of one that was attacked and eaten by his pretty kindred, the wing-cases and head only remaining to testify of his former individuality. This is a delicate beetle, that requires very pure water and a neat arrangement of aquatic plants, to give full effect to its beauty as a cabinet specimen, and, when carefully preserved, a jar of them forms a conspicuous and attractive object. I have several specimens of a smaller species in a very fine jar of confervoids; they are incessantly in motion, threading their way through the interstices of the delicate vegetation in a business-like way, that seems to say, “I’m on an important errand—have not a moment to lose, and, above all things, I must take care of the bubble of air that sticks to my tail.”
Gyrinus Natator.—This is a member of an interesting and pretty family. Gyrinus takes its name from the tendency most of the beetles of the tribe have to move in circles, and this particular species exemplifies the habit of the tribe in a very striking manner. It is a very sociable beetle, always found in company with others of its kindred, forming little communities, which pass their time in whirling and spinning upon the surface of still pools, like congregations of dancing dervishes. They are as shy as they are nimble, and it requires some dexterity to net them, for they dive and scatter on the approach of a foot-step; but if the observer remains quiet a few minutes by the water’s edge, or on a plank or bridge above the pool, they soon resume their gambols under his eye, and in the sunshine appear like minute buttons of burnished metal rapidly revolving or darting to and fro upon the surface,