LIVING WITH A BUTTERFLY
SIR,—Poor Pyramus! or rather Pyrameis, for what Mr. Campbell had was a doomed Pyrameis atalaina, a DP, a refugee from France. These beautiful crea- tures always overwinter as adults, often in homes, lofts and barns; in England few survive; those that do fly out hopefully into the Spring looking for a mate and some nettles and usually fall victims to sparrows looking for food for their brood.
The Red Admirals we see in summer have come in on the wind from France and some of the black caterpillars one sees on nettles have hatched from their eggs. Mr. Campbell's Pyrameis's behaviour was quite normal; it should have had six sturdy legs, perhaps two were tucked up and not seen. It is an example of the life force urging a species to extend its range. We are seeking to colonise space, Pyrameis to colonise England and neither of us being very successful so far.
Mr. Campbell might prolong his next Admiral's life by offering it honey and water on a bit of sponge, over-ripe pears or plums, or rotting wood (especially a piece bored by the goat moth) and watch it uncurl its long tongue and lick this up. To give it hope he might provide some nettles growing in a flower-pot. But really they haven't much chance: they arc the pioneers who must perish until the life force breeds up some strong enough to stand the journey and the climate and fleet enough to evade bur sparrows, then perhaps they will colonise us, destroy all our nettles and turn to what alternative? They have already tried hops.—Yours faithfully,
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