ibutes; their titles ranging from that of _Anax imperator_,
indicative of imperial sway, to epithets expressive of feminine
delicacy and ladylike grace, such as _virgo_, _puella_, _demoiselle_,
and _damsel-fly_, which are appropriated to the sylph-like forms that
many of them exhibit. In their habits, however, they by no means
deserve the gentle appellations bestowed upon them. They are, in
truth, the tigers of the insect world, and their whole lives are
devoted to bloodshed and rapine. Indomitable in their strength of
wing, furnished with tremendous jaws, and possessed of acuteness of
sight and rapidity of motion scarcely to be paralleled, there seems to
be no escape from their ferocity, and terrible is the slaughter they
effect amongst the insect legions they are appointed to destroy." It
must not, however, be supposed from the above description that the
dragon-flies are creatures that deserve to be killed. On the contrary,
they are most serviceable to men, and destroy countless numbers of
injurious flies and butterflies whose larvae do damage to vegetation.
"Well, papa," said Jack, "the boys in the village always kill them if
they can catch them, and say they sting horses." I know that this is a
popular tradition, inherited by the rural folks of our day from their
great-great-grandmothers' grandmothers. Dragon-flies are often called
_horse stingers_; in America they are sometimes called _devil's
darning-needles_; in Scotland, I believe, they are known by the name
of _flying adders_. Where is my net? I will try and catch a
demoiselle. There! I have her, or I should rather say _him_, for these
dark spots on the wings disclose the sex; the female has unspotted
wings, and is of a rich green colour. "How splendidly it shines in the
sun," said Willy; "nothing can exceed the beauty of its wings." Well,
now you have looked at him closely and admired him, I will let him go
again. Off he flies, none the worse for his temporary captivity. Now
for my friend the trout, who would not take my fly an hour ago. Ah! I
have got him the first throw; see how he jumps. Now, Willy, for the
landing-net. Bravo! all safe, and a good fish too. Our sport is over
for the day, and we must get ready to drive home. To-morrow, Willy,
you may learn these lines from Thomson's 'Seasons:'

"When with his lively ray the potent sun
Has pierced the stream and roused the finny race,
Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair;
Chief should