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unnecessary. Here a piece of ground in the highest and driest part of the field is first smoothed with a hoe, and then swept very clean. If the crop be small, it is threshed with a flail; if otherwise, horses are used to tread it out. We have seen from ten to fourteen on one floor. The corn is winnowed on the spot, by means of a sieve supported on poles, and the chaff burned forthwith.

'Harvest-home, as with us, is a time of universal merriment. It is generally celebrated with a dance, when cakes, called ciambelli, made of fine flour, oil, and honey; and others, called pizzi, made of barley, well salted, are distributed, with a good allowance of wine. If the harvest has been plentiful, a large sheaf is generally reserved for some favourite saint, as the offering of first-fruits among the Hebrews was corn beaten out of full ears (Levit. ii, 14). The reapers carry it along; the priest meets them, a prayer of dedication is said, the sheaf is placed before the altar. We had the pleasure of seeing the little church of Santa Maria delle Grazie so adorned; and whether it be the remain of pagan rites, or the natural expression of pious gratitude, acting alike under different laws and in different ages, we were too well pleased to inquire. We have seen the poor Hindoo place his cocoa-nut and his handful of rice before his household gods. We read of the elegant offerings of odorous flowers and fruits made by Catullus to the rural guardian of his vineyard; but none of these pleased us so much as the plentiful sheaf given by the Christian Polese to the Madonna delle Grazie.'

About the 11th of August, the puffin (alca arctica) migrates; and soon afterwards the swift disappears, probably winging its way to more southern regions. Young broods of goldfinches (fringilla carduelis) are now seen; lapwings (tringa vanellus) and linnets (fringilla linota) congregate; the nuthatch chatters.

At the beginning of August, melilot (trifolium officinale), rue (ruta graveolens), the water parsnip (sysimbrium nasturtium), horehound (marrubium vulgare), water-mint (mentha aquatica), the orpine (sedum telephium), and the gentiana amarella, have their flowers full blown. The purple blossoms of the meadow saffron (colchicum autumnale) now adorn the low, moist lands. The vinous infusion of its root forms a celebrated remedy for that excruciating malady, the gout; it has been also used with success in chronic rheumatism.

The geranium tribe now add to the beauty of the garden, and many pretty species also decorate our sunny banks: the malvaceous order, which abound with mucilage, and the spurges (euphorbia), with their acrid milky juices, bearing the seed always elevated on the flower, are seen in great variety. The genista or broom flowers in this month; and the common flax (linum usitatissimum), with its pretty pale blue flowers, while it is allowed to ornament the garden, reminds us of utility as well as beauty.-Nor must we forget to name the stately helianthus, at once majestic and faithful, the lion of flowers:

The dial tells no tale more true,

Than she his journal on her leaves,
When morn first gives him to her view,
Or night, that her of him bereaves,
(A dismal interregnum) bids
Her weeping eyes to close their lids.

Forsaken of his light, she pines
The cold, the dreary night away,

Till in the east the crimson signs
Betoken the great God of day;
Then, lifting up her drooping face,
She sheds around a golden grace.

O Nature, in all parts divine!

What moral sweets her leaves disclose!
Then in my verse her truth shall shine,
And be immortal as the rose,
Anacreon's plant: arise, thou flow'r,
That hast fidelity thy dow'r!

Apollo, on whose beams you gaze,

Has filled my breast with golden light;
And circled me with sacred rays,

To be a poet in his sight:

Then thus I give the crown to thee,
Whose impress is fidelity.

LORD THURLOW.

The nest of the harvest mouse (mus messorius) may now be found attached about midway to the straws of some vegetables in our corn-fields; they are very fond of fixing it to those of beans or peas, with which it sways backwards and forwards, when they are agitated by the wind: it is the only English mouse that elevates its nest above the ground; they are sometimes found in the shape of a pear with a long neck, at others round, the size of an orange, and may be seen with commonly eight young ones in them, as late as the middle of September: these little creatures so perfectly fill the nest, that no room seems left for the maternal visitor, yet in this crowded ball she suckles them with perfect ease.— This mouse is not an inhabitant of every county, but is not uncommon in dry situations: they are the least of all our quadrupeds, an old one generally weighing about 1 drachm 5 scruples, nor can any creature be more innocent and harmless: in winter they congregate under some dry bank, or take shelter beneath a bean or pea-stack in our farm-yards.

Insects still continue to swarm; they sport in the sun from flower to flower, from fruit to fruit, and

subsist themselves upon the superfluities of nature. It is very amusing to observe, in the bright sun of an August morning, the animation and delight of some of our lepidopterous tribes. That beautiful little blue butterfly (papilio argus) is then all life and activity, fluttering from flower to flower in the grass with remarkable vivacity: there seems to be at constant rivalship and contention between this beauty, and the not less elegant little beau papilio phlæas.See our last volume, p. 238, and T. T. for 1820, p. 205. Respecting the extraordinary increase of the helix virgata, and the pretended shower of snails, consult T. T. for 1822, pp. 238, 239.

The harvest-bug (acarus ricinus), in this and the following month, proves a very troublesome and disagreeable insect, particularly in some of the southern counties of England. The best cure for the bite is hartshorn. Flies now abound, and torment both men and animals with their perpetual buzzing.— Wasps also become very troublesome.- See our last volume, p. 240. Another unpleasant insect which abounds in August, is the tabanus pulvialis, sticking on the hands and legs, and, by piercing the skin with its proboscis, causing a painful inflammation. Cattle are severely exposed to its attacks.

For these temporary annoyances, however, we are in some measure compensated by the presence of the lady-bird, and the glow-worm', the first for its

To the GLOW-WORM.

While the bright colours slowly melt away,
That late the western clouds so richly dight,
And gradual darkness steals upon the light,
Through flow'ry vales and groves I love to stray,
And silent mark the glow-worm's kindling ray,
That mid the dunnest walks, and deepest glooms,
The long dank grass with greenish light illumes;
And glads the eye, and cheers the dusky way.
Though now it spread a radiance through its sphere,
'Twas pale by day, unheeded and unseen;

utility, and the second for the beautiful effect it pro-
duces. The lady-bird, or lady-cow, so often charged
with being the cause of blights in apple-trees, is, in
reality, the best remedy against that disease; as
both when perfect, or in its larve state, it feeds en-
tirely upon the aphis, a genus of which the blight in
question is a species: hence the lady-bird may be
frequently seen in the cankered spots of apple-trees;
not indeed sucking their nutritious juices, but de-
vouring the real enemy of the future hopes of the
orchard. In the hop-countries the lady-bird is not
less useful, as it is well known to destroy the blight
which does so much injury to that delicate plant.
Let us then, instead of destroying this beautiful in-
sect, greet our benefactor with a song: it is an ad-
dress to the lady-bird, from the German, of which
we have in England preserved only the second verse.
Lady-bird! Lady-bird! pretty one, stay,
Come sit on my finger, so happy and gay,

With me shall no mischief betide thee;
No harm would I do thee, no foeman is here,
I only would gaze on thy beauties so dear,
Those beautiful winglets beside thee.

Lady-bird! Lady-bird! fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children will roam,
List! list! to their cry and bewailing!
The pitiless spider is weaving their doom,
Then Lady-bird, Lady-bird, fly away home,

Hark! hark! to thy children's bewailing!

Fly back again, back again, Lady-bird dear;
Thy neighbours will merrily welcome thee here,
With them shall no peril attend thee;
They'll guard thee so safely from danger or care,
They'll gaze on thy beautiful winglets so fair,
They'll love thee, and ever befriend thee.

Thus humble Virtue oft may dim appear,
When gaudy Fortune spreads her dazzling sheen;
But in the gloom of drear Affliction's night,
While all is dark around, she shines in native light.

REV. J. BLACK.