“How very much I should like to see some of these caterpillars, mamma!” said Agnes, “but no doubt I may some day, as I suppose if ever I find a caterpillar upon a nettle that this will be it.”
“You must not be too sure,” said Mrs. Merton, “for there is another caterpillar that feeds upon the nettle, which produces the peacock butterfly; but that caterpillar is black, with small white spots, and red hind legs. The caterpillars of the peacock butterfly, also, are found several together, while those of aldermen, are always solitary;—and there,” continued Mrs. Merton, interrupting herself as a butterfly flew past, “is another, whose caterpillar lives on the nettle. It is called the small Tortoise-shell, and it is extremely beautiful from the rich reddish-orange of its wings. This butterfly when it sits on a branch with its wings closed is not beautiful at all, as the inside of the wings is of a dusky brown; the caterpillar also is brown.”
“You should tell Agnes,” said Mr. Merton, “that it was from the golden hue of the pupa case of the small tortoise-shell butterfly, that the words chrysalis and aurelia have been applied to pupa cases generally. Both words signify golden, though the first is derived from the Greek, and the second from the Latin. Observe, also,” continued he, addressing Agnes, “that all the three nettle butterflies your mamma has just been telling you about, belong to the genus Vanessa.”
THE AZURE BLUE BUTTERFLY (_Polyommatus Argiolus_). ]
“But there is a butterfly of another genus,” said Mrs. Merton, “that is, the lovely little azure blue. Look, my dear,” continued she, addressing her husband, “it is just settled on that holly.”
Mr. Merton looked, and expressed his surprise as these butterflies are rarely seen so late in the season.
They now passed a very pretty villa, called St. Boniface, and very soon after they arrived at Bonchurch, which Agnes said she supposed was an abbreviation of St. Boniface. Just before they reached Bonchurch, however, they passed a curious stone called the Pulpit-rock, and the driver stopped, in order that some of the party might get out of the carriage, and climb up it. Mrs. Merton declined as she did not feel well; but Agnes was delighted to do so, as she was particularly fond of climbing; just as she got out of the carriage, however, her mother observed that a pretty little pink silk handkerchief, that she wore round her neck, was neither tied nor fastened by a pin.