In this species of the genus Cicindela there are several very marked varieties, differing in the number, size and, manner of disposing of the markings on the elytra; while other less marked, yet distinct forms, coming between the more marked ones, constantly occur. Being struck with the considerable differences between the specimens I have collected of this species, it occurred to me that my observations on the subject might be of interest to some others; and with that view I give them.

Among a number of cocoons of the family of Bombycidæ collected on Long Island this autumn, I have one of P. cecropia of light weight. As the examination of this cocoon revealed conditions unknown to me, I have thought it desirable to make a record for your invaluable journal. The absence of the loose silk of a reddish hue which characterizes the appearance of the new made cocoon, indicated that it was a manufacture of the previous year. On opening it I found within a cocoon of O. macrurum, the parasite that commonly attacks the Potyphemus caterpillar. The parasite had emerged from its cocoon, as evidenced by the usual lid opening at one end, and had escaped into the outer air through the open passage that exists in the cocoon of the moth.

Argynnis Lais.

Male.—Expands 2 inches.

Upper side uniform bright red fulvous, slightly brown about bases of wings; the black markings all delicate; both wings bordered by a double line.

Under side of primaries pale cinnamon-red, buff in upper outer part of cell and from costa to first median nervule; a brown patch at apex and another before apex, on which are two silver spots; the upper submarginal spots silvered. Secondaries have the area from base to outside second row of spots yellow, mottled with dark brown; the belt beyond same spots clear yellow, the margin dark brown; all the spots well silvered, rather small, those of the discal and second rows slightly edged on upper side by black.

We do not intend in this article to allude to the troubles that the members of the insect world endure in their ordiuary every day life,—to their difficulties in getting out of their old clothes when nature bids them change their dress; nor to the risks they run from countless enemies, many-legged, four-legged, two-legged and no-legged,—nor yet to the labors some have to sustain in laying up their bread for a rainy season. Nor is our title intended as the text on which to found a disquisition on the sufferings thet the genus homo has to eudure (not at the hands, but at the mouths and tails of the insect hosts) ever since that sad day when old Noah, at the advice of Archangel Gabriel (who ought to have known better) broke his word to the serpent. All of course know the legend, yet as Lord Macaulay often did for his erudite school-boy, so will we do, and repeat and give the story of the origin of all venomous anthropophagus insects. We have it from the veracious Turk, so none but a Russophile or an anti-Jingoist will doubt it, and entomologists know neither country nor politics (whatever else they may know).