“The ends of the upper wings terminate in a fine point, just as the leaves of many tropical shrubs and trees are pointed, while the lower wings are somewhat more obtuse, and are lengthened out into a short thick tail. Between these two points there runs a dark curved line, exactly representing the midrib of a leaf, and from this radiate on each side a few oblique marks, which well imitate the lateral veins. These marks are more clearly seen on the outer portion of the base of the wings and on the inner side toward the middle and apex, and they are produced by striae and markings which are very common in allied species, but which are here modified and strengthened so as to imitate more exactly the venation of a leaf. “The habit of the species is always to rest on a dead twig and among dead or dried leaves, and in this position, with the wings closely pressed together, their outline is exactly that of a moderately sized leaf, slightly curved or shrivelled. The tail of the hind wing forms a perfect stalk, and touches the stick while the insect is supported by the middle pair of legs, which are not noticed among the twigs and fibers that surround it. The head and antennae are drawn back between the wings, so as to be quite concealed, and there is a little notch hollowed out at the very base of the wings, which allows the head to be retracted sufficiently. All these varied details combine to produce a disguise that is so complete and marvellous as to astonish everyone who observes it; and the habits of the insects are such as to utilize all these peculiarities, and render them available in such a manner as to remove all doubt of the purpose of this singular case of mimicry, which is undoubtedly a protection to the insect. Its strong, swift flight is sufficient to save it from its enemies when on the wing, but if it were equally conspicuous when at rest, it could not long escape extinction owing to the attacks of the insectivorous birds and reptiles that abound in tropical forests.” IN AUTUMN. The waves come galloping up the shore, The trees are flinging their arms about. All night I have heard the wind’s loud roar, And the surf call back with angry shout. And after the wind a grieving rain Comes sighing and sobbing past my door, “The summer flowers I seek in vain, Is my work of love forever o’er?” One day ago and a soft sun shone, Butterflies flitted through quiet air, But now both they and the birds are gone And soon will the trees be stripped and bare. Though winds blow cold and the skies are gray, The sun of summer still shines for me, For naught can drive from my heart away, The memory of bird and flower and tree. Grace Wickham Curran. BEAUTIFUL VINES TO BE FOUND IN OUR WILD WOODS.