The Lady Bird visits the watering-places generally about June, and stops there till the winter. The first gale blows them back again to London, where they pass the foggy months in the various shops, theatres, and ball-rooms. When Tom Thumb was in town, an extraordinary flight of Lady Birds might be seen every day at the Egyptian Hall. THE MARINE APHIS VASTATOR. Very different to the Lady Bird is the _Aphis Vastator_, or commonly known as the _Sea-side Lodging-house keeper_. It is a most ravenous tribe, to be met with at all watering-places. It will eat through anything. It has consumed, before now, a week's provisions in a day. It is always seeking somebody to devour. These vastators, or rather devastators, live mostly on the poor Lady Birds, who suffer dreadfully from their depredations. A Lady Bird, who has taken a lodging in the morning, has repeatedly been eaten out of house and home before the evening, and been obliged to fly for safety. Nothing escapes the fangs of the Marine Lodging-house keeper. It will work its way into locked drawers, and runs through a tea-caddy with as much ease as if it had the key. It will clear a trunk in a day, and empty a work-box whilst the Lady Bird is taking a plunge in the sea. Its fangs are so constructed that they close directly on everything they touch; and their eyes are so sharp that they protrude into every letter and parcel that comes into the house. What they do not consume they hide; what they cannot hide they destroy or else give away; for the male _Devastator_ is just as nimble as the female, though he is rarely seen. He comes the last thing at night, and is off the first thing in the morning; walking off probably—for he has very long legs—with a coat, or a pair of trousers that was found lying about in your portmanteau. The _Aphis_ has generally a large brood of little _Aphises_, which she rears in the back kitchen. They all partake of their mother's nature. They crawl about the house in search of stockings and frocks, and from their small size can creep almost into anything. Their appetites, too, are almost superhuman. They will lift the lid of a rump-steak pie, which has been left on the landing-place, and, in less time than you can drink a glass of wine, they will have abstracted every bit of meat out of it. If they settle on a leg of mutton they will not leave it before they have picked it clean to the bone. In fact, their skill in polishing a bone would fill you with wonder, if nothing else. They shrink from no pastry; and the largest tart does not appal them. Their powers of suction, too, are just as great. A bottle is no sooner put upon the table than it is empty; and if there were twenty bottles they would go through every one of them, and the stronger the contents the easier the absorbing process seems to be! [Illustration: Evidence of the Marine Blight on a Leg of Mutton. ]