably strong, and is easily opened and shut. (Fig.

44 shows the net folded, and with the arms slid down one on the

other.) To finish, tie a piece of whipcord in the holes from b to b,

and sew the holland all around the net as before, leaving plenty of

room for the playing of the slides; the "leno" is then sewn to this in

the usual manner, and thus becomes a fixture, as in the preceding net.

To open and fix the net from the position shown in Fig. 44 (which for

the sake of clearness is shown without the "leno "), pull the whipcord

C (now hidden, of course, by the holland) and ease up the slides; bend

over the revolving arm until the screw H comes over the hole in the

burr on D. Push the walking stick A (Fig. 45) into the tube D, and

screw up H, the point of which enters the stick, and firmly fixes and

locks the net. Fig. 45 shows the net ready for use.

The arrangement of the whipcord at C is to enable the net to be used

as a "sugaring" net in addition to its ordinary use for catching; C

being pressed against a tree, the corner of a wall, a fence, or a gas

lamp, etc, readily accommodates itself to any angle required.

A useful net for sugaring purposes, if Fig. 45 is not used, is one

recommended by Dr. Guard Knaggs. It is of triangular shape, the frame

of it being formed by socketing two pieces of paragon wire into a

metal Y piece, and connecting their diverging extremities by means of

catgut, which, when pressed against a tree or other object, will adapt

itself to the outline of it, as shown below by the dotted line (Fig.

46).

Killing Insects.--Having caught your butterfly, you will wish to kill

it in the most painless and least troublesome manner. For this purpose

you will require a "cyanide bottle." Purchase, therefore, at the

druggist's a wide-mouthed bottle (a 4 oz. bottle is a handy size for

the pocket, but you will require larger sizes for certain uses). Into

this bottle put from an ounce to an ounce and a half of pure cyanide

of potassium, in lumps, not pounded (a deadly poison), which you will

completely cover with a layer of plaster of Paris, mixed to the

consistence of paste. The bottle may be corked, have a screw top, or

glass stopper, according to your fancy. A glass stopper is, of course,

the safest to confine the deadly vapour given off, but in point of

convenience, and especially for outdoor work, nothing can surpass a

well-fitting cork--rising sufficiently high above the mouth of the

bottle to afford a good grip. As the plaster is setting it should be

well shaken down to insure an even surface, and afterwards a piece of

wool or blotting-paper should be put into the bottle to absorb any

superfluous moisture. In the course of a day, the plaster will be dry

and ready for use. [Footnote: A piece or pieces of blotting-paper cut

to fit will be found very handy to introduce into the bottle from time

to time to absorb all moisture, and to keep the specimens themselves

mean and dry.]

Fig. 45--The "Hill sliding net" ready for use.

Fig. 46--"Sugaring" net.

The insect being captured, you twist your net rapidly over to get it

as near to the bottom as possible--a very necessary precaution in the

case of a swift-flying or excitable insect. Holding the net now in the

left hand, take the bottle, previously uncorked, in your right hand

and slip it into the net and over the insect. In case of refractory

insects, blowing from the outside will sometimes make them go to the

bottom of the bottle. When this happens, you can slip your hand from

the outside over the mouth of the bottle, and hold it there until the

insect is corked up. In less than a minute it is stupefied and

motionless. If taken out, however, it will revive; it must be left in,

therefore, from ten to fifteen minutes. In the case of female insects

which have not yet deposited their eggs, and are consequently

exceedingly tenacious of life, a longer time will be found necessary.

Bruised laurel leaves, chloroform, benzol, etc, are recommended by some

authors. The first is, I think, uncertain in its effects, and has,

perhaps, a tendency to make the insects go ultimately mouldy. The

second stiffens the wing rays of some insects to such an extent as to

render them difficult to set. It has been recommended in the case of

large insects, such as the hawk moths, to pierce them underneath the

thorax at the insertion of the first and second pairs of wings with a

steel pen dipped in a saturated solution of oxalic acid. I have

frequently done this myself with good results in the days when cyanide

bottles were unknown, but for the largest hawk moths--"Death's heads"

even--I find nothing to beat a large bottle (a glass jar, such as the

French bottle plums in, does admirably), in which is placed about 0.25

lb. of cyanide. With a killing jar of this kind, which I call the

"home" bottle, I have frequently instantaneously killed mice and even

rats. In fact, the volume of poisonous vapour evolved from one of

these bottles is such, that I advise my readers not to take "sniffs"

therefrom, lest severe headaches, or worse results, should follow.

As it is nearly all but impossible to pin an insect so correctly as

you would wish during the hurry and excitement of butterfly hunting, I

recommend that all insects captured when the collector is from home be

laid on their sides, and the pin passed through the body whilst in

that position. This saves the unnecessary marking of the thorax by

more than one pin hole, as the pin can be removed without detriment to

the formation of the body, and the insect pinned in its proper

position when the collector reaches home.

SETTING.--Having brought the entomologist to this point, I may discuss

what to do to preserve the trophies of the day's chase. First, then,

the insects must be "set." To do this properly is the vexata quaestio

of the day. As a nation we anciently practised the "setting" of

lepidoptera with four or eight braces, two or one underneath and two

or one on top of the wings. The wings were then not so fully extended

as now, but the body was pressed as close to the setting board as it

was possible to get it. The next step was the cork setting board, cut

to show in section nearly a half oval, the bodies were a little raised

from the set, and the rounded points of the fore and hind wings

invariably touched the paper of the cabinet when placed therein,

curling up wherever they touched.

Fig. 47--Section of "Setting Board"

Fig. 47 shows a section of a "setting board" designed to remedy this

evil. The block A is formed of a piece of 0.75 in. deal, 12 in. to 14

in. long, and of varying widths according to the insects required to

be set. Exactly in the centre a groove is "ploughed" to the depth of

0.5 in.; from the outer edges of this groove B the board should be

"pitched" or "bevelled" 0.125 in. on each side to its outer edge. On

top of each half, a piece of 0.125 in. cabinet cork C C is glued, and

also in the groove B, where shown at C.

Presuming that you have a "Red Admiral" to set with 1.125 in. or a No.

13 pin, you will find, if allowing 0.125 in. for the body, that after

setting an insect in a board of this kind the matter will be pretty

evenly adjusted--that is to say, about 0.5 in. of pin above and below

the butterfly. This allows the insect when placed in the cabinet to be

well clear of the paper, and is the mode now generally adopted by

those entomologists who effect a compromise between the ridiculous

English low setting and the Continental "high-set." What the real

objections are to this latter setting it has always puzzled me to

discover, unless it is the true British objection to anything foreign

or "French."

In a foreign Camberwell Beauty (Vanessa Antiopa) which I have just

measured, the relative proportions are as follow: The whole length of

the pin is 1.5 in, it comes through the body on the underside 0.875

in, whilst above the body it shows but a little more than 0.25 in. Its

advantages are manifest. First, it brings the insects much nearer the

eye when placed in the cabinet. Secondly, by its position the body is

prevented from greasing the paper of the cabinet (a not unimportant

item when the reader is told that the white velvet of a newly-lined

cabinet drawer has been utterly ruined by the grease from the bodies

of low-set insects). Thirdly, the almost total immunity from "mites"

which high-set insects enjoy.

This last consideration ought to induce our entomologists to adopt the

Continental set nem. con. For what entomologist dare tell me that he

has no mites in his cabinet? Is it the user of camphor, of creosote,

of phenic acid, or of corrosive sublimate? Why, then, this foolish

prejudice against the high-set? I have tried both plans, low setting

for fifteen, and high setting for ten years. I have, as an experiment,

mixed high-set insects in with low-set "exchanges." The brown dust

underneath the latter tells their tale too well. In a box of foreign

high-set insects which I have had by themselves for four or five years

little or no trace of the destroyer is to be seen.

Reform your "setting boards," then, say I; plough your grooves deeper,

and if you object to the flat appearance of the foreign set insects,

there is no earthly reason why you should not "pitch" your boards to

the angle I show in Fig. 47, or to any other angle you desire. The

objection to this "high-set" lies in a nutshell: it looks "odd" to one

accustomed to the English method, and that is really all to be

advanced against its general use.

Let me, therefore, ask my brother entomologists to give the "high-set"

a fair trial, and not to be deterred by the sneers of any novice. It

may strengthen my pleading and terminate the hesitation of the young

entomologist if I mention here that the officer in charge of the

collection of lepidoptera in the British Museum--the well-known

authority, A. G. Butler, F.L.S, etc.--is not only setting all

newly-received butterflies and moths in precisely the fashion

advocated above, but is actually re-setting all the old "low-set"

insects in the same manner!

Whilst on the subject of foreign insects I should like to impress upon

the young beginner not too greedily to rush after "real British"

specimens of rarities, or he may find that he has purchased, at the

expense of some pounds, perhaps, a reset continental type worth as

many pence. I fancy I see our would-be entomologist shaking his head

and very sagely saying, "Oh no! I intend to collect all my insects

myself." My young friend, let me tell you that you will have to

collect far beyond the prescribed threescore years and ten if you

would yourself collect all the British lepidoptera. Work, therefore,

in collecting as hard as you can, and when you want a rarity to fill

up a void in your cabinet, go at once to some respectable dealer and

ask for a continental type of the insect you want, place it in your

cabinet, label it "Foreign," and when you can replace it with an

undoubted "Britisher" think yourself lucky.

Fig. 48--Butterfly "braced" on board.

To make my meaning plain, we will take the Bath White butterfly

(Pieris Daplidice) as an example. An undoubted British specimen of

this, caught, say, at Dover, is certainly worth a sovereign--the price

of a continental one precisely similar, but captured on the other side

of the "silver streak," 5d. Difference in cost for a mere fancy,

19s. 7d.!

Again, what would be the price of an English captured Oleander Hawk

(Choerocampa Nerii)--shall we say from 12 to 20 pounds, according to

the conscience of the vendor and the pocket of the purchaser? A fine

foreign specimen, beautifully set and precisely similar, can be bought

for about 5s.

To set your butterflies, see Fig. 48, which shows a common white

butterfly braced on the setting board. To do this your insect must be

truly pinned as before directed, and placed in the centre of the

groove A B (which is also shown in section at B, Fig. 47); four pieces

of thin cardboard, each about 1 in. long, are cut to the shape shown

at C C C C. An ordinary pin is pushed a little way through them at

their bases.

With a fine needle now lift up from underneath the left hand upper

wing of the insect to about the angle shown in Fig. 48; picking up a

brace with the left hand, push the pin in the cork in such a manner

that the brace lightly holds down the wing. Do the same with the

underwing. Repeat with the other side. [Footnote: The braces shown in

Fig. 48 should be a little nearer the tips of the fore wings, or

supplemented by stiff papa pinned across, otherwise the tips are

likely to curl up when drying.]

I have been assuming that the wings of the insect previously lay flat.

If they are folded up above the back they had better be pushed down

with the braces instead of with the needle, and pinned to any position

they will readily fall to, and from that gradually worked up by means

of another brace to the angle required. The fore pair of legs should

be braced to the front, and hind pair of legs, especially of moths,

are to be braced out to fall neatly between the body and the wings.

Sometimes very fine cambric needles are thrust through, just

underneath one of the wing rays, to lift up and keep it in position,

-until the braces can be brought to bear. This ought not to be

resorted to except in extreme cases, or for other than cabinet

specimens.

A correspondent (Mr. G. H. Bryan) writing in Science Gossip for

December, 1883, says:--"The grooved cork, instead of being glued to

one wooden board, is fastened on to the two boards, the groove between

them corresponding exactly with the groove in the cork. These in turn

are held together by three slips of wood, to which they are firmly

nailed. In setting insects, the pin should not be run into the groove

just above the slips. If run into the cork anywhere else, the pin can

be pushed through to any depth required, and, as a rule, the slips are

so high that, when the board is laid down on a table, none of the pins

touch the table."

I some time ago saw, at the house of a well-known naturalist and

traveller, residing near Cirencester, an ingenious arrangement applied

to setting-boards, by which the groove of each board could be altered

so as to take in the body of the smallest or the largest butterfly or

moth at will. It was managed by one half of the board being movable

from its fellow, and capable of being adjusted to any size, by simply

turning a screw working in a slot in a brass plate at top and bottom.

Another method of setting insects is by means of "blocks," sections of

varying widths cut from the uncorked setting-board, the grooves only

being corked. The insect being pinned in the groove is extended with

the setting needle, and the wings lightly wrapped, when in position,

with silk coming over and over, from side to side. To do this nicely

requires practice, to avoid marking the wings with the silk.

The "block" system of setting is more used by collectors in the

Midlands and the North than about London or in the South. Insects

should be left on the setting-boards or blocks from two or three days

to a week, or even more, according to their size; and during this time

should be kept out of the dust, but allowed air to dry them

thoroughly.

The German system of setting by means of pieces of glass dropped over

the wings when in position is a clean neat method of "flat" setting,

allowing the insect to be clearly seen if it be truly "set" or not.

When insects are from any cause too stiff to set without first

relaxing them--placing them in the cyanide bottle for a day or night

will often do this effectually, or placing them in a wet corked zinc

box, or in a box with damp sand, or in a small "plaster box" will do

equally as well. This is made by lining the whole of the inside of a

wooden box with plaster of Paris mixed with water, and laid on from

one to two inches thick. The plaster is, of course, thoroughly damped,

and the insects enclosed in the box. The same pins with which they are

pinned whilst relaxing should not be permanently left in, if it be

possible to remove them without injuring the aspect of the thorax.

Pins so left in, being more corroded than usual, frequently break

after being in use a short time.

Old insects, which it may be dangerous to relax, or large foreign

unset lepidoptera, may sometimes be set by a skilful hand by having

their wings carefully pinched off by forceps, and replaced in the

required position by using a strong paste or cement (see Formula No.

33): Repairs may be "executed with promptness and despatch" by

cementing on parts of other wings to replace torn or missing pieces,

or tissue paper may be used, providing the repairer is a skilful

artist. I once saw a very poor specimen of Urania rhipheus--a splendid

moth from Madagascar--so cleverly pieced by tissue paper and coloured,

that it would deceive any but an expert.

Beetles (in science--Coleoptera) may be sought for everywhere--in

woods, fields, ponds, rivers, underneath stones and exuviae of cattle;

in decaying leaves, trees, and fungi; in and underneath dead animals;

in cellars, outhouses, and even in what would be supposed the most

unlikely place to find them--ant hills, bees' and wasps' nests--and in

the rubbish collected at the sides of streams, especially if after a

flood. They may be taken by sweeping, beating, sugaring, or by

carefully prospecting tufts of grass, moss, leaves, and flowers. Bags

of moss or ant-hills may be brought home and looked over at leisure

for minute beetles--throwing rubbish into water, or sifting it over

white paper, being the handiest way to reveal them.

For those which inhabit water, a net made of any strong material,

which allows water, but nothing else, to run through quickly (a net

fashioned as in Fig. 41 or 46 will do for this), should be used as

well as for collecting other water insects. Beetles may be brought

home in small test tubes, corked at the open end, or in quills stopped

at one end with sealing wax, and at the other with wadding, or a quill

may be inserted in the cork of a larger bottle, into and through which

they may be dropped, or they may be killed at once in the cyanide

bottle, or otherwise thrown into a bottle containing alcohol, in which

corrosive sublimate (in the proportion of 6 gr. to the ounce of

spirit) has been previously placed, which effectually kills and

ultimately tends to preserve them.

On reaching home, the contents of this bottle may be turned out into

any shallow dish kept specially for that purpose (a photographer's

"print" pan) and fished for with small pieces of paper or cardboard,

and the spirit afterwards returned to the bottle. The larger beetles

are to be pinned through the right wing case, and never in the centre,

their legs being nicely arranged in the proper positions, and in some

cases the wings may be displayed. The more minute beetles may be

gummed on a small slip of card through which the pin passes, their

legs arranged by the aid of fine patience, a crooked pin, a camel-hair

pencil, and a pair of small forceps, the latter being also very handy

for picking up any other small objects.

In setting the larger beetles, as well as the various thick-bodied

insects, belonging to the orders Orthoptera, Neuroptera, Diptera, and

Hymenoptera, double braces instead of "setting"-boards may be used in

the following manner: The insect being pinned high on a board or piece

of cork, with legs extended, two large pieces of card, one for each

side, are brought up underneath the wings and close to the body by

pins stuck through the corners. This forms a rest for the wings when

extended, which are then braced on top of the cards by smaller braces

in the usual manner, the pins, however, of the braces falling outside

the supporting cards and fixing in the wood or flat cork underneath.

Many exotic insects--butterflies and moths--are set in this manner,

which is really "flat setting." If the braces are at any time too limp

and do not seem to clip the wings properly, a little piece of cork

just sufficient for the pin to slip through may be added on top of the

brace.

The larger beetles and other insects, such as the dragon-flies,

cicadas, grasshoppers, and "walking leaf" insects, should always have

the contents of the abdomen removed either by pressure, or by being

cut underneath, and, when empty, injected with a little of the

corrosive sublimate preparation, and afterwards filled out with wool

or blown out with a small blowpipe until the abdomen is again

distended and dry. Some insects which are narrow at the "waist" may be

advantageously snipped through at that part to remove the contents

therefrom, the body being afterwards fixed with gum or cement to its

normal position.

In the setting of beetles--as in other things--the ubiquitous Germans

and the Frenchmen beat us. Compare the beautifully foreign set

coleoptera, with our wretchedly lame and uneven-sided attempts. It is

impossible to mistake the ordinary English for foreign setting, and of

this I was curiously convinced on my arrival at Leicester, in the

Museum of which town I found some exquisitely-set specimens of

coleoptera. I said at once, "These are German-set." "No, indeed," I

was told, "they are set by a local man." I could not believe it; and

after great difficulty, the man himself even persisting in this

assertion, I discovered that they were all procured from Germany or

were set by a German friend.

This gentleman having subsequently shown me his method, I now give it

for the benefit of coleopterists: The beetles, after being killed, are

plunged into benzoline (benzol) for two or three days, to cleanse them

from grease and impurities. Indeed, it considerably simplifies matters

to carry a bottle of benzol, as I do when collecting beetles, to

plunge them into when first taken. It instantly kills, and the

cleansing operation goes on at once. On reaching home the beetles are,

after a day or two, pinned, or gummed unset on to any pieces of card

in any manner most suitable at the time to economise space; the cards

can then be pinned into a store-box.

During the winter months, or at any time when required, the beetles

may be set, thus: first, plunge them into water for a day or so until

quite limp, then take them out and place them one by one on separate

pieces of card, well gummed in the centre to retain them firmly by the

abdomen whilst being set. A very little time will suffice to do this

should the gum be strong.

After twenty or so are fixed, the first one gummed down can be

finished off. The card is smeared with gum where the legs, or rather

"tarsi," will come into place, and arranged with a setting needle. Now

carefully place the limbs into a natural and even position, their feet

resting on the gummed surface; adjust the antennae, etc, and leave the

insect to dry by pinning the card in any suitable receptacle. When

perfectly set and dry, the final operations are once more plunging the

beetle into benzoline, then wetting its abdomen and feet to release it

from the dirty card, and lastly slightly re-gumming the underneath and

tips of the feet with cement (see Formula 33) and finally adjusting it

on a clean card, which may be labelled or numbered, and secured by a

small pin at each end in the cabinet or store-box.

COLLECTING AND OTHER BOXES.--The collecting box is a small box made to

fit the pocket, corked top and bottom, opening in the middle, and made

of sufficient depth to allow the heads of the pins on one side to well

clear the insects, which may be pinned on the other. Collecting boxes

may be made of various woods and of various sizes to suit the pleasure

and pocket of the collector. They should be made light but strong, and

a little fillet of thin wood should be inserted along one side on the

front edge, to ensure the close fitting of the box. Another sort of

collecting box is that corked at the bottom, having a flat lid, on

which a piece of cork is glued, and cut to fit the box tightly when

closed, thus forming the top lid. This style is also used for postal

boxes.

In very hot weather, or if the collector roves far afield, he will

find that many of his butterflies, if placed in the ordinary wooden

collecting box, will have become stiff before he can reach home to set

them. The remedy for this is a zinc box lined with cork, which latter

is soaked in water before commencing the day's collecting. These boxes

are made in various shapes and sizes. A handy one for the pocket is a

7 in. by 4 in, 2.5 in. deep, made of an oval shape if desired, corked

on top and bottom, the cork held by clips of zinc soldered to top and

bottom. For more extended operations a larger box will be required,

say, 13 in. by 9 in, 2.5 in. deep, with loops soldered to the back,

through which a strap passes to suspend it from the shoulders. These

boxes are lighter if made in tin, and the water does not corrode them

so rapidly if they are japanned inside as well as out.

"Postal boxes," by which entomologists transmit their captures to one

another, should be made of strong white pine, the tops and bottoms

nailed on, on the cross. They may open in the middle or at top, as

before mentioned, and further have a strengthening piece of thick cork

glued all over them outside and rasped down to the shape of a rough

oval.

Inside, the cork should be glued down on top and bottom; on this a few

small strips of the same cork running across with interstices left

between them. On top of this another sheet of cork, thus forming three

thicknesses, in which the pin is pushed as far as it will go. In the

case of large-bodied moths, or any valuable insects, it is as well to

support the abdomen with a layer of wool, cross-pinning the body on

either side to prevent it jarring or shifting. The box may then, for

greater security, be wrapped in a sheet of wool and tied up. The

address should not be written on the box, or the stamps affixed

thereto, but on a direction label, otherwise some vigorous post-office

sorter, or stamper, will convince you to your sorrow that he scorns

such paltry protection as is afforded by the triple alliance of wood,

cork, and wool.

The Germans cover the bottoms of a great many of their entomological

boxes with peat, and this certainly holds the long pins firmly in

transit; and it is also much less expensive than cork.

Foreign insects, when space is limited, may be sent home unpinned and

unset, their wings folded over their backs, and each specimen wrapped

in silver or tissue paper. It is astonishing what a number of them

will pack in this manner in the compass of an ordinary cigar box.

"Drying houses" are sold by most of the dealers, but are expensive and

cumbersome, and are really only of service when travelling, or

collecting away from home. For this reason I suggest the

following--which is a store box and receptacle for setting boards

combined.

Make of 0.5 in. deal a box 20 in. long and 15 in. wide by 0.5 in. deep

(all inside measurements), glue up all but the front piece (4 in. wide

by 20 in. long), which merely tie in its place whilst glueing up the

others. Cut the box when dry through the 4 in. back piece to exactly

halve it. Hinge each half with strong hinges. It now resembles an open

backgammon board box, without its two fronts.

Take now a strip of 1 in. deal, 15 in. long, and form it with a plough

plane to the shape shown in Fig. 49. The part marked A will be 0.375

in. thick, the parts marked B B overhang 0.25 in, and rise from A to B

B to the height which the thickness of your setting boards determine.

Divide this down the whole length with a cutting gauge where shown by

the dotted lines; glue one of these halves to the side of one of the

bottoms of the box, and from here measure off 5 in, which will be the

size of your largest setting board for hawk moths. At this point glue

down a whole strip, as shown in Fig. 49, which (supposing you have

commenced from your left) clips the right-hand side of the first or 5

in. setting board, and the left-hand side of the second. Proceed in

this manner until the bottom of the box is covered with setting

boards, which will now slide in and out between the 0.375 in.

divisions. Turn the box round and do precisely the same with the other

half.

As many more insects under, than above, 4 in. in expanse of wing will

be captured, the most useful sizes for setting boards, as also the

proper proportions of boards and divisions to fill up the bottom of

each half of the box, are as follow:

First half.--0.25 in. strip, 5 in. board; 0.375 in. strip, 4 in.

board; 0.375 in. strip, 3.5 in. board; 0.375 in. strip, 3 in board;

0.375 in. strip, 2.5 in. board; 0.25 in. strip = 20 in. total.

Second half.--0.25 in. strip, 3.5 in. board; 0.375 in. strip, 3 in.

board; 0.375 in. strip, 2.5 in. board; 0.375 in. strip, 2.5 in. board;

0.375 in. strip, 2.25 in. board; 0.375 in. strip, 2 in. board; 0.375

in. strip, 1.5 in. board; 0.25 in. strip = 20 in. total.

Fig. 49--Section of division strips.

There are thus twelve setting boards 15 in. long, of the most useful

sizes, contained in this box. The front is still as it was, open. The

loose piece of wood, 20 in. by 4 in, must now be cut down the length,

and each half must (making 20 in. by 2 in.) be hinged to the top and

bottom of the box; a lock can then be fixed to bolt together the two

halves, hooks also being fixed at each end of the box to further

secure the front flaps. Fig. 50 shows the arrangement of the box at

this stage--shut, but with the front flaps lifted up and down, showing

the "sliding" setting boards snugly fixed within. Insects may by

this method be left on the boards whilst travelling without the

slightest risk, as nothing can come loose, and the pins of one side

miss those of the other when the box is shut and locked.

Fig. 50--Front of setting-board box, with flaps open.

A more simple plan, serving equally as well perhaps, and having the

advantage of dispensing with the intervening slips, therefore giving

more space for setting boards, is simply fixing a slip of wood at each

inner end of the box, and another on each flap, so arranged as to hold

all the setting boards down when shut. This is managed by allowing the

wood of each setting board to protrude beyond its cork to the

thickness of the slip--say half an inch. [Footnote: This box should be

made in oak or mahogany; put together with brass screws, if for

"foreign service."]

Insects, after removal from their "sets," require to be stored in

glazed cases or cabinets for greater security and protection against

evils previously glanced at. Some collectors content themselves with

using for this purpose the ordinary store-box, made in the same manner

as the collecting box, but of greater capacity. One 15 in. by 10 in.

by 4 in. deep will be found a useful size; this--opening in the same

manner as a backgammon board--is corked with cabinet cork, each sheet

of which is usually 11 in. by 3.5 in. or (double size) 12 in. by 7.5

in.

The cork being glued evenly over each half of the box, is rubbed down

with pumice-stone, and afterwards with sand-paper, to get an even

surface and reconcile the joints one with the other. It is then

papered with white blotting-paper, toned, or black paper, pasted down

over the cork with paste, in which has been previously stirred a

little carbolic acid or corrosive sublimate (both poisons).

It has also been recommended to previously steep the cork, especially

if for "foreign service," in a solution of:

Corrosive sublimate, 0.5 oz.

Camphor, 1 oz.

Spirits of wine, 1 pint.

Some little care is, of course, required in the handling of poisoned

cork, etc, but I do not write expecting that infants will be allowed to

handle the various lethal agents with which these chapters necessarily

abound.

Another sort of store box is the book box, hinged at the back and

opening along the front, representing two distinct volumes of a book.

This is either covered in cloth, labelled with gilt letters, or is

made in mahogany, the bands let in in ebony, or white wood, and strips

of lettered leather pasted in between them. [Footnote: see remarks on

leather in chapter XII.] All around the box inside runs a little ledge

of wood for the reception of glass, which, as each half is filled with

insects, is pasted in with ornamental paper.

For those who delight in camphor, a piece of perforated cardboard or

cork should be placed in the corners, forming angle pieces, and

enclosing within the triangle thus formed, the (un)necessary morsels

of the drug. When filled, it should be pasted over on the top, and the

glass then fits close on top of it. Book boxes have one or two

advantages: they look well in a library and take up but little room,

and are easily handled when showing them to friends. As exhibition

boxes they are nearly perfect.

CABINETS.--The entomological cabinet is a much more serious matter;

there is no limit to its size, from the modest one of six drawers to

the "working" one of thirty. The size of the drawers varies with

individual taste. A nice size, however, is 18.5 in. long by 16.5 in.

by 2.5 in, or the 20 in. by 18 in. by 2.5 in, or deeper if for large

insects.

No amateur, unless he is a past master at joinery, can hope to

construct a thoroughly well-made cabinet; indeed, few cabinet makers

know how to turn out one to suit a veteran entomologist. Briefly: the

drawers of a first class cabinet should be made of the best Spanish

mahogany, or oak, in every part; no "baywood," "cedar," or any such

spurious stuff should enter into its composition (good white pine

being preferable to such). Cedar is totally unfit for store boxes or

cabinets, owing to its tendency to throw out in time a gummy

exudation, which settles on the wings of the insects and utterly ruins

them. This remark applies also to cabinets for eggs.

The frames which hold the covering glass should preferably fit by a

tongue resting in a groove, ploughed with a "filister" in the

substance of the drawer itself. A fillet should rest inside, fitting

against the inner edge of the frame, which should also be lined with

velvet, to further exclude the dust. Drawer and frame should be made

so true that the latter should fit back to front, if required, equally

with its normal position. The carcase, or part into which the drawers

fit, either by runners or in grooves by tongues attached to the

drawers, should be made so truly that No. 1 drawer should fit in the

place of Nos. 15 or 30, and vice versa, and all should "suck" back

when pulled out half way. The drawers should be looked by "pilasters,"

or have glazed and framed doors.

There are but few makers of such cabinets as I have just described,

and prices are proportionately high, a sovereign a drawer being about

the figure. Fair cabinets in mahogany or walnut, quite good enough.

ordinary purposes, can be made, however, for half this sum, and deal

ones a little less. The corking of these best cabinets is generally

done before the bottoms are fixed, as thus an open surface is obtained

for rubbing down, by leaving out the bottom until corked. White or

black velvet, instead of paper, is often used to cover the cork.

Some little skill is requisite to do this without soiling the delicate

material; the best way is, perhaps, to glue the cork on cardboard, cut

to the size of the drawer, less the thickness of the velvet all round;

on this glue the cork, rub it down as before directed, and strain the

velvet over it, bringing its edges underneath the cardboard; glue the

bottom of the cabinet drawer, and drop the prepared velvet-covered

cork and cardboard into it, place clean paper over the velvet, and

weight it down for a day or two. This plan ensures the cleanliness of

your covering medium--a highly necessary precaution if using white

velvet.

There are many other ways of fitting glass to drawers than that

recommended. For instance, a hinged frame may be used, dropping in a

"rabbet," ploughed around the front, back, and sides of the drawers;

or the top frame may have a tongue fitting inside the whole substance

of the drawer, or the glass may be a fixture, beaded or puttied in on

top, the whole of the bottom unscrewing from the drawer frame. This

latter is very well for a collection when fully made up and complete,

but if required for an incomplete collection, the risk and annoyance

of unscrewing and screwing up, to constantly remove or insert a

specimen, are great.

In view of the almost impossibility of keeping dust out of even the

best-made cabinet drawers, if made on the top-lifting system, and also

to do away with the screws, I have devised what I call the "dust-proof

cabinet drawer." The glass is "beaded" and puttied in as a fixture on

the top of the drawer, either from the inside or out. At the usual

distance from the glass, to clear the pins, a strip is fixed all

around the frame of the drawer. Below this, at a depth settled by the

thickness of the bottom, a groove runs all around, except at the back,

which is cut out up to the bottom edge of the groove. The bottom, when

corked and papered, fits inside the frame, "butting" up to the strip

which clips it all around to about the width of 0.25 in. A false

bottom now slides in the groove below, and fastens with a catch,

making all perfectly secure and altogether dust proof.

If well made, this drawer is easy to open, as, directly the false

bottom is removed the inner one slips down and is found on the table

when the upper part is lifted off. The only thing to be said against

this drawer is that the fronts show a little deeper than usual to

allow for the extra bottom.

A modification of this is a closely glazed cabinet drawer, with a

false corked bottom, loosely held down by a slip affixed to each side

of the drawer, and sliding out from the back; managed by hinging the

back piece or fixing it by brass eyes and hooks. Note, that all loose

flaps to drawers or door-frames, in best cabinet-work, should be

worked and fitted by "Dust-joint" planes. This reduces risk and dust

to a minimum.

PINS.--The pins used are those called entomological, and are made in

various sizes to suit various insects. An insect should be pinned with

one of these exactly in the centre of the back, running through truly

to the underneath, slanting, however, a little downward toward the

body, thus throwing the pin's head a little forward, but exactly in a

line with the longest axis of the body. These are specially made by

one or two firms only. Messrs. D. F. Tayler and Co, of Birmingham,

issue a sample card, the most useful sizes of which are No. 11 (at 6d.

per oz.) for the hawk moths, No. 13 (at 6d. per oz.) for smaller moths

and butterflies, and No. 7 (at 2s. 6d. per oz.) for small moths, and

such butterflies as the "Blues." I have, of late, almost confined

myself to No. 2 (at 2s. per oz.), a long fine pin, useful for many

purposes (see chapter V).

There are many other sizes, but these will be found quite sufficient

for the beginner. These pins are also gilt, under the impression that

gilding tends to prevent the corrosion of verdigris which the juices

from the bodies of some moths, the Hepialidae especially, induce. This

is not so; the Continental black varnished pins are better safeguards,

but prejudice forbids their use. Messrs. Tayler now make all their

sizes in "enamelled black" to order, at the same prices as their

gilded ones.

Varnishing the common entomological pins with a hard and nearly

colourless varnish has been tried with good effect, though it is a

trial of patience to do this to pins one by one. Really the only thing

to stop grease appearing in the bodies of moths, to the subsequent

breaking of your pins and soiling of your cabinet paper or velvet, is

to open all the insects underneath, take out all their internal

organs, carefully paint the inside with a little of the corrosive

sublimate preparation (see Chapter IV), and fill up the void with

cotton wool. Unfortunately the evil of greasy exudations from the

bodies of unstuffed or low-set insects does not stop at the corrosion

of the pins or greasing of the paper, but in many cases extends to the

underlying cork, which is sometimes so badly greased as to necessitate

the cutting out of the damaged patch to prevent the grease reappearing

when the drawer is newly papered.

GREASE AND MITES.--"Grease" and "mites" are in fact the bêtes noires

of the entomological collector. When you have an insect, therefore,

old and greasy, but yet "too fondly dear" to throw in the fire, place

the offender on a piece of cork weighted at the bottom with lead and

sink it bodily in a wide-mouthed bottle, partly full of benzoline;

leave it there from a day to a week, according to its state. When it

comes out it will look even worse than before, but after being covered

up with a layer of powdered chalk, magnesia, or plaster of Paris, it

will often come out as good as new.

I say often, for cases occur now and then in which no amount of pains

restores the insect to its pristine freshness; but these exceptions

are few and far between. "Mitey" insects are cured in a similar

manner; in fact, I would advise that all exchanges be submitted to the

benzoline test. I have also used Waterton's solution (see chapter IV)

to plunge them in, though 6 gr. of corrosive sublimate to the ounce of

alcohol are about the proportions of the bath for most insects; but

the spirit may be increased, if, on trial with a common insect or

black feather, it should be found that the mercury is deposited as a

white stain on the evaporation of the spirit.

Rectified aether (pure) is a better medium than alcohol for rapidity

of drying (especially in a draught), but is more expensive. Nothing, I

believe, prevents mites (psocidae) appearing now and then even in

poisoned insects. Constant care, stuffed bodies, and soaking in

benzoline, are the deterrent agents; camphor is a pleasant fiction, so

is wool soaked in creosote, phenic acid, cajeput oil, crystals of

napthelin, etc.--in fact, it may be laid down as an indisputable

doctrine that no atmospheric poison is of the slightest avail against

mites. [Footnote: See remarks on this in chapter IV.] Get them to eat

poison, or drown them and shrivel them up in spirit and you may settle

them, but not otherwise.

I have heard of cabinet drawers suffered to remain upside down to

prevent mites getting to the insects; but I very much fear that such a

plan as this, is on all fours with that of a man whom I knew, who,

being abroad in a "Norfolk-Howard" infested country, turned the head

of his bed every other night to puzzle the enemy!

The late Mr. Doubleday, the father of English entomology, never

admitted camphor in his cabinet (thinking, as I do, that it conduces

to grease), but used the corrosive sublimate preparation instead, to

touch the underneath of the bodies of doubtful strangers. Loose

quicksilver or insect powder is by some strewn amongst their insects;

but the danger of the first to the pins, and the untidy appearance of

the second, militate against their general use. [Footnote: It is quite

true that, although camphor evaporates rapidly, and settles on

anything, so as to be perceptible even to the naked eye, yet that it

re-evaporates and ultimately disappears. This, to my mind, is the most

fatal objection to its use: its ready evaporation leaving the insects

etc, ultimately without any protection.]

HAUNTS.--Having given a brief outline of the capture, setting and

storing of an ordinary insect, I will, in as few words as possible,

give a short history of any peculiarities attending the capture of

extraordinary insects.

Some butterflies and moths (the autumnal appearing species) live

through all the winter hid up in hollow trees, outhouses, etc.

appearing at the first rays of the spring sun to lay their eggs and

die. Others pass through the frost and snow as pupae, bursting their

cerements in the sunshine, to live their brief life and perpetuate

their race; others eke out a half dormant existence as minute larvae,

others pass the winter in the egg state. In fact, each species has its

idiosyncrasy. [Footnote: Here, perhaps, I may explode that myth and

"enormous gooseberry" of the mild winter or early spring, headed in

the newspaper every year as "Extraordinary Mildness of the Season":

"We are credibly informed that, owing to the mildness of the past

week, Mr. William Smith, of Dulltown, Blankshire, captured a splendid

specimen of a butterfly, which a scientific gentleman to whom it was

sent pronounced to be the small tortoiseshell Vanessa, etc." Now the

fact is, that Urticae merely came out for an airing, awakened from its

winter sleep by the extraordinary warmth of the day, and it might just

as likely have been "shook up" on the preceding Guy Faux or

Christmas-day; all the Vanessidae, and many others, being hybernators.

Far different, however, is it when any of the "Whites"--Pieridae--are

seen or caught. They indeed do herald the coming spring, as, lying in

the chrysalis state throughout the autumn and following winter, some

degree of continuous warmth must take place 'ere they can emerge.]

The swallow-tail butterfly, first on some British lists, must be

sought for in the fens of Norfolk, and Cambridgeshire, and

Northamptonshire. It is a strong flyer, and requires running down,

unless when settled on the head of one of the various umbelliferous

plants it delights in. The clouded yellow is usually a lover of the

sea-coast during the months of August and September--though in that

year of strange climatic changes (1877) it appeared in considerable

numbers from the beginning of June, whether hybernated, or an early

brood evolved from pupae lying dormant throughout the last summer, is

an open question.

The Purple Emperor, now one of our rarest insects (I have not seen it

alive since the time when I was a boy, and saw it around the oaks of

Darenth Wood), was formerly captured by the aid of a net fixed to a

pole 30 ft. or 40 ft. long. But accident or science discovered,

however, that this wearer of Imperial purple possessed a very degraded

taste, descending, in fact, from the tops of the highest oaks to sip

the juices from any decaying or excremental matter. Now, therefore,

the recognised bait is a dead dog or cat in a severe state of

"highness." The "gamekeeper's museum" in the few places where Iris now

resorts may be searched with advantage, yielding also a plentiful

supply of beetles of various sorts. The "Holly Blue" I have noticed to

have a similar degraded taste.

Mud holes also in hot weather attract many butterflies, as do the

sweet exudations from various trees, or from fallen or over-ripe

fruit.

Occasionally a high-flying insect may be induced to follow to the

ground a stone or piece of turf thrown up in front of it. The

persistent manner in which some species will return again and again to

the very same spot is something wonderful. The same flower head, the

same muddy puddle or patch of road, is selected. The collector, if

foiled in his first attempt, will do well, therefore, to wait for the

probable return of his prize. Certain species frequent the chalk

district only, others woods and sandy lanes; some are found only high

up in the mountains of the north, others but in the low-lying valleys

of the south.

The sea coast has its specialities, some insects even flying well out

to seaward, in crossing from land to land. I remember a

"crimson-speckled footman" moth, Deiopeia pulchella, flying on board a

steamship whilst we were fully a hundred miles from the nearest land.

No place, in fact, should be disregarded in which to search for

insects, for some are so exceedingly local that a district of perhaps

twenty miles in extent may be searched in vain for a desired species,

until the collector suddenly comes upon one or two fields swarming

with them.

Nor is this all, for in the case of two or three extremely local

species, but one or two spots in the British Isles are their favoured

haunts. Bean fields in flower, clover and lucerne fields in sunshine,

are first-class hunting grounds, whilst on cloudy or very windy days

many butterflies, such as the Blues, may be found resting on grasses

or on tree trunks in woods; or, as in the case of the Hairstreaks,

higher up under the leaves. Beating the boughs with a long stick will

often force insects to fly, when their presence is unknown to us.

I have hitherto spoken of the collecting of insects by day only, but

as there are many insects--moths--which appear but at night, we must

follow them to their haunts, prepared with lantern and net. In the

dusk of the evening, just as the sun sets and twilight comes on, we

must take our stand near the flowers frequented by certain moths. In

spring the blue bell, cherry, and apple blossom may be watched.

Later on, the blossoms of lime trees, flowers of the honeysuckle,

bramble, petunias, scabious, and a host of others. Nettle beds also

are great hunting localities at this time of the evening for many

moths. Dark and sheltered hedgerows of lanes, fields of mowing grass,

willows near water, heather, the seashore, all add their quota to the

persevering entomologist. The sallow blooms (commonly called "palm"),

both male and female, must be searched early in spring time for the

whole of the genus Taeniocampa and many other newly-emerged or

hybernated species. As they usually drop at the first contact of the

light from the lantern, the net must be held under them, or a sheet

may be spread under the bush, and those which do not fall at first may

be shaken off the blooms with a smart stroke or two of a stick. If the

bushes are not high, "hand-picking" with the net held in readiness is

really the best.

Ivy blooms in the autumn are also sure finds, several species--many of

great rarity--being taken off this plant at night. Owing to the usual

localities in which ivy is found, the spread sheet and subsequent

"beating" come in more often than the safer method of "netting" and

"bottling."

Light is also a great attraction to many moths, some of our greatest

rarities being captured frequently, inside or outside street lamps,

and the spectacle is by no means rare to see a "grave and reverend

signor" climbing up the lamp-posts at a most unseemly hour of the

night in search of specimens. Lighthouses have also yielded important

captures, and there are worse things than being on friendly terms with

the cleaner of street lamps, or the keeper of a lighthouse. True, you

will get some awful rubbish, but the day will come when Alniaria or

Celerio (which latter I once received alive), or some other rarity,

will reward your faith. Light surfaces, such as white cloths or sheets

left out all night, sometimes attract moths.

SUGARING.--The great nostrum for capturing moths is--"Sugar!" A legend

tells that many years ago someone discovered (or imagined) that moths

came to an empty sugar cask, situate somewhere in a now-unknown land;

and acting as the Chinaman is said to have done, in re the roast

pork--thought perhaps that the virtue resided in the barrel, and

accordingly carted it off into the woods, and was rewarded by rarities

previously unknown. A sage subsequently conceived the grand idea that

the virtue resided in the sugar and not in the cask, and afterwards

came the idea of an improved "sugar," made as follows:

Coarse brown sugar (foots), 1 lb.

Porter (or ale), 1 gill.

Treacle (common), 0.25 lb.

Rum, a wineglassful or 0.5 quartern.

Mix together the sugar, treacle, and beer in a saucepan, and bring the

mixture to the boiling point, stirring it meanwhile. Put it in corked

bottles, and just before you wish to use it add the rum. Aniseed is

sometimes used as the flavouring medium. Honey is also substituted for

sugar, and sometimes the whole is mixed unboiled; but if the collector

will try the foregoing recipe, the result of many years' experience,

he will, I am sure, be thoroughly satisfied.

The entomologist having provided himself with a bottle of the

foregoing mixture, a tin pot to pour it into, and a brush to lay it on

with, the net figured at Fig. 46, the cyanide bottle, a collecting

box, and a lantern, is equipped for sugaring.

A special sugaring can may be made from a tin canister, to the rim of

which a sort of funnel has been soldered in such a manner as to

prevent any spilling of the contents, and to the lid of which a brush

has been affixed. The wood-cut (Fig. 51), will explain.

This is, however, but a "fad," intended to do what it never does--viz,

keep your fingers from sticking, and "your tongue from evil speaking"

about the "messiness" of the sugar.

Fig. 51--Sugaring can.

All seasons of the year (except when too great an abundance of a

favourite flower abounds) yield a certain percentage of moths

attracted by sugar. Mild nights in the depth of winter, or in very

early spring, sometimes afford rarities, and certainly many hybernated

common species. Warm, cloudy nights, with a little wind stirring, are

generally the most favourable; but one of the best nights I ever had

amongst the "Peach Blossoms" and "Buff Arches" (Thyatira batis and

derasa) was in a wood in Warwickshire, when the rain fell in torrents,

accompanied with fierce lightning and thunder, from about 11 p.m.

until 6 the next morning. On this night everything swarmed, a hundred

or more common things on one patch of sugar being of frequent

occurrence.

Moonlight nights are, as a rule, blank ones for the "sugarer"--(Do the

moths fly high to the light?)--but I once had a grand capture of many

specimens of the "sword-grass" (C. exoleta) on a bright moonlight and

very windy night in February; and Dr. Knaggs says that on one occasion

he met with night-flying moths literally swarming on a sugared fence

in a field once in his possession, whither, in the small hours, he had

taken a stroll with a friend on the brightest moonlight morning it was

ever his lot to behold.

Many nights which appear the most favourable will, on the contrary, be

unaccountably disappointing; not a single moth will make its

appearance. The presence of ground-fog, "honeydew," more attractive

flowers, or a coming change of wind or temperature (nothing caring to

stir in an east, north, or northeast wind) will sometimes account for

this.

"Showers, rain, thunderstorms, provided they are accompanied by

warmth, are," says Dr. Knaggs, "very favourable, and the catch during

these conditions of the atmosphere will generally repay the

inconvenience of a wet jacket. On one terrible night, when the

lightning was perfectly terrific, almost blinding even, though my

companion's eyes and mine were kept upon our work, an incredible

profusion of moths of various kinds were hustling one another for a

seat at the festive board, and continued thus to employ themselves

until a deluge of rain swept both sweets and moths away from their

positions. On another stormy night, I well remember having counted no

less than a hundred and fifty moths of several sorts and sizes

struggling for the possession of two small patches of sugar. Perhaps

the best condition of the air may be described as cloudy overhead, but

clear and free from ground-fog near the earth; and when this state of

things has been preceded by sultry weather, and a steady west, south,

or south-west wind is blowing at the time, the collector need not fear

the result, for he can hardly fail to be successful."

July is usually one of the very best months for sugaring, and, if

warm, what can be more charming than to select a fine night at this

season of the year and to spend it in the woods?

Just before dusk get your sugar painted on the trees, at about the

height of your chest, in long narrow strips, taking care not to let

any fall at the foot of the tree or amongst the adjacent bushes

(though I have sometimes done very well by sugaring low down near the

foot of the tree). Just as the nightjars and bats begin to fly you

will have finished the last tree of your round, and rapidly retracing

your steps to the first you will perhaps see a small moth, with wings

raised, rapidly flitting up and down your patch of sugar. This is most

probably the "Buff Arches," usually first to come; in fact, during the

summer months, it is perhaps as well to get the sugar on at eight

o'clock, as I have known this species, the "Peach Blossom" and the

"Crimson Underwings" (Catocala promissa and sponsa), to come on the

sugar in bright light while yet the last rays of the sun were lighting

the westward side of the tree-trunk, when all the rest lay in shadow.

Fig. 52--Impaler.

If you are not facile princeps at "bottling," do not attempt it with

the three or four species named above, but strike them with the net

o at nce, for they are the most skittish of noctuae, especially in

the early part of the evening. Striking down such insects with a

parchment-covered battledore, which Dr. Guard Knaggs considers inflicts

the least injury, or impaling them with a triangle of needles stuck in

cork, in the manner shown in Fig. 52, or even with a single darning

needle, has been recommended, but after a trial I have come to the

conclusion that such plans are clumsy in the extreme.

A little practice will enable the beginner to dispense even with the

net, which tends to "rub" such dashing or unquiet insects, and to

rapidly cover them with a large cyanide bottle, or, failing this, with

the instrument shown in Fig. 53, which is a combination of the "drum"

and cyanide bottle, and will be found very useful for skittish

insects. A, represents a cyanide bottle with no neck--a wine or

ginger-beer bottle cut down, by filing it around, and then tapping it

smartly, does very well on an emergency.

Fig. 53--Diaphragm bottle.

On this is fixed a tin cylinder, B, having a slot cut in at D, in

which a diaphragm, C, works, and is prevented from falling out by a

stud fixed to its inside, and from falling inside by the stud above C.

To use this, the bottom must be stopped with a cork, through which a

piece of stout wire is bolted, the wire to come up to, but just

underneath, the slot D, allowing the diaphragm to close. In action

this machine is worked thus: Supposing an insect is seen resting on a

flat surface, such as palings, a wall, or the trunk of a tree, you

having previously removed the cork and pulled the diaphragm out of the

slot to its full extent, take aim, as it were, at the insect with the

open mouth of B, and rapidly cover him with it. The moth, or what not,

as a matter of course, flies toward the light which is at the bottom

of the bottle, A; directly it has done so you push in the diaphragm,

which of course effectually bottles him up. Now enter the cork in the

mouth, B, and pull out the diaphragm again to allow the cork to pass

to its place in the mouth of the cyanide bottle, which stopping is of

course fatal to the insect.

Fig. 54--Sugaring drum.

The "sugaring drum" referred to is thus described and figured by Dr.

-Knaggs; and it will be seen that in its main principle it is similar

to my diaphragm bottle, sans cyanide:

"This is a hollow metal tube of two or three inches diameter, over one

end of which a piece of gauze has been strained, while at the other

end a valve, to open and shut the mouth, works in a transverse slit

(shown in Fig. 54). To use it we open the valve and deftly place the

mouth of the drum over the insect which, in nineteen cases out of

twenty, flies towards the gauze. We then seize the opportunity to

close the valve, and pushing the corked piston represented at the

right side of the figure against it, once more open the valve, and

force the capture up to the gauze, through which it may be pinned, and

the piston should then be withdrawn with the insect stuck upon it."