On the 22nd of August, 1882, while entomologizing along the border of a wood at Oak Hill, New York, I was agreeably surprised by a call from a lady companion—an earnest devotee of the floral kingdom, who was but a few yards distant in the pursuit of her favorite study—that she had discovered something which she appeared to regard with that sort of honor which one might bestow on a venemous reptile. Knowing her dislike of all crawling things, I at once conjectured that the cause of the alarm was a spinous caterpillar, and that my attention, no, doubt, was being directed to that over which I at least would be enthusiastic. It proved to be the formidable looking larva of this moth, popularly known as the Hickory Horned Devil, and on account of its rarity, a goodly, and in no sense an evil sight to a naturalist. It was found feeding on the hickory. It burrowed a few inches into the earth on the 19th of September, to transform, and two days thereafter the pupa worked itself to the surface.