we are now considering. Butterflies and moths are among the most beautiful and most interesting of living creatures. The study of their life history is enchanting, and the creatures themselves are of such a size as to be conveniently handled and preserved, and withal occupy so little space that anyone with only moderate accommodation may possess a fairly typical collection.
Compare the work of the entomologist with that of one whose hobby is the study of mammals. The latter has to deal with large and cumbersome objects, a collection of which requires an enormous amount of space; and, unless he has the time and means to travel in foreign countries, he cannot get together a good typical collection of specimens representing his particular branch, for the few British mammals contain no representatives of several of the orders into which the class is divided.
Entomology is undoubtedly, par excellence, the study for youngsters. It is equally suited to the studious and to those of an adventurous turn of mind. It leads its follower into the bright sunshine and the flowery meadows; and with body and mind pleasantly occupied, the joy of living is deeply felt. The necessary apparatus can be made by anyone. No dangerous gun is required, and there are no precipitous rocks to scale. When the autumn flowers fade the year's work of the entomologist is not done, for the arranging of his cabinet and the demands of his living specimens keep him more or less actively engaged until the flowers of the following spring call both him and the insects he loves once more into the field. And so, season after season, and year after year, he finds himself engrossed in labours so fascinating that idleness – the curse of so many of our youths – is with him an impossibility.
I assume that the readers of this book have a desire to take up the study of one branch of entomology – that of butterflies and moths – in real earnest; that they intend not only to read about these interesting insects, but to know them. And there is only one way in which one may really get to know living creatures; that is by searching them out in their haunts, observing their growth and habits, and by an occasional close examination in order to become acquainted with their structure.
Hence I shall in this, the practical portion of the work, give such information as will assist the beginner in catching, preserving, rearing, breeding, and arranging the specimens that are to form his collection.
There was a time when we would try to capture a butterfly at rest on a flower by a quick sweep of the hand, or, more commonly, by a sharp downward stroke of the cap. We were led to this action by a mere childish love of sport, or by a desire to possess an insect simply because it was pretty. When we succeeded in securing our prize, we handled it somewhat carelessly, often passing it from one hand to the other, or boxing it in our closed and perspiring fist till our fingers were dusted with the pretty microscopic scales of the creature's wings, and the wings themselves, stripped of all their beautiful clothing, were merely transparent and veined membranes. Having thus carelessly but unintentionally deprived the creature of its greatest beauty, we set it free, often in such a damaged or exhausted condition that the poor thing could scarcely fly.
But our childish ideas and inclinations have vanished. Now we would rather watch the insect than catch it, for we find much pleasure and interest in its varied movements. And if for purposes of study we occasionally require to make one captive, we proceed in such a manner as to preserve its beauty unimpaired. The cap now gives place to a well-made and suitable net; and we are careful to provide ourselves with sufficient and proper accommodation for our captives.
It is probable that many of my readers are as yet unacquainted with the nature of an entomologist's requirements for field work, so we shall describe them, confining ourselves at first to those that are required for a butterfly hunt.
First and foremost comes the net. This essential portion of your equipment may be either purchased or constructed by yourself. Very little skill is required to enable you to do the former. Provided your pocket is well charged, you may start off at once to the dealer in naturalists' appliances, and treat yourself to a complete outfit. But even in this case a little advice may not be out of place. See that what you purchase is very strongly made. You can get nicely finished nets constructed on the most convenient principles, made to fold and go in an ordinary coat pocket, but with weak joints. See that you have the most convenient form of net by all means, but do not go in for convenience and appearance at the expense of strength and durability. Nothing is more annoying than to find your net give way just when you are in the midst of a good day's sport.
Fig. 39. – A Wire Frame for a Butterfly Net.
Fig. 40.
The folding net is certainly very convenient, for you can conceal it in your pocket while you are walking through town or travelling in a railway carriage, and thus avoid that contemptuous gaze which certain of the public are prone to cast on a poor 'bug hunter.' And although such nets are generally purchased, yet they may be constructed by anyone who has had experience in the working of metals. But other forms of nets, equally useful and even stronger, can be made by anybody; and I will give a few hints on two or three different ways of putting them together.
A very simple and strong frame for a net may be made as follows: Get a piece of stout iron or brass wire about forty inches in length, and bend it into a circle with the two ends, turned out about two inches each, at right angles to the circumference as shown in the accompanying sketch.
Now take a good tough stick, the length of an ordinary walking stick, and cut out two grooves opposite each other at the end, just large enough to take the straight ends of the wire. The end of the stick will now resemble fig. 40 in shape. Place the ends in their grooves, and bind them tightly to the stick by a good many turns of rather fine wire.
A frame well made after this fashion is as strong as anything you could desire, but it has the disadvantage of being always fixed to the handle, thus preventing the use of the latter as a walking stick when you are not directly engaged in your entomological work.
A much more convenient frame may be made by thrusting the ends of a piece of cane into the two narrow arms of a metal Y. You may purchase the Y at any of the naturalists' stores, or you can make one yourself if you know how to perform the operation of soldering. I have always made mine with odds and ends of brass tubing such as old gas pipes. One piece must be just the size to fix on the stick; and the other two must fit the cane tightly. The three pieces must be filed off at the proper angles, and the doubly bevelled end of the wider tube must then be flattened down to the width of the smaller ones before soldering. If you decide to buy one, give the preference to strong brass rather than the cheaper and more fragile ones made of tinned iron.
Fig. 41. The Metal Y.
The advantage of such an arrangement over the last frame is evident at once. The cane, with net attached, can be pulled out of the Y when not in use, and bent small enough to go in the pocket or a satchel; and the Y can also be separated from the stick, thus allowing the latter to be used as a walking stick.
Some entomologists speak very favourably of what is known as the 'umbrella net' – a large and light net that will shut up like an umbrella, and may even be made to look very much like this useful protector, but the possession of such an imitation is somewhat tantalising in a pelting shower. The ring of this net consists of two steel springs attached to a couple of brass hinges, one of which is fixed near one end of the handle, while the other slides up and down in the gamp fashion.
One other form of net – 'the clap net' – although still occasionally seen, has had its best days. Two sticks are provided to this one, so that the two sides of the net may be brought together on the insect; but as both hands are required to manage it, it is almost surprising that
