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The Carolinian Satyr (To the one who delves)
To the one who delves in butterfly literature it is apparent that the writers evince an interest which borders on affection for the meadowbrowns-a personal attitude not accorded to many species far more beautiful in color and in form. This sentiment is expressed first of all in a delightful nomenclature, which appeals to the imagination. Wood-nymphs, satyrs, graylings, and meadow-browns are the various names given to these butterflies whose dull-colored wings are diversified rather than ornamented with blackish eye-spots. Perhaps this favoritism is due to the interesting places where they are found; for they haunt the open woods and grassy glades and meadows that are fringed with forest mantle and fly aimlessly up and down peaceful bramblebordered lanes. Their flight Mr. Scudder aptly describes as of peaceful, wavering, dancing character, and not sustained. Their colors are so inconspicuous that they naturally seek protection in hiding rather than in strong flight.
The caterpillars feed only by night; they are sluggish, and trust to their coloring and form for protection. Their color resembles that of the food-plant; the body tapers smoothly from the middle toward each end, the forked tail lying close to the leaf or stem, making the insect seem to be a swollen portion of blade or stalk of grass or sedge rather than a thing apart.
The satyrs are everywhere on the globe where butterflies may live. They have some interesting habits similar to those of moths. A few species are known that pass the chrysalis stage in the ground in a cell made of earth and silk; and several species fly mostly in the twilight.
The interest which the wood-nymphs arouse in the nature lover is something that must be felt rather than described. It is safe to say that the degree of pleasure experienced by startling from its covert a low-flying grayling may be safely regarded as a measure of the height attained by the butterfly connoisseur.
Flusheth the rise with her purple favor, Gloweth the cleft with her golden ring. 'Twixt the two brown butterflies waver, Lightly settle, and sleepily swing.