of the
earth. The sequel, however, was an invitation to visit their home in
North Wales for the Christmas holidays, where there was rough
shooting,--the only kind I really cared for,--boating, rock-climbing,
bathing, and the companionship of as lively a family as it was
possible to meet anywhere. Many a holiday afterwards we shared
together, and the kindness showered upon me I shall never be able to
forget, or, alas, return; for my dear friend "Mad G." has long ago
gone to his rest, and so have both his parents, whom I loved almost as
my own.

Another thing for which I have much to thank my parents is the
interest which they encouraged me to take in the collecting and study
of natural objects. We were taught that the only excuse that made the
taking of animal life honourable was for some useful purpose, like
food or study or self-preservation. Several cases of birds stuffed and
set up when we were fourteen and sixteen years of age still adorn the
old house. Every bit had to be done by ourselves, my brother making
the cases, and I the rock work and taxidermy. The hammering-up of
sandstone and granite; to cover the glue-soaked brown paper that we
moulded into rocks, satisfied my keenest instinct for making messes,
and only the patience of the old-time domestics would have "stood for
it." My brother specialized in birds' eggs, and I in butterflies and
moths. Later we added seaweeds, shells, and flowers. Some of our
collections have been dissipated; and though we have not a really
scientific acquaintance with either of these kingdoms, we acquired a
"hail-fellow-well-met" familiarity with all of them, which has
enlivened many a day in many parts of the world as we have journeyed
through life. Moreover, though purchased pictures have other values,
the old cases set on the walls of one's den bring back memories that
are the joy and solace of many idle moments later in life--each rarer
egg, each extra butterfly picturing some day or place of keen triumph,
otherwise long since forgotten. Here, for instance, is a convolvulus
hawk father found killed on a mountain in Switzerland; there an Apollo
I caught in the Pyrenees; here a "red burnet" with "five eyes"
captured as we raced through the bracken on Clifton Downs; and there
are "purple emperors" wired down to "meat" baits on the Surrey Downs.

Many a night at school have I stolen into the great forest, my
butterfly net under my coat, to try and add a new specimen to my
hoard.