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SufTice it to say the old trees near the front had 1)een spared, but trimmed high up to TBANSB^ORMED AND TRANSFERRED. 11 admit the sunlight to the chill stone walls ; a new porch guarded the threshold, instead of its tumble-down pre- decessor ; inside, the wainscoting had been repaired, walls neatly papered, and, finally, modern grates filled most of the wide chimney-places, a concession to the scarcity of wood and the abundance of coal. With warm carpets under foot, the household furniture in place, the pretty curtains at the square, small-paned windows, and the general air of coziness and home that filled all the house, like the odor of Mary's ointment, it was indeed a transformation. What eye could have seen through and beyond all the cheerlessness, disorder and dirt of the miserable farm-house that I looked at a month ago, the possibilities of so bright a home ? Whose heart had the cunning to devise, whose hands the deftness to bring about this change ? — whose but the dear housewife's, who beamed amidst it all with a face from which, for the hour, happiness and content had driven the anxiety that had stopped thereon too often during the last year ? Yes, the magic wand that had summoned back the exiled fairies of home was the touch of the New Mistress of the Old Farm. "A year of retirement and rest will restore his vigor and save him for the future." That was the ultimatum of Doctor Hayes. Promptly the mistress assented. The master yielded to the inevitable only after a long, hard struggle. Do you wonder ? An active life planted in a great city and come to the meridian of manhood, has many and strong roots. They run deeji, they branch widely, they 12 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. clasp and entwine tightly a nuillituile of persons, ob- jects, causes, plans. It is no light work to tear them up on sudden notice and transplant them to a rural home. But we have paid this penalty to over-work, and now for a year shall ivy the virtues of" vegetat- ing." To work in the field or sleep in the house ; to sit or walk or ride or recline ; to keep the mind pleasantly occupied and the body in the open air ; to drift on easily with time and chance, and to — wait ! Such is the life Avhich the Doctor bids me live. Well, a worse prescrip- tion perhaps might have been prepared. I shall take my medicine honestly, for, in sooth, one cannot — as with other doctors' nostrums that I wot of — throw this remedy out of the window. CHAPTER IT. RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. " We are not the only tenants of this Old Farm !" "Indeed!" said the mistress, resting the feather- brush a moment, for she was dusting the bric-a-brac upon our little parlor mantelpiece — "indeed ?" The first utterance was exclamatory, the second in- terrogatory, and the two together, taken with the glance cast at her spouse, expressed surprise, incred- ulity and inquisitiveness in due proportion and succes- sion. I stood at the open door, fencing out with my walk- ing-stick our watch-dog "Dolf," who was always in- clined to run into the forbidden precincts of the parlor. We were outfitted for a long walk, Dolf and I. " It is quite true," I said, solemnly ; " we are not the only tenants. There are a score — a hundred — in fact I know not how many races of inhabitants here, all to the manor born, and with a pedigree ante-dating William Penn and his charter, his treaties and his aboriginal treators. They are the real ' original inhabitants ' — the birds and beasts and flying-creeping things. I made the discovery yesterday. I am going to make the acquaintance of my fellow-tenants to-day. Good- b}^, my dear. Come, Dolf!" 13 14 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Wc walked out, leaving the mistress brushiug tin; mantelpiece, with a brightened look, for, thank God ! her spouse had found at last a congenial outdoor occupation. Not a new one, however, ])y an}- means. Months afterward I learned that in the conspiracy for my health between doctor and wife there had been strong reliance upon a revival of the early tastes and pursuits of a naturalist, which had been pushed to the wall by engrossing business, to tide over a crisis, send the invalid into the health-giving fields, and hold him there content during the interval of rest. "It was a happy moment indeed," the mistress said, " when the returning interest in your old studies, announced at our parlor door, showed me that the spirit of languor and decline had given back before a rising current of vitality. It was a I'ed-letter morning, that, in my life, and the rainbow of hope bent above the old form-house the livelong day." Meanwhile, quite unconscious of the little woman's secret joys, master and dog were tramping across the meadow toward the small stream that threads the farm known as Townes' Kun. The feathery grasses grew high along the banks ; clumps of tall reeds stood in the little basins like squads of grenadiers ; tufts of golden rod and wild asters, weeds and youngling bushes overhung the narrow channel. Yesterday I had found there, as I had carelessly strode on, the snare of a friend of other days, the Bank Argiope — Argiopc riitarm. I stooped to look and admire the comel}' spider hanging upon her white central shield. (Fig. 1.) FIG. 1— AUGIOPE AND SNAKE. 1.5 IG TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. You do not believe, perhaps, in tlie sudden birtli of a soul into a new passion, or its sudden palingenesis — its i-ebirth — into an old love and life ? Nevertheless, as I kneeled in the grass before that web of silken threads, brought out in detail against the background of a black slouch hat held behind it, the old passion came back as with a Ijound, and seated itself in my heart. Mam^ years before this, during a brief enforced idleness, in a moment like the present, when the body was drifting deviously before an aimless wind, a similar vision had awakened, as by a new birth, the first special love of a naturalist. Memory now recalled vividly the whole outward details of that scene, indeed my very thoughts and feelings. "Was it merely a trick of mental associa- tion? "When forests of black-jack oak succeed burned pines on a Jersey barren, and chestnut groves follow a spruce-clearing in the Alleghanies, botanists suggest that it is simply a return to an earlier state, permitted by a removal of the restraining conditions. Do old mental moods, long buried under other courses ot thought and emotion, spring up in full foi-ce again when overlying habits are set aside ? But this is a digression into the field of philosophy. "We return to our meadow and the Bank Argiope. She is among the most beautiful of our native spiders, and is our largest species of orbweavers, Avitli the ex- ception of the Plumefoot Nephila {NepliUa phmiipes) of the far Southern states. She is quite continental in her lialiitat, as I have traced her westward through Michigan. lUinois, Wisconsin, Neltraska, Id tlu' llocky RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 17 Mountains, northward to Vermont, and southward as far as Texas and Florida, She has adapted herself to the widely-separated conditions of this immense terri- tory without any perceptible variation in form or habit. Let me describe her : her cephalothorax (united head and chest, or head-thorax) is robed in a beautiful silver-drab, so that thus far she has adopted the tradi- tional color of the Society of Friends. But in the rest of her body she is not so orthodox, for the abdomen is beautifully marked with black, yellow and brown. Her eight legs are dark orange, ringed with brown and black. She has no fixed popular name, although I have heard her called the large meadow^ spider. She belongs to the group known as orbweavers {Orhitelarke), because of the wheel-shaped geometric snare which they spin. There is a peculiarity in her snare, as it is generally formed, which at once marks it. In the centre, or hull, is woven a thick white silken oval patch, from the top ot which extends upward a ribbon of like material. From beneath runs downward a zigzag cord, which resembles more closely than anything I know in natural spinning- work, the "winding-stair" up which the unhappy fly was "dragged into the dismal den," according to the plaintive school-book classic of the " Spider and the Fly." Argiope loves such sites as the reedy banks of Townes' Run, and one will often see her web swnuig among the tall grasses and bushes, while the occupant hangs head downward upon her central shield. I had unfolded a light camp-stool and was seated con- tentedly sketching this pretty object when alight tread ,-:j RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 19 was heard iu the grass, and a woman's voice sahited me. Al)by Bradford is a bright New England girl, of good family, good education, good manners, and good looks withal. She had held a position under the govern- ment in Glen Mills, just beyond, where the paper used m national bank notes had been made. "When that most convenient medium of exchange, the fractional currency, was so unwisely abolished, Abby's occupa- tion was gone, but an engagement to teach Highwood district school recalled her from her Massachusetts home. After the fashion of the country-side, she must find a home in one of the rural families, and very gladly wife had welcomed her to the Old Farm. Iler presence would relieve the solitude of our counti-y-place, which was our advantage ; and a kindly home with congenial friends was hers. We shall know her better by-and-by, but I may say here that w-e had cause often to con- gratulate ourselves upon the good fortune that brought the school-mistress into our family. "What!" she said, when we had exchanged greet- mgs, "ai'eyou sketching? I did not know that you were an artist." "I am not an artist," I answered; "but necessity has forced upon me a little rude skill with the pencil. Will you see my work V" I gave her the note-book, and pointed to my subject hanging among the golden rods and grasses at our feet. "A spider ? Oh, the ugly creature !" The young lady stepped backward a pace with this characteristic exclamation. As though to resent the 20 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. insult put upon her, the Bank Argiope began to shake her shield, commencing slowly, and waxing faster and faster in her movements until the whole web w^as in violent oscillation. " See !" I said, "You have wounded the creature's vanity, or, at least, you have awakened her fears. Wait until she has quieted, then look closely and see if either her person or work is worthy of so harsh a criticism. There, the web is still now — what say you ?" "I do declare,'' answered the honest maiden, ", it isiVt so ugly after all, and the net is really a work of art. Certainly, I should know better than to speak lightly of any of Nature's children ; but then, you know, spiders do seem an exception. Everybody fears and dislikes them." "Yes, you doubtless speak for your race. There is perhaps no creature with which man is intimately asso- ciated that has come in for a larger share of aversion than our humble friend Arachne. Like most human prejudices, this is an undeserved and unreasonable feel- ing. The spider is a true philanthropist. She is, with- out reservation, a friend to our race, destroying noxious insects by myriads, and making in return no impost or levy upon oui orchards, vineyards, cupboards or cellars. She is not the only example of unrewarded merit — of an ill name earned by a supposed ugly visage ; in short, of a prophet without honor in his own country. Spiders are not all so very ugly, either, as you have con- fessed. The fact is they have been deteriorated by too close contact with luan. The house and cellar spi- FIG. 3. — COCOON OF ARGIOPE KIPAKIA. 21 22 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ders, the occupants of our own homes, with which we oftenest meet, are precisely the ones least at- tractive to our eyes. If you will take the pains to search the flowers and shrubs, forests and ferns, you shall fmd (hat there are spiders with as fair an exterior, in point of color, at least, as more favorite animals. Even birds, be it remembered, have their buzzards and vultures ; and at all events, as long as ladies will insist upon shuddering at sight of the most beautiful animal in creation — the serpent — we may feel justilied in disre- garding their prejudice against poor Arachne. How- ever, when you know her better, I am sure you will like her more." "Mr. Mayfield," cried Abby, '' I must protest now ! Surely j^ou are not in earnest when you call the serpent beautiful ? I might come over to your opinion as to spiders and insects, but — snakes I Ugh !'' "What is this?'' Tasked, touching a spiral bracelet upon her wrist. " A mimic silver serpent ! And this ?" I added, lifting the links of a gold watch-chain, coiled at her waistband. "And this?'" pointing to coils of brown hair upon the back of her head. " Here is your own witness that serpentine forms, at least, are not lacking in beauty. Ladies do not decorate their persons with ugly things." The play of mind upon Abby's face was a pleasant study as she followed these sentiments, evidently quite now and startling. The mantling ciieeks and kindled iirown eyes betrayed tiie mixed nature of her fi'elings— the pleased surprise of novel thought ; the confusion FKJ. 4.— A I5KOOU OF SPIDEltLIXGii 0> X /TIIEIIS FIKST OUTING. 23 24 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. of a mind detecting itself in error— doubt and keen in- quiry, as though the latent sophistry of my remarks were suspected but not seen. I followed up my advan- tage. " Cast your eye along this little stream as it skirts yonder hill-side and pursues its winding course across the niradow. Has it not taken upon itself the external and formal limitations of your ' ugly snake '? If a poet were to speak of it as 'crawling,' or of its ' serpentine way,' would he not be borrowing terms from the snake's natural action to express his idea of beautiful foi'm and motion ? The progress of a serpent over the ground or through the water is the very ideal of free, graceful movement. Then, as to its anatomy — but, come, I must not be too fierce an iconoclast, or I shall cause a reaction in your thoughts against my animal friends, and quite spoil any good effect that I may have wrought in their behalf. This is your Saturday holida}' ; can you join me for one hour in a morning stroll along the run ? I promise you some new and I hope agreeable acquaintances." FIG. 5. — SPIDERS AT CAPE MAY. 85 CHAPTER III. THE TEXANTS PKEPARING FOR WINTER. '^ Stop ! Look into this clump of grasses and tell me what you see." '• I see nothing of special interest," said the school- mistress. " The bearded heads of the grass have been twisted together by some passing animal, I suppose, but that is all. Ah, no! I see now. Here is a beautiful little pear-shaped nest hung among the foliage. I have seen similar ones in New England, though I am sure I cannot guess wRat it is unless it be the cocoon of a cater- pillar." "Xo, it is the egg-sac, or, as it is technically called (althougii somewhat loosely), the ' cocoon ' of our Bank Argiope. It has evidently just been made ; we shall find the mother near by. Ah, here she is ! Alarmed by our approach she has liidden among these leaves. Ob- serve how the abdomen has shrunken as compared with the specimen Ave first saw, who was distended with eggs, which, by-and-by, she will dispose of in a like cocoon. Excuse me a moment ; I must capture this little mother before telling more of her story." Taking a paper box from my satchel I opened it, placed the two parts on opposite sides of the spider, gently approximated them until the body was inside, 26 ^ THE TENANTS PREPABINO FOR WINTER. 21 lightly pressed the struggling legs until they too were pulled within, then closed the box and put it in my pocket (Fig. 6.) f. FIG. 6. — "collecting a specimen." "Isn't that cruel?" abruptly asked my companion, who had watched the process of "collecting a speci- men " with curious eye. " Cruel ? ^0. I should be sorry to give needless pain to any creature ; nor do I feel entitled to use my lordship over the life of the humblest insect except for a sutficient and benevolent end. As a priest in the temple of IN^ature I may dedicate this victim to Science. I shall see that she has a painless death. Moreover, her days are already numbered by the irrevocable decree of N'ature ; after the spinning of a cocoon the mother- spider hangs u,pon it or near it for a few days, and then dies." " I have noticed," remarked Abby, plainly not quite satisfied that I had made out a good case, but willins; to 88 THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR WINTER. 29 change the subject, " that spiders are nearly always found alone. Do they never go in pairs or groups ?" " In a few species the male and female dwell together ", you will sometimes see broods of younglings massed to- gether in little balls, or seated on their webs in little clusters (Fig. 4) ; you will even see large colonies of adults as on the boat-houses of Atlantic City and Cape May — each on an independent web, however (Fig. 5). But as a rule Arachne, in her social habits, is the very opposite of the social ants, bees and wasps. She is a solitary body, and welcomes all visitors as the famous Buck- eye wagoner, Tom Corwin, advised the Mexicans to welcome our invading army, ' with bloody hands to hos- pitable graves. ' Nevertheless the maternal instinct is quite as strong within her as in any other animal. "Here, now, is our Argiope's cocoon. See what a pretty shelter-tent has been made by lashing these plants together (Fig. 3). Guy ropes of silk are attached to the cocoon at various points over the surface, and at the opposite ends fastened to the foliage. Thus the tiny basket swings secure amidst the most rigorous winter storm. Our mother-spider, indeed, might sing over her cradle the famous nvirsery rhyme : " ' Rock-a-by, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock.' •' However, there would be little likelihood in her case of such a melancholy conclusion as the lullaby has : " ' When the bough bends the cradle will fall, And down comes cradle, baby and all !' " You have doubtless heard of Indian wicker-work 30 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. water-vessels, I have seen a large woven l)owl in which meats were boiled, the water having been heated by hot stones. They were perfectly water-tight. Tliat is an admirable example of ingenuity in weaving ; but Bank Argiope has approached it. The outside of her cocoon is usually tough and glazed, and effectually repels moist- ure. I have opened many and never found the slightest evidence that rain or snow or sleet had made an entrance. It is a strong case of forecast, certainly, although I am not prepared to say that the forecast abides in the brain- cells of the mother aranead. At all events, mother-love has met the difficulties as if they had been antici- pated." " Perhaps," suggested Abby reverently, "we are here on the track of an infinite forecast ? How is the in- terior of the egg-sac furnished ?" " Suppose we look. We may devote this example to science and dissect it. As I open it Avith my knife, thus, you observe that the glaze lies upon the surface of a soft, yellow, silken plush, the whole forming the outer wall. Within that there is a mass of purple silk floss — raw silk, you might say — which evidently acts as a blanket- ing to the egg mass within. The eggs are yellow globules, sometimes several hundred in number, deposited under- neath a plate-like cushion, and swathed with a white silken sheet. Thus the young spiderlings are snugly blanketed and tucked away aw'aiting their deliverance from the nursery at the coming of spring." "But does the mother leave the little fellows there without any provison for them ?" THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR WINTER. 31 " Well, a spider, unlike true insects, does not undergo transformation from a worm, through the chrysalid to the imago. It hatches out like a bird, and has no need to have stored within its cell a supply of nutrition as with voracious grubs. It can wait until its exode, when it is able to spin its own web and provide for its own larder. Therefore, the mother shows a true forecast of the situation and wants of her offspring when she fails to store food within the cocoon. Besides, there is a suspicion — though I am not prepared to affirm it — that the little ogres eat each other up, as necessity requires, an exigency of spider infancy which is provided for or against in the great number of eggs laid and young hatched out." " Dear me, what a situation that for the baby spider- lings ! To be shut within those inexorable walls and wait until one's turn comes to be served for dinner to one's sister or brother ! It is to be hoped that Nature has kindly made the little fellows unconscious of their destiny. However, if one half is true that I hear of this human brotherhood of ours, it is not so very unlike the spider's baby-house. The big brothers eat the little ones, and the monopolies swallow all!" "What! so young and already a cynic? But you mustn't let your moralizing blind your eyes to the facts of life all around you. Look into that bush that you are passing. I see there one of my special friends whom I want you to know. Do you find her ?" "You mean this pretty little cobweb? But it is small and delicately wrought, and half hidden among TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. PIG. 8. — SNARE AND EGG-SACS OF CAUDATA. the leaves. How could you see it from where you stand, eight or ten feet distant ?" (Fig. 8.) " Nothing marvelous in that, I caught the sheen ol the white web in the sunlight which fell upon it just at the right angle, and a glance was enough for recogni- tion. There is a multitude of spider webs that are re- vealed only tlms, or on a dewy morning by the drops ol moisture entangled in them. Let me show you how I FIG. 9.— CAUDATa's CoCUO^b, VVITU SC'ALPAGl 53 34 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. recognized the species. Observe tliat a pcgment of the web is quite cut out at the top, through the centre of which a thick line is stretched. This peculiarity is caused by tlie little moihar [Cuftophor a caudata) \;\\(ii\ she begins making her cocoons. She cuts out the spirals, as you see, and in the clear space hangs a straw-colored, pear-shaped cocoon, no larger than a pea. At first it is a clean silken sac, but as the mother preys upon the small insects that fall into her snare, instead of casting out the dry shells, as is common, she hangs them upon her cocoon, which is soon decorated with gauze wings, shining black heads and bodies (Fig. 9) until the origi- nal color quite disappears. By-and-by a second cocoon is added ; a third and a fourth follow, and I once found a string of eight. Each cocoon is treated in the same manner, until, like a genuine savage of the (jenits homo, the tiny Amazon has decorated her home and her balnes' homes with the scalps of her victims. Ilei'c she hangs on the hub of her snare, holding on to the lower part of her precious string of beads witli a little white ribbon woven into the net beneath her. It was this ' scalpage' that enabled me to know my small acquaintance so readily." Leaving our aboriginal Caudata undisturbed in her wigwam to the full enjoyment of her cradles and scalps, we resumed our walk. Finding myself presently alone I turned and saw Abb}' intently peering into a pyramid of grasses which I had almost trodden under foot. " Here is surely something of value," she cried. "At first 1 thought it was an egg-nest of Bank Argiope, but FIG. 10.— EGG-SAC OF THE BANDEO ARGJOPI 36 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. it 18 (luite dillbivnl whe'u I look closely. Maj^bc it is the work of a young mother ? Ah ! I see by your smile that I have blundered." "I was thinking of your last remark ; and, after all, when I reflect, it is not so unnatural a conclusion. There is Caudata, who, after having made half a dozen cocoons, might be considered an 'experienced' mother. But Argiope never makes but one. Her maternal love and energy center upon that single work, and then she dies. But upon the discovery itself I must congratu- late you ; it is a noble find — the cocoon of the Banded Argiope {Argiope fasciatu) — which I have never met but once. And now, with a boast of clear-sightedness fresh upon my tongue, I have fairly run over this rare speci- men 1 Well, it is not the first time that I have had illustration of the old adage : " ' A raw recruit, Perchance, may shoot Great Bonapakte !' You have pi-oved jourself an apt recruit in the entomo- logical field, and have done good service. You have shown a true eye also, for this is not the egg-nest of Biparia, but of one of her congeners, the Banded Ar- giope (Fig. 10). Here she lies, or hangs rather, holdiug even in dealh, to the frail hammock of a few lines spun against the dry grasses. She is a beautiful creature, covered with a glossy silver-white fur coat, with bands of black and yellow across the abdomen, from which she gets her name. How fortunate ! here is another snare, spun in the weeds ut the edge of the run !" THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR WINTER. B7 FIG. 11.— SNARE OF AltGIOPE FASCIATA. "And here is a third," echoed Abby, "with the spider hanging at the centre." " Good ! Now we can study the web, which is a very pretty object." (Fig. 11.) " It is quite hke the snare of Bank Argiope, I think — mine is at least ; but yours, how daintily the central part lias been decorated ! Why is that ?" TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. UEC'OKATION OF FASCIATA. '' I oanuot speak with certainty. Tliis snare, as you remarked, resembles that of Riparia, although the cen- tral shield is rarely so prominent, and the ' winding stair ' is less frequent. The decorations of w^hich you speak ai*e more geuerall}'^ found on Fasciata's nest. They are semi-circular, zigzag ribbons and cords of silk spun in pairs or triplets on either side of the hub. Some- times they go quite around it (Fig. 12). They certainly give the snare a dainty appearance, but I imagine they are not for decoration — as the scalpage of Caudata really seems to be — but to strengthen the snare, and per- haps to form a sort of barricade to protect the owner from assault of enemies. I must collect this cocoon before we go further ; it may be long before I meet another specimen. There, dead tnother and her future progeny arc safely boxed, and we may walk on. CHAPTER IV. WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. The stream at this point entered the sdge of the wood, cutting its way through by a glen or ravine, on one side of wliich the land rose gradually, on the other rather abruptly. Both sides were covered with bushes and a young growth of trees, whose branches spread above the run, forming in summer time a dense shade, within which and the shadow of the rocks that jutted into the stream grew numbers of tall ferns. " On the skirts of this wood," I said, " we should find cocoons and crysalids of the Lepidoptera — moths and butterflies — in abundance. Let us search these young oak trees. I dare say we shall see something interest- ing," I had already caught a view of several of the objects for which we were now looking — the winter tenants of our trees^jut waited for my companion to observe for herself. Tliere is a special pleasure in the consciousness of original discovery, and a sense of per- sonal proprietorship which adds much to the interest with which the mind regards things. One's own find- ings are, therefore, the most fruitful in thought, acd the best texts for instruction. I had not long to wait ; Abby's mind was quite intent upon the search, and soon 39 a,. r^, lAfi >^~' V- O 40 WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 41 / /, FIG. 13 &. — LARVA OF POLYPHEMUS MOTH. lier keen eyes discerned the forms of several cocoons pendant among the branches of an oak. "I have them !" she cried. "Curious things they are, to be sui'e, and a curious story, no doubt, you have to tell about them." "Curious, certainly, to those who have thought little of such things ; and yet it is only a small chap- ter of a great book that lies open everywhere — open, but unread. Such things as I have to tell are curious only because people have not looked into the commonest facts around them. This is the cocoon of the Polyphe- mus moth (Fig. 1.3c). You observe how snugly the leaves have been tucked around it. Teor them away and there appears a yellowish, oval, silken case, inside of which the pupa is stowed. The thread of which this 43 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. cocoon is spun is continu- ous, and easily unwound like that of the ordinary silk moth, Bomhyx mori. It has a rich gloss, and high hopes have been entertained that it could find extensive use in commerce. A New England gentleman suc- ceeded in rearing the in- sects in large numbers, so as to obtain wagon loads of cocoons. His ' plant ' pre- sented a truly animated ap- pearance, with not less than a million worms feeding in the open air on bushes cov- ered with a net." "A sight more attractive to the entomologist, or silk-grower, I should think, than to the general public," remarked Abbj-, " Very likely, but I have observed that a dollar dis- cerned in the distance has a wonderful efllect in bright- ening even a vista of caterpillars. Prospect of cash converts unreasonable sensibilities quite as quickly as a naturalist's enthusiasm. However, the general public has a deep interest in everything relating to silk culture, for although it may l)e a ' disgusting ' fact to some minds, yet it is a fact that we owe our most beautiful habiliments to the labor, pains, and eventually the FIG 13 C. — COCOON OF POLY- PHEMUS MOTH. WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 43 sacrificed life of tlie despised silk-worm. The larva of our Polyphemus moth is thick, fleshy, striped obliquely with white on the sides, with angulated segments or 'joints,' ou which are tubercles surmounted by a few soft hairs. They are hatched about the close of June from eggs laid singly by the mother moth on the under sides of leaves. Ten or twelve days intervene between the deposit of the eggs and the hatching of the larva. " Then begins the feeding, which is not a simple eat- ing, but a storing of food that must sustain nature during the long winter sleep, and in some cases, as with Cecropia, for example, during the life of the perfect in- sect when it has transformed. Not only that, but it must take in enough to supply the curious natural workshop within it with the crude material from which comes the silken fibre that turnishes its winter home. Those are busy days, therefore, for the 3'oung worm during the long svnnmer. " But it has periods of rest from its voracious eating. Late in the afternoon of a summer day, if you would peep among the leafy barricades of these oak-boughs, you might see our worm undergoing the tedious process of shedding its own clothes, or moulting. As the grub grows, the outer skin tightens and hardens ; since it cannot yield, and as the creature must grow while it eats, the only thing to be done is to get rid of the im- pediment. Therefore Dame Nature, like a careful nurse, strips the young Polyphemus and puts it aside to rest awhile. " Somethiuij analogous occiirs to the human intellect 44 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. from time to time, althougli ' Bourbons " and ' old fogies' are said to be exempt from the process of moulting. On the other hand, there are some men who have such marvelous facility at making an intellectual moult, that one hardly knows where to find them on great questions. "Our Polyphemus grub is content with five moults, ten days intervening between the first four, and twenty between the last two. During the intervals it resumes the serious duty of life — eating." " How many leaves can one larva eat ? " asked Abby. "It seems to me you must exaggerate its voracity, or its ravages would be more noticeable. Surely, the little creature within this case couldn't have been very for- midable as a gourmand." " Have you ever ol)served one at its meals ? No ? AV'ell, then, you have something yet to learn as to the l)roportions of a healthy appetite. The hungry ' small boy ' is hardly to be named for gastronomic practice beside our Polyphemus. Mr. Trouvelot, a Massachu- setts observer, has determined that a grub fifty-six days old has attained 4140 times its original weight, a progress in avoirdupois which implies a corresponding vigor in table-fare. Or, to put it in another way, a full-grown larva has consumed not less than one hun- dred and twenty oak-leaves, weighing three-fourths of a pound, liesides the water which it has drunk. Thus the food w liicli it has taken in fifty-six d;iys equals in weight eii/liti/six tliousand ibuci the primitive weight of the worm ! You may imagine the destruction of leaves WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 45 PIG. 14. — DAME NATURE STRIPS YOUNG POLYPHEMUS FOR REST. which this single species of insect could make if onlj^ a hundredth part of the eggs came to maturity. A few years would suffice for the propagation of a number large enough to devour all the leaves of our forests." "But you have not told me yet how the caterpillar eats itself within this cocoon. I feel very much as the somewhat undex'-wise and stuttering King of England, George II., is said to have felt when he first saw an apple-dumpling. ' P-p-pray, wh-wh-where, where got the apple in ?' How got tlie pupa inside this case ?" 46 TK^AM'S OF AN OLD FARM. "You understand, of course," I replied, ''that this hard and apparently lifeless object (Fig. 15) which we call a pupa did nothing to inclose itself. The larva 'got' itself 'in,' and then be- came a pupa. A few days be- fore it had been seized by a strange restlessness ; it wandered about uneasily ; it refused to eat. What vision of its coming change had iS^ature given the worm ? I believe human beings also are sometimes impressed in some such way before great crises. I have myself experienced, on the approach of such occasions, those indefinable, restless sensations which the moth larva seems to exhibit. Its first step toward forming a cocoon, after a site had been chosen, was to wrap the stem, as you see here, and lash it to the twig above. Then, sinking to this point, it gradually drew around it the adjacent leaves, making a tin\^ arbor or ci'll, which you observe is the framework of the cocoon. "Within this it began to spin, drawing its silken threads from point to point as it moved around the cell. Layer succeeded layer, each overlapping its predecessor, until the grub was quite shut in, and. iMially, this silken case was completed. It then ceased work, and, yielding to the strange drowsy spell which Nature casts upon its kind, it fell into this FIG. 1.5. — PUPA OF POLYPHEMUS. WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 47 pupal state, wherein it will remain nntil late in May or early June next, wlien it will emerge as a perfect insect." "Well, well," exclaimed Abby ; "it is an ' oft told tale,' but it seems more wonderful to me to-day than ever before. Of course it is a ridiculous fancy ; but do you know I can't help Avondering if the moth knows itself when it emerges ! I mean, does it have any recollection of its larval and pupal estate ? What do you think ? It's a foolish notion, I daresay !" "Not at all; others have had the same thought. But who can say ? Perhaps when im have passed through some such transformation, we may have more light on this and other of Nature's mysteries ; but until then we must be content to guess at the possible expe- rience of a moth. All we can say is that the mother insect always comes to the tree, whether oak or maple, on which it was reared as a larva to deposit her eggs. Possibly the ghost of a faint impression of the acrid flavor of oak-leaf may haunt the pairs of nervous ganglia that serve for brains in a Polyphemus, and so may urge the creature to haunt its larval resorts. One would think, however, that all sense of its old person- ality had been buried and left in this pupal sarcopha- gus. But then, again, who knows ? We might as well call the mental processes of both grub and imago instinct, and pass on." "I have another question," said the schoolma'am. "You see I am moved by lii^ ancestral traditions, if the moth is not, and ask questions like a genuine WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 49 Yankee. Where are the spinning organs of the hirva ? The spider has hers, I know, at the apex of the abdomen, in several little nianunals or spinnerets. How is it with the caterpillar?" " The position of tlie spinning organs is precisely reversed in the silk-worm. The silk glands consist of two long, flexnons, thick-walled sacs situated on the sides of the body, and opening by a common orifice on the under-lip, or laljium, usually at the end of a short tubular protuberance. They are most developed just when they are most needed — when the larva approaches the pupa state. And now, suppose we dismiss our Polyphemus and turn to others quite as " " There, excuse me ; you have reminded me of some- thing I wanted to ask. Why is this moth called ' Poly- phemus ?' Is it such a horrible one-eyed ogre as the giant who handled so roughly the great Ulysses and his companions V' "I am afraid that I cannot fully satisfy you until we return to the house and show you a figure of the insect — possibly not then, for scientific names are not always readily accounted for. But we shall have better oppor- tunity by-and-bj', as we walk homeward, to tallc over this matter of scientific names. Meanwhile, let us ex- amine these elder-bushes along the fence-side. I hope to find an old friend — ah, there you have it, I see. It is the Cecropia moth — Platysamia cecropia. It has nearly the same habits as the Polyphemus ; indeed, the story of that insect's life will stand, with a few varia- tions, for all. Elder, willow and maple are the favorite 50 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. food-trees of Cecropia — in our neighborhood, at least. There is a clump of young spicewood trees, and yondei are some sassafras saplings. Let us examine them. What have you found ?" "• Here is a cluster of seven or eight hanging neai together ! They are long, tapering cocoons, prettily rolled in leaves and bound to the twigs by beautifully wrapped silk. See, in this one the coil extends several inches up the stem and around the twig. What is the use of all this precaution ? Wouldn't the insects come out on the ground quite as well ? Indeed, I should think that it would be colder up there exposed to wind, rain, hail, snow, and frost, than down among the dr}- grass and leaves." '' The question of temperature hasn't so much to do with the matter, I imagine ; the pupre stand an intense degree of cold, even those of the butterflies (Fig, 17) which are usually naked. These have been kept in an ice-house for two years, and when removed to a warm place came out all right. Cold and damp weather retards the process of transformation ; but the cocoons do well enough on the ground where they fall, as many do ; although, on the whole, I think they are better on the pj^, 17.— pupa of branches, certainly thev are safe there nuTTERFLv va- ' -^ ~ NESSA. from the trampling feet of cattle." However, there are, no doubt, wise reasons for what you iiave aptly styled all this precaution, some of which WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 51 I can suggest. For one thing, cocoons temper the rapid changes in the atmospheric temperatflre. A long, steadily cold winter seems to be less destructive to the enclosed pupce than a very changeable one of a lower average temperature. Hence the value, in a changeable climate, of such enswathments as help to graduate the weather variations. Then, again, cocoons are of use in preventing the loss of moisture by pupoe. For example, the pupa of a Ce- cropia or Polyphemus moth exposed to the atmosphere without its natural covering will, as a rule, dry up or produce an imago which will not have moisture enough in its tissues to properly expand its wings. Once more, cocoons conceal the inmates from their natural enemies. If they be noticed they are seen not to be edible, and the tough parchment enswathment protects from any but a deliberate and vigorous siege. Moreover, the odor of the pupa, by which many enemies would be attracted to it, is probably largely confined within the cocoon by their structure. You must take my suggestions with some allowance, how- ever. I confess that I am not in a position to be very positive upon this interesting query, which involves some puzzling and seemingl}' inconsistent facts. But to return to our Cynthia cocoons, let me call your atten- tion again to the manner in which the larva has wrapped the leaf-stalks entirely around and carried the windings clear up to the twig on which the leaves hang. One is almost led to think that the worm wrought with some knowledge that leaves have the habit of dropping 52 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. fi-oiu the trees, and secured itself against any such acci- dent by lasteng the petiole tightly to the limb." '' Well — but — surely, you don't thing that the worm really did know that ! " exclaimed Abby, As 1 did not venture upon an answer, somewhat fear- ing the questions that the quick-witted maiden might shower upon me, the schoolma'am dropped the matter and started another quer}-. ''Why should these cocoons be swung aloft in this fashion, instead of being tied directly to the limbs ? Does the pensile condition give them any special pro- tection V" "That is partly, perhaps mainlj', due to the peculiar character of an ailanthus leaf-stalk, which you can readily observe. Yet I can suggest one probable advantage. There is a cousin-german of these speci- mens— Samia cynthia — who usually builds upon the ailanthus tree. I have gathered a brood of twenty- three cocoons hanging upon a small branch. The ailanthus leaf, 3'ou know, falls early, and you may observe the cocoons (Fig. 18) pendant in clusters from tlie bare boughs of the trees along our city streets. I have seen the sparrows pecking at them, and was reminded of the days wheii I tried to gain health and muscle by a daily boxing-match with a sand-bag hung in the back yard. Of course the bag swung away at every blow, only to come back again. I never had an}' damage from the sand-bag, which, I suppose, was the main point ; but, on the other hand, the sand-bag never got an}* damage from me, siuq)ly because it FIO. 18. — CLUSTER OF CTNTHIA COCOONS. 53 54 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. wouldn't stay to get it, Tliat was precisely the case with the ailanthus cocoons ; they gave way before the bills of the mischievous, chattering sparrows, who could, therefore, make no impression on them. Those cocoons were even more carefully attached than these of the Prometheus, the twigs on which they hung being wrapped for ten and tw^elve inches from the stem, which was also carefully bound about WMth a quite decided ribbon of fine yellownsh white silk. The leaves and leaf-stalk w-ere tightly wrapped to the twig, and thus all were carefully suspended aloft, where they hung through the entire winter. Now, I do not know from actual observation that the spar- rows wished to tear open the cocoon for the sake of the contents, but I have thought that, in early spring, at least, their motive may have been to get material for their nests." "Why should the sparrows wish to obtain the con- tents of a cocoon ?" asked Abby. " Could they eat the pupa ?" " That they could, for the pupa is little more than a mass of vital juices, contained within a not very tough crust. I have said that I have no positive evidence to convict our English sparrows of preying upon the Cecropia pupse, but I cannot say us nuich for some other birds. There is at least one bird, the hairy woodpecker (Picus villosus Linn.), from whose beak the staunch cocoon of the Cecrojna oflers no protection whatever. "I have noticed (Uic dl' thcsi' l)ir(ls, during the carlv WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 55 ^^JM^b\ 'J>M^ ^rill-S-' Ll.^^^ ^^^^. FIG. 19. — THE sparrow's SPARRING MATCH.— p 52. months of winter, clinging to a twig, pecking away at the parchment-like covering of a cocoon attached thereto in a manner that anmsed me very much, and I was hugely enjoying its (as I supposed) vain attempts to penetrate it. But when it lioi)ped to an adjoining limb, shook itself and exhibited the well-known natural 56 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. behavior of a bird that has just banquutecl, I began to think its powers had been vastly underestimated. By the aid of a ladder the cocoon was obtained and found not only to have been punctured, but all the soft and liquid parts extracted. A% there were other cocoons attached to the same tree which, upon examination, proved to be vuiinjured, I was led to believe the bird had found a weak part in the one which it had pene- trated. "After a few days another cocoon was found to be punctured, this time fairly upon the crown and appar- ently in the strongest part. I now saw what had before escaped my notice, viz. : that by the situation of the first cocoon it was accessible to the bird only from below, which accounted for the puncture being near its base, close to the twig, A short time afterward, on passing another tree, out from among the branches Hew the little murderer, and, as usual, a pierced cocoon was found, the puncture yet wet with the juices of the pupa, showing that I had surprised the bird while at breakfast. "In the month of January in the succeeding year, I again found the winged destroyers at work, and could easily distinguish the dry, rattling sound, the death knell of the beautiful moth, the larva of which seems to be as destructive to vegetation as the imago is innocent. So far as I have been able to observe, the l)irds (111 not attack these cocoons until winter, when other insect food is not so easily obtainable. Tn fact, this .seems to be a source of sul)sistence stored up for this WINTER TENANTS OP GUR TREES. 57 season of the year, always fresh, and, to all appear- ances, at all times available."* "But, even if we should acquit the sparrows of mur- derous intent in their assaults upon cocoons, we may fairly conjecture that they are influenced by desire to gather material for nest-building. "I have specimens of the nests of a Vireo taken in Fairmount Park, wliich are largely constructed of silk stolen from cocoons and webs of spiders. One may imagine the vigorous but unavailing protests of the despoiled spinster against the rape of her fair silken yarns, but what could she do against the thieving birds ? Her stationary domicile and cocoon Avere far more exposed to the winged robbers than the oscillating house of the moth, pendant from the trees. '• But we have quite spent our hour afield. We will walk homeward through the ravine, and collect such specimens as we may on the way. I dare say we shall find enough material to supply a theme of conversation for a pleasant evening at home." " You promised to initiate me into the mysteries of scientific names when we started homeward," said Abby ; " cannot your fulfill your promise now ?" "There is not much mystery in the matter," I replied, "and I shall have little difficulty, I think, in [* Among the many letters called out by the original chapters of ' 'Tlie Tenants, " as published in The Continent, was one from 3n'. F. Jr. Webster, Assistant Entomologist of tlie State of Illinois, who forv.'arded me the above facts concerning the hairy woodpeeUer, as observed l)y him, and printed in the American Naturalist. They arc confirmatory of my allusion to the sparrows, and I here take the liberty of adding them to the Tenant's Experience. J m TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. inti-odiK'ing so apt a candidate as yourself. The fact is, objects in natural liistor}' are named precisely on the same principle that prevails in the bcstowment of in- dividual names among men. An animal or plant has a (jcmric name that corresponds with the gens, sir, or family cognomen of a man, and a specific name that corresponds with his baptismal, Christian, or individual name. There is this difterence, that the order of the names is reversed, the gens name of an animal being placed first instead of last. However, there are some nations, as the Hungarians and, I believe, also the Chinese, who follow the very order that naturalists have established ; and in our directories, ledgers and other lists of names we Americans do the same. Thus you might see your own gens or family name, 13rnbijx rnori, BuADKOKD, John, Telca jwlyphenms. " That is a simple enough arrangement, and natur- alists invariably adhere to the rule to give only the two necessary names to one animal. Certainl}', some of their titles are sufficienth' formidable (chiefly be- cause they arc new to us), but you will now never see any multiplication of scientific names upon one poor little creature such as many human babies are com- FIG. 20.— THE KAPE OF THE TARNS.— 7J. 57. 59 (50 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. pcllecl to receive : Angelina Seraphima Celestiana Jane- Eliza Brown ! In sooth, scientific nomenclature is not tlie greatest offender in the matter of long and sound- ing titles." " Where do the naturalists get their names ?" asked Abb}-, after heartily enjoying my sally, which her ex- perience with the names of her school-children enabled her to fully appreciate. "The rule is to derive the generic name from the Greek, and the specific name from the Latin, or to con- vert the former into a Greek form and Latinize the latter. It is further the custom, which is not, how- ever, invariable, to construct the names from some marked characteristic of the animal. Take, for ex- ample, our spider friend Argiope riparia. The generic name is taken from mythology, after a fancy that long prevailed among naturalists, and which is especially marked in the science of astronomy, as you will see by x'ecalling the names of the planets. Argiope (ApyioTC?/) was a Greek nymph, and the fancy of tlie araneologist who created the genus led him to give her name to it. The specific name riparia was given by Ilentz to our fine species, because he frequently found the creature along the banks of streams, and riparia is the Latin adjective that describes this fact. In the same way the other beautiful species was named Argiope, of course, because she belongs to the same gens, and fasciata (Latin for handed) because of the black bands or stripes laid over her silvery abdomen, " Take the next example on our list ; the scientific WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 01 name of the silkworn is Bomhyx mori. The generic title is simply the CTi-eek name for that insect [l56nfiv'E, homhi/x), which very properly is given to the gens of which it is the best known member. In other words, like distinguished sovereigns and citizens it es- tablished a ' house ' bearing its own name. The specific name mori is the genitive case of the Latin word rnorum, a mulberry, and those who have ever fed silkworms can see the reason for such a title for that individual member of the ' house ' of Bombyx. "Now as to polyphemus; its specific name was probably given, as you guessed at first, because, at the time of its discovery, it was supposed to be the giant among the moths ; or, perhaps, because of the large eye which marks each wing of the perfect insect. Specific names are often given in honor of naturalists or others whom the naturalist wishes to compliment. For instance, I might be pleased to name some spider or bug after my friend Bradford, in which case I should Latinize the termination, and call it Bradfordii., or if after Miss Abby herself, Bradfordm^ perhaps, which is the female termination of the Latinized Bradfordius. Such are the general rules governing scientific nomencla- ture. There are exceptions and violations. But here we are at home !" " Thanks !" said the schoolnia'am. " I see now what I never knew before, that in science, at least, there is much in a name." CHAPTER V. MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDE. "There is a peculiar pleasure in the hearth when the first autumnal frosts' call for fires. That is, if one has an open grate or an old-fashioned fireplace. !Modern stoves and furnaces have 1 urned all the poetry out of the songs and traditions of the ' fireside.' " It requires a more vivid imagination than ordinary mortals are blessed with to throw the charm of ' ingle- side,' nnd all that, around a hole in the wall covered by an iron filagree gate through whose perforations a hot air-blast is pufflng. As to stoves, if we except the good old 'Franklin,' and all of that ilk, there is nothing to be said about or for them save that they do 'keep us warm.' " So the Mistress discoursed as Dan piled up the hick- ory-wood upon the great back-log already smoldering upon the sitting-room hearth. In the general repairs which the old farmhouse had undergone this room was preserved from the intrusion of a coal-grate, and its cav- ernous depth dedicated to the ancient Lar of tlie and- iron and crane. Behold us, tlien, the entire Ilighwood family, seated before the first fire of the season, rejoicing in its genial light and warmth. The specimens gathered FIG. 21. — COCOON OF CECROPIA MOTH. 63 64 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ill the morning walk are laid upon the table, together with (livers books of reference. The Mistress, the schoolma'am and myself have seats at the table ; Hugh Bond, the fanner, sits at the chimney side ; at his feet sits his youngest boy, Harry, and opposite him are his son Joe, a stout lad of seventeen, and his daughter Jenny, a young woman of nineteen, who is established at Highwood as one of our handmaids. Old Dan, some- what more modestly, sits on a cricket at the side of the door that opens into the kitchen. In the days of Farmer Townes the room in which we sit was the " living-room " of the family, the kitchen serving for the dining-room as well. We have made the best of the builder's plans, and converted it into a dining and sitting-room jointly and severally. A snug and comfortable place it is, too, with its great wood fire roaring in the chimney ! We are a democratic company, observe, and Avhy not ? for we are gathered for the study of natural sci- ence, and science knows no caste ; besides it is the good wife's doing, and came about in this Avise : The advent of the master and schoolma'am, as they entered the gate after their morning walk, with hands full of divers specimens and others fluttering from the master's hatband, had created quite a sensation at Highwood. It Avas midday, the dinner-hour on an American farm, a custom come of descent doubtless from the European "dejeuner," Avith Avhich meal, at least, both in character and time, as noAv served upon the Continent, it precisely corresponds. Tlie entire MOTHS AT THE MRESIDE. 65 household was therefore on the premises, and were all on the alert to know what such strange procedure might portend. Dan shook his head significantly, and evidently considered it a natural outcropping of my malady. Sarah, the cook, thought that " yarbs '• for medicine might be at the bottom of the business, until Hugh explained that something more than plants had been carried home. He had a fixint glimmer of the facts, for some one had told him that his " boss used to be a great bug-hunter." Joe, Jenny and their little brother Harry, a bright twelve-year-old boy, with that strong sympathy with nature which marks young people, were full of curiosity which (with Harry espe- cially) overflowed in a very freshet of questions. The Mistress had noted all these things as she moved back and forth, and at her request an invitation was carried to the whole domestic company to join the evening con- versation. All accepted heartily except Sarah, a middle- aged white woman, childless and a "grass-widow," who declared that she "didn't see no use in any sich nonsense." Nevertheless, as she sat in the shadows beside the kitchen-stove she cast many surreptitious looks through the open door upon the group at the table, and kept a wide-oi^en ear turned in the same direction. "Suppose you begin the conversation," said Abby, " by telling us the use of these cocoons. What ends do they serve in nature ? I was much interested in your statements this morning, and would like our circle to have the benefit of some of them at least." 0)6 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Very good. I will answer b^- lir.sl asking Bond a question : "What is tlie use of the straw^ coverings wiiich you were wrapping around the rose-bushes this morning ?" ''Why, sir," replied Hugh, smiling at such an apparently simple question, " that's plain enough. It saves the bushes from the frost." "But surely the frost gets through the straw at last, and the bushes must be quite as cold during winter as tJic outside atmosphere ?" '"Y-a-a-s," Hugli returned; "but then the straw kind o' tempers it, too. You see, the cold w^orks in gradual like, and allows the plant to git used to it. Besides that, I've been told that the l)ushcs ' sweat ' jist like animals, and the heavy straw swathing keeps in that nateral warmth. Still, 1 don't know 'bout that. I reckon the rabl)its has somethin' to do with the busi- ness, too ; leastways, I take pretty good care to wrap the lower parts a leetle closter. But, to tell the truth, sir, I never thought much about the why and wherefore. I puts a coat on the tender bushes pretty much as I puts one on myself" " Well, Hugh, you have given a good enough starting point for my answer. Tlie cocoons, like the straw wraps, teniper the rapid changes in the atmosphere. A long, steady winter seems to be less destructive to the inclosed jiupa than a very changeable one of a lower average temperature. Hence the value, in a change- able climate, of such wraps as help to graduate the weather variations. Here now is this Cecropia cocoon. W PTG. 22. — CECEOPIA COCOON PAKTLT DISSECTED 67 68 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. (Fig. 21). I strip aside the leafy covering, and expose a stiff, parchinent-lilce case, as waterproof as a rubber- coat. Inside, you see an egg-shaped object, completely covered with a thick blanketing of flossy silk. (Fig. 22). The silk overlays a second parchment case, which I cut away, and come to the baby moth, tucked in its cradle, sound asleep. This is what we call the pupa. There it is !" The whole party had eagerly watched the progress of the scissors as I dissected the cocoon, and the young people had become so much interested that they left their seats at the fireside, and approached the table. " Dear me !" said the Mistress, laughing, " that quite equals the care which German mothers show their babies in winter. I have seen them lying upon a feather bed, and another bed of eider down or feathers laid upon them as a covering. Their rosy little fat faces peeped out of their knit woolen caps, and showed pink and chubby like a premium peach in a bunch of cotton." "I wonder," said Abby, "if the Indian mothers didn't get their style of wrapping up their papooses from the Cecropia moth ?" " "Who knows ? Dame Nature has given many a good hint to men, and the squaws might have gone further and fared woi'se. But to proceed with our lesson : here is one of Harry's contributions. He dug it out of the potato-field for me this afternoon. I didn't give him the name of the baby insect, or I fear that he would not have been so friendly toward the ' poor wee thing,' for it is an old acquamtance — ' the potato-worm.' " MOTHS AT THE FHtESIDE. 69 FIG. 23. — THE POTATO-WORM LARVA OF S. QUINQUE-MAOULATA. "Hi !" cried Dan, sitting bolt upright on his cricket, " doan' mean ter say, Mars Mayfiel', dat daVs de nas'y big green catumpill'r 't eats de tater wines? 'Taint nothin' like it, shore !" "Yes, Dan, this is the potato-worm, the tomato- worm, or the tobacco-worm, just as you choose to call it. You all know it — a large green caterpillar, with a kind of thorn on the tail, and oblique, whitish stripes on the side of the body. It grows to the thickness of the fore-finger, and the length of three inches or more (Fig. 23). It comes to its full size from the middle of August to the first of September, then crawls down the stem of the plant, and buries itself in the ground. 70 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. There, iu a few days, it throws off its caterpillar skin, and becomes this bright brown crj-salis." (Fig. 24), ''If you please, Mars MayfieP," interrupted Dan, "whar's de 'coon? Dat's no 'coon at all; I 'speck FIG. '-!i. — PUPA OF POTATO-MOTH. Harry's done shucked it, and I'd like powerful well to know all 'bout dat tater-worm." '•I didn't neither!" answered Harry, warmly. "That's all there was of it ; Mr. Mayfield stood by Avhile I dug, and knows it's so." '•Quite true, Harry; but, Dan, can jou tell why Bond don't wrap up the mots of his bushes in straw, as well as the branches ?" " Why, Mars Mayfiel', 'v course de ground keeps de roots warm widout de straw." " Precisely ; and so it is with the cry sails. As the larva goes into the ground, to 'transform,' as we say, instead of hanging on the tree like this Cecropia. it has less need of the protection of a cocoon. Although we shall sec by-aud-by, that crysalids can get on very well, even when hanging naked on the trees. "But look at this," said Abby, pointing to the long, stem-like appendage at one end of the crysalis. " Your crysalis must have been suspended to the trees at some MOTHS A T THE FIRESIDE. 71 time, for here is the very stem by wliicli it hung, just like those of the Polyphemus and Cynthia moths." Thereupon she handed the object to the mistress, who examined it carefully. "Why, father," she remarked, "I fear that Abby has caught you napping this time." " That is right," I answered. " I am glad tliat your minds are alert and not disposed to take too much without question. Let the crysalis pass around the circle, and then I will show you the imago or perfect insect. Here is a figure of our potato-worm full tledged. A fine large moth it is, you see. It has dropped its humble name now and is known as Sphinx qninque-ma- culata, or, in plain English, the Five-spotted Sphinx." (Fig. 25.) "Well, well," said the Mistress, a little impatiently. "What has that to do with this 'stem' that we were talking about ?" "Patience, my dear, I am coming to that; but I want j'ou, first, to see the insect's tongue. Come, Abby, you have the first look ; do you see the tongue ?" " Not I ! and it's not to be seen, for the back of the moth is toward us." "Then let the others try." All studied the picture and came to the same conclu- sion— no tongue was to be seen. " I must put spectacles on your eyes, I find. You see this long, delicate, curled organ rising out of the head and extended over the flower into which it is about to be thrust ? — this is the insect's tongue," MOTUS AT THE FIRESIDE. 73 " TlMt the tougue?" "The tongue?" "The tongue!" So the query and exclamation ran from one to an- other, or, rather, rose from all in chorus. " Yes," I answered, " that is the tongue, and Madam Sphinx certainly can't complain of its brevity. Here, now, is where your 'stem' comes in. The long, slen- der object which j-ou mistook for the cord by which a cocoon hangs is a tnnyue-case. It is bent over, as you see, from the head so as to touch the breast onl}' at the end, causing the crysalis somewhat to resemble a pitcher." My discourse was here interrupted by an unctuous roll of laughter proceeding from the kitchen door, " IIo, ho, ho!" All eyes were turned upon Dan, who Avas rocking back and forth upon his stool, in an ecstacy of merri- ment. Soon the entire group was laughing in pure sympathy, for no one had suspected the cause of Dan's mirth. " Beg pardon, Mars Maylier," he said, at length. "I done forgot iny manners, dat's a fac' ; but it come over me so Sudden ! I'se ies' thinkin' dat ef all de lonc- tongued folkses could git dat kin' uv a spectakle-case to stow away dar tongues in. "i would be mighty handy round our kitchen o' nights ! ]);iv's Sarey Ann, now, " Another out1)reak of hearty laughter interrupted Dan's remarks, the point of which every one appre- 74 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ciated ; for, with all her excellencies, our cook carried a sharp tongue, and Avas prone to use it freely, as Dan had more than once complained, upon ''de kitchen folks/' ''Uan Davis," cried a wrathful voice from out the shadows of the kitchen, "you'd better curl up a rod or two of your own tongue, I reckon." Dan hitched his cricket around, half rose, and looked into the kitchen. " Tore goodness sake, Sarey Ann, I nebber s'posed you's a lestenin' to our nonsenses 'bout the bugs. Hi den ! You've been keepiu' the lef year open all de time ?" "Sit down, Dan," I said. "I'll intercede for you with Sarah, although you certainly deserve a little tongue -lashing this time. Let us get back to our crysalis. It remains in the ground through the winter, below the reach of frost, and in the following spring the crysalis-skin bursts open, the large moth crawls out of it, comes to the surface of the ground, and, mounting upon some neighboring plant, waits until the approach of evening invites it to expand its untried winus and lly in search of food, which it sucks from the tlowers by means of its tongue. The tongue can be unrolled to the length of five or six inches, but, when not in use, is coiled like a watch-spring, and is alniost entirely con- cealed between two large and thick feelers, under the head. The niotli measures across the wings about live inches ; is of a gray color, variegated with blackish lines and bands, and on each side of the body there are live round, or rectangular, orange-colored spots en- MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDE. 75 circled with blacl\. These are the markings that have given it the name of tlie Five-spotted Sphinx." " Wliy should it be called a sphinx at all?" asked Abby. " The larva, when disturbed, has the habit of raising its head aloft and curving several of the first segments of the body (see Fig. 23). The fancied resemblance of this attitude to the Egyptian Sphinx has suggested its scientific name." " That is very good," said the Mistress, "very good, indeed, and I am sure that it will help me to remember what you have said. Is that what has been called a scientific use of the imagination ? If so, I suppose we might complete the fancy, and think of the famous 'Riddle of the Sphinx,' as the continually repeated question of the farmers, ' What be them worms made for, anyhow ?' " " Are not these large moths very rare insects ?" asked Abby. " I don't remember ever to have seen one." " On the contrary, they are quite common," I replied. " You will find them even within the city limits, where they feed on the Jimson (Jamestown) weed, which grows abundantly on vacant lots. But they are night- feeders, keeping close under the cover of the leaves and branches during the day, and only flying abroad after nightfall. For this reason we rarely see them. You have seen the small species of moths fluttering around the lights on a summer evening, but the large species do not often venture through the windows. The fact is, there is a night-world of all sorts of creatures living 76 MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDK. ^7 close around us, little known by most men, and, indeed, their presence little suspected." "It's a mighty good thing," remarked Dan, " dat dem mo'hvs doan fly inter de winders often." He placed his elbows on his knees, leaned forward, rested his chin upon his fists, shook his head oracularly, and assumed a very solemn air. " ISTo, it ain't bes', noways, to have too much to do wid dem critters. Dar was my brudder Wash, 'fore I cum up from ole Marylan' ; de berry week 'fore he died one ob dese big mo'hvs flew inter de winder, flickered aroun' de candle, and 'fore we know'd brushed it right out. Dar we wur, all in the dark ; an' I tell you, a fearder set there never was. I 'member dat night to dis day ! We knowed we w\as warned, an' dat some 'v us mus' go. But which ? — Good Lor', dat was de question I Shore 'nough, a week arter dat, Wash was taken sick an' died. He knowed he had to go w'en he was tuk, an' jis lay down and kin' o' faded out. No ! It doan do to have too much to do wid dem mo'hvs. " An' dat ain't all," continued the venerable servant, perceiving that w'e were all encouraging him to continue his discourse. " Dat ain't all, needer. Dar's one ob dem mo'hvs dat goes flyin' roun' wid a reg'lar raw- head-and-bloody-bones on it, like de pirate flag ob Cap- tain Kidd. Dey calls it de ' Death's-Head Mohf,' or somethin' like that " " Did you ever see one, Dan ?" I asked, interrupting him. The old man started, spread his open palms upward, 78 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. rolled his 03^08, sliook his head, and, with a voice that almost tremhled with fear, replied : " See one, did you say ? Doau iiel)l)cr ask dat ques- tion, Mars Mayfier. Ob course, I nebber did ! De good Lor' 'n mercy forbid dal ! Amen. AVhy, it's all a man's life's Avorth to see a Death's-IIead Mohf. Mor' 'a dat " — here he lowered his voice to a deep whisper — " dey do say dat the good Lor' lie uel)ber made dat critter at all ! De ebil sperrits — de berry ole debbil heself — 'ceived de idee, an' fabricated dat ting in de darkest night obde year. Doan loll me ! I doan want to see no sech doin's, Doan you show me dem picters, needer. Ko good luck '11 ebber come from paintin' dem tings. IIow d'ye suppose de man dat drawcd 'em ebber libbed to do it widout some powerful conjurin' and cahoots wid de ebil sperrits ? Dar's bad work about dem books, I'se afeared." lie pointed to the work on natural history that lay on the table, open at a page whereon several moths were figured. "An' that's as true as preachin' !" It was Sarah's voice that broke tlie silence that fol- lowed Dan's discourse, which found cnnlulous hearers among a good majority of our company. The cook had gradually hitched her chair nearer and nearer to the door, until, quite nnable to withstand the ftiscination of Dan's superstitious remarks, as he lowered his voice she rose from her seat and now stood in the doorway. Her nice was flushed with excitement, was wrought up into an expression of terror, and as she spoke she stretched out her arms like a prophetess. FIG. 27.— THE SHADOW OP A MOTH.— «. 77. 79 80 ThWASTS OF AN OLD FARK "Dan never said InuT words, though lie isn't over- stocked with sense, for that matter. There's bad luck in them moths any way you take "em. I never 'low a caterpillar to git into the house, and I wouldn't for the world. I tell you, I run for tlie broom quicker when I see one a-coming. Why, if it spins its nast}' cocoon in the house it's a sure sign that death'll come, and no tellin' who'll be taken. If it gils in your clothes- press, or anjAvhere, and spins on your dress, it's a certain warnin' that you'll wear a shroud before the year's out. I've heerd that often, and jest know it's true. I don't like all them things that Mr. Mayfield has brought into the house, an' 1 told 'im so, too ! There, I've said my say !" Whereupon the good woman again retired to the shade of the kitchen-stove. I glanced around the circle, and observed that the countenances of my little audience showed varied emo- tions. A mingled expression of amusement and disap- probation sat upon the face of the Jtlistress ; cvidentlj' her ideas of domestic discipline had received somewhat of a shock. Abby could scarcely suppress the laughter that pla3'ed around her lips. As for the rest, they looked perplexed and sober, and it was easily seen that the superstitions of Dan and Sarah had disturbed them. Of course, I could not let the matter pass without some explanation, and, as though divining my purpose, the mistress disposed of Sarah by sending her into the cel- lar for cider and apples. " AVe have l)een very Ibrtunate this evening," I MOTILE x\T THE PIRESIDB. SI began, "in having living examples of the qnecr no- tions which many people have formed abont these poor niotlis. Of conrse, they are mere superstitions, and very absurd. You needn't shake your head, Dan, it is quite true ; I shan't try to straighten out such an old felloAV as you, but wc mustn't let these young people ftxll into any such foolish beliefs. In earlier times people knew so little about natural histor}', and were so iilled with superstition generally, that they conceived all manner of ridiculous ideas of the living things around them, and their relations to man and his des- tiny. We have learned better now ; we know these birds, and beasts, and creeping things quite well ; for naturalists have studied their habits, and have inter- preted, in a simple and natural way, many of the strange sounds and sights that filled our forefathers with awe. Let us dismiss all such idle fancies." " But what is this story of Dan's, about the Death's- Head Moth ?" asked Abl^y. " I have heard something of that kind before." "Here is the insect," I answered, turning to a figure in the book before us. " These white markings on a dark thorax certainly have a striking resemblance to a skull and cross-bones, and this has given the insect its name [Acherontia atropos) ; l)ut, like all similar resem- blances, it is simpl}' one of the accidents of I^^ature. It is a European moth, and Dan very accurately illustrates the feelings with which it was formerly, and, indeed, is now, regarded by many people. Latreille informs us that the sudden appearance of these insects in a cer- 82 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 28. — death's head moth axi> larva. tain district of France, while the people Avere suffering from an epidemic disease, was considered by many per- sons the cause of the visitation. There is a quaint superstition in England that the Death' s-IIead Moth has been very common in Whitehall ever since the ' martyrdom ' of Charles I. " The insect is widely distributed. I have seen fine specimens from Germany, Africa, and Asia, in the col- lections of Mr. Titian Peale and the American Ento- MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDE. 83 mological Society. (Fig. 28.) It is a fine insect, perhaps tlie largest in Europe— the spread of wing sometimes reaching six inches. Tlie larva is enor- mously large, sometimes five inches in length, and, like our Five-spotted Sphinx, feeds upon the potato- plant. The jessamine is also a favorite food-plant. But here is Sarah, with sweet cider and apples, and I see that Jenny is bringing us some cake. Suppose we give ourselves a short recess, in order to enjoy the refreshment." CHAPTER VI. PELLIO]SrELT.A AND POMONELLA — A CHROXTCLE OF "OLD CLO'S" AND WINDFALLS, " Permit me to add my contribution to the museum," said the Mistress, entering the room. She bore in her hands a rug, which she luuig over the back of a chair close to the light. The little napless patches showing here and there like islands in an ocean, revealed the presence of that enemy of the housewife, the clothes- moth. "Ah! here we have something interesting," I ex- clainifd. " There is no one of all the Lepidoptera whose habits better repay study than this little fellow." "What a pity," interrupted the Mistress, "that so many very interesting people and things in this world have the misfortune to be such miserable transgressors ! Now, here are tliese little wretches who play such havoc with our carpets, furs and cloths, so attractive in their characters that you natural philosophers all go off into enthusiasm over them. How do you account for such a seeming contradiction ?" " I allow that the little fellows are great rogues, and suppose it must be Nature's way to reconcile us to their mischief by bestowing upon them such cunning habits. 84 FIG. 20. — THIL MISTltESS's CONTKIISDTION Sri 80 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Besides, what right have we to complain ? We slaughter birds and beasts for feathers and furs ; we kill the silk- moth to get us a gown, and then think it hard if this poor worm makes a few raids for food and clothing upon our stolen finery ! No, no ! we must be just, at least. However, let us look at this rug closely, and I think we shall conclude that we have been well repaid for all our loss here. " There are several species of moths similar in habits, whose caterpillars feed upon animal substances, such as furs, woolens, silk and leather. Moreover, they are dreadful den>redators in the naturalist's cabinet, devour- ing his specimens remorselessly, so that you see I liave had occasion to practice the toleration and charity which I preach. And wliy not ? The creatures are only fulfilling the mission imposed upon them by the great Author of their being— to purify the world of its dead tissues. " You might add to their virtues," suggested Abby, sarcastically, " the fact that they contribute largely to increase the stock of the ' old clo's ' merchant, and thus confer indirectly a favor on the poor by cheapening clothing." "Thank you!" T replied. "Any championship is welcome to a losing side, and many a true word has been spoken in jest." " These moths belong to a family named Tinea by entomologists, such as the tapestry moth {Tinea tapet- zeWa), the fur-moth {Tinea pelUonclla), cabinet-moth {Tinea destructor)^ and clothes-moth {Tinea vestianella). PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 87 The species which lias been at work upon this rug is probably Pellionella, the onl}- ' clothes-moth ' known in the United States the larva of which constructs a case for its occupancy. " The moths themselves are very small, expanding their wings not more than eight-tenths of an inch. They are thus well fitted for making their way through minute holes and chinks. If they cannot find such a tiny avenue into wardrobe or bureau, or fail of the opportvuiity of an open drawer or door, they will con- trive to glide through the keyhole. Once in, it is no easy matter to dislodge them, for they are exceedingly agile vermin, and escape out of sight in a moment. The mother-insect deposits her eggs on or near such material as will be best adapted for the food of the young, takins; care to distribute' them so that there may be a plentiful svipply and enough of room for each." "Isn't that a bit of pure maliciousness?" queried the Mistress. "The mother, I suppose, scatters her eggs so that her ravenous caterpillars may do all the damage possible by attacking many parts of a garment at the same time." " That is a bit of pure maternal instinct," I answered. "The mother-moth wisely arranges that all her off- spring shall have a fair outset in life — enough to eat and wear. When one of this scattered faniil}' issues from the egg its first care is to provide itself with a domicile, or, if you please, a dress. It belongs to that class of caterpillars that feed under cover. I once placed one upon a desk covered with green cloth and 88 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. set myself to watch it. It wandered about for half a day before it began operations. At last, having pitched upon a proper site, it cut out a filament very near the cloth, in order, I suppose, to have it as long as possible, and placed it on a line with its body. It then immedi- ately cut another, and placing it parallel with the first, bound both together with a few threads of its own siik. The same process was repeated with other hairs, till the little creature had made a fabric of some thickness, and this it went on to extend till it was large enough to cover its body. Its body, by-the-way, as is usual with caterpillars, is employed as a model and measure for regulating its operations." " That's a vei-y human trait," said the Mistress ; "my mother invariably used part of her body as a yard- stick, measuring light material with outstretched arms, or with one full-length arm, counting from chin to fingers." "Mother Bond does that still,'' ventured Harry. '• Ah, well," I said, " i)i'rhaps by-and-by we may find some starting-points for a bond of sympathy between the ladies and even a clothes-moth ! But to proceed. My caterpillar made choice of longer hairs for the out- side than for the inside, and the covering was at last finished within by a fine and closely woven tapestry of silk. I could only see the progress of its work by look- ing' into the o]iening at eitlier of the ends, for the cov- ering was quite opaque and concealed the larva. In weaving this lining the creature turns around by doubling itself and bringing its head where the tail bad PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. Fia. 30. — A CASE OF "old CLO's " AND CHARITY. — ^p been, the interior being left just wide enough for this purpose. " Its dress being in this way complete, the body quite covered, the larva begins to feed on the material of the cloth, which you see is its ' bed and board ' and ward- robe besides. Soon, like a growing boy, our young Pel- lionella outgrows its clothes. As it has no father's or big brother's worn suits to furnish material, and iiq <»0 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. mother who has learned the art of Burns' Scotch Cotter to 'gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new,' it proceeds to enlarge its own garments. It sets to work as dexterously as any tailor, slitting the coat or case on the two opposite sides, and then adroitly inserting be- tween them two pieces of the requisite size. It man- ages all this so as not to expose its body, never slitting the whole length of the coat at once." " Why," exclaimed Abby, " the worm has learned the mj'stery of a gore I Here is certainly a fair beginning for that bond of sympatb}' of which you spoke be- tween the clothes-moth and the dressmaking part of womanhood !" "Shall we congratulate the moth or the mantua- maker on the connection r"' I asked. "Really, I am not quite so sure with an answer as I would have been a few moments ago. My re- spect for the little wretches has vastly increased. I don't know how I shall muster courage to kill them hereafter !" " By taking advantage of this pecular genius for patching," I continued, " or for (lorcs.^ as Abby puts it, clothes-moths have been forced to make their tubular coats of divers colors and patterns. By shifting the caterpillar from one colored cloth to another the re- quired tints are produced, and the pattern is gained ])y watching the creature at work, and transferring it at the proper time. For example, a half-grown caterpillar may be placed upon a piece of bright green cloth. After it has made its tube, it may be shifted to a black PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 91 cloth, and when it has cut the longitudinal slit and has tilled it up, it can be transferred to a piece of scarlet cloth, so that the complementary colors of green and scarlet are brought into juxtaposition and ' thrown out ' by the contrast with the black. In this way the little worm, by friendly human manipulation, may by-and-by find itself arrayed, like the favorite son of Jacob, in 'a coat of many colors.' "The moth-worms pass the summer within these silk-lined rolls, some carrying them about as they move along, and others fastening them to the substance they are eating. Concealed within these movable cases, or lint-covered burrows, they ply their sharp reaping-hooks amid the harvest of napery throughout the summer. In the fall they cease eating, make fast their habita- tions, and lie torpid during winter. Early in spring they change to crysalids within their cases, and in about twenty days thereafter are transformed to winged moths, which fly about in the evening until they have paired and are ready to lay eggs. "We are indebted to the Mistress for another contri- bution to our collection," I continued, picking up an apple from the dish. " This little brown hole in the side of our noble fruit suggests the story of a life. Do you know what made this opening, Joe V" " Oh, yes, sir," was the ready response, " it is where an apple-worm got in, and you'll find it at the core." " Partly right and partly wrong. The apple-worm did make the hole, but this is not where it entered the fruit, and we shall not be likely to find it inside, al- 92 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 31. — BURROW OF APPLE-WORM. though it is just possible that we may. However, let us cut the apple in half and see. Here, you observe, is a little burrow curving through the core between the eye (Fig. 31) and the hole in the skin, and branching oft' at the center, piei'cing the apple again at a point above. The worm that ate out this bur- row is the caterpillar of the codling-moth, Carpocapsa pomo- neUa. It is a small insect, its wings expanding three-fourths of an inch ; they have the ap- pearance of brown watered silk, and on the hinder margin of each of the forewings is a large oval brown spot, edged with copper-color. The hind- wings and abdomen have the lustre of satin." "Why is it called the cocZ?i'»r/-moth ?" asked the Mistress. "Suppose we refer that to the Schoolma'am," I answered. "Suppose we refer it to the dictionary," said Abby, taking down the book from the shelf. "Here it is " : " ' C'odlin^ or codling ' — spelled with one d, by-the- wa}- — ' An immature apple.' And here are uses of the word, one by Shakespeare : ' A codling when 'tis al- most an apple ;' and one by King, ' In cream and cod- lings reveling with delight.' I confess that is quite new to nie. ;My notions of the word S£),vored chiefly of PELLTONELLA AND rOMONELLA. 93 our New England staple, codfish— cod^m*/, a young cod. What a useful book a dictionary is !" "Yes, when one has learned the art of using it. Had you looked further you would probably have found that cod is an old word for pod. An apple is simply an edi- ble pod, the case that contains the seed of a tree. Now we may get back to our story. " Pomonella is an immigrant, not a native American ; she was imported to this country about the beginning of this century, and has so well improved her time and opportunities that her progeny may be found in nearly the whole of North America.'" "Whence did she come ?" asked Abby. " From Europe, directly, at least, to us." "There! I am glad to learn that," returned the Schoolma'am. " I shall make good use of the fact when I next hear of America's viciousness in sending the Colorado potato-beetle to England." "Well," said the Mistress, " didn't we send the potato first ? Surely, our cousins should share with us the entomological ' trimmings.' " " All of which," I resumed, " would scarcely recom- pense our apple-growers for great loss inflicted upon their orchards. There are two broods of insects every year. The early brood appears about the time of apple- blossoms, having spent the winter in the larval state. In spring the larvte change into brown crysalids ; shortly after, the moths appear. The female moths seek the young fruit just as it is forming, and deposit their tiny yellow eggs in the calyx or eye, that is, the •»4 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. blossom end of the apple. CJuly one egg is laid on each apple, but as the mother has about fifty eggs to dispose of, you may suppose that a few wide-awake and healthy females can make sad havoc with a crop." " Ain't the same apples visited by more'n one moth ?" asked Hugh. "Sometimes two worms will be found in one apj^le ; but this is quite rare, and the fact conmionly illustrates the force and wisdom of the maternal instinct that directs the moth. " The eggs begin to hatch in about a week after the}^ are laid, and the little caterpillars produced from them immediately burrow into the apples, making their way gradually from the eye toward the core. The caterpil- lar is of a whitish color ; its head is heart-shai^ed and black ; the top of the first ring or collar and of the last ring is also black, and there are eight little blackish dots or warts arranged in pairs on each of the other rings. As the larva grows the body becomes ficsh- colored, the black parts turn brown, and the dots dis- appear. In the course of three Aveeks, or a little more, it comes to full size, and meanwhile has burrowed to the core and through the apple in various directions. The larva is so small at first that its presence can only be detected by the brownish powder that it pushes out in eating its way through the eye. This is made up of the ' castings ' or exuviie of the worm, and is a sure sign of infected fruit, as it often clings to the apple." " True enough !'' exclainu'd Hugh. " I've often seed PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 95 them reddish- b r o w n grains on worm-eaten apples, but never know'd w'at it was. But w'at's the idee in dumpin' 'em out this a- way 9" " Simply a wish to get rid of the refuse. Our cater- pillar is a very tidy housekeeper, and cleans its little habitation with a zeal that the ladies at least will commend. As it grows older it enlarges its quarters to suit its increased size, and gener- ally makes a second opening or door through the ... „ , , FIG. 32. — COCOON, PUPA, FEMALE Side ot tne apple, larva of the codling moth, out of which fraof- a parasitic ichneumon-fly. AND AND 06 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. nients of food are cast. The eflect of all these opera- tions is to ripen the apple before its time, and hence we have what are known as 'wind-falls,' although the wind is not necessary to bring down the precocious fruit, for it tumbles in the stillest weather. These worm-eaten apples are gathered up liy basketfuls, and are among the earliest brought to our markets." " That is so," said Hugh ; " aud, now I think of it, we get sucli good prices for these early wind-falls that I doubt Avhether the apple-worm does as much harm as I'd thought. Many's the hard word I've said agin the little beggars, an' I reckon I'll take some of 'em back." "What has become of the worm?" asked Abb}-, who had been carefully picking out the burrows in the cut apple. " There is certainly no trace of larva or cry sails here." " True, aud for a quite sufficient reason. When the apples drop, and sometimes while they are still hang- ing, our codlings escape through the opening in the side (Fig. 32) and creep into chinks in the bark of the trees, or into other .sheltered places, which they hollow out with their teeth to suit their shape. Here each one spins for itself a cocoon or silken case as thin, delicate, and white as tissue paper. This is disguised or pro- tected on the outside by attaching to silky threads small fragments of the bai'k of the ti*ee or other available particles. (Fig. 32.) "Three days after the completion of the cocoon the larva chaugeji to a crysalis. The i)upa is a pale yellow PELIJONKhLA AND POMONELLA. 97 color at first, which deepens in a day or two to pale brown. Two weeks thereafter tlie transformation is complete, and the imago or perfect moth escapes. This event occnrs abont the middle oi* latter part of Jnly, Then follows the wedding-day, and in a few days more the female begins to deposit her eggs for the late brood of larv?e, the late apples being generally selected for this pni'pose. These larvae mature during the autumn or early winter months. Sometimes they crawl out or swing themselves out before the apples are gathered, in which case they seek some sheltered nook under the loose bark of a tree, or other convenient hiding-place. But if carried with the fruit into the cellar, they of course spin their cocoons upon the boxes, bins, barrels, or walls." " I have it now !" exclaimed Hugh, abruptly. " Beg your pardon, sir, but I'd been try in' to think, w'ile you was tellin' about them cocoons, w'ere I'd seen sich ob- jecks, 'n I jest happened to remember. Las' winter I found hundreds of 'em spun up betwixt the staves and hoops of the apple bar'ls. I noticed 'em as a cur'us thing, but didn't know w'at to make of 'em, and never tho't of 'em ag'in until now. Them w^as apple-worms ; I'm sure of it now." ''I have no doubt of it, Hugh; and you provided them with snug winter-quarters, and then allowed them to escape, to come out last spring by companies to infest the apples. But you'll know better another time, I dare say." "That I will, sir; and I'll pass the hint around 98 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. among my neighbors, too. There's a worm that l)ores into the pears, pretty much in the same way as the apples. Is that the same varmint ?" "Yes; the applorworm is very destructive to the pear, and is also found on the wild crab, and occasion- ally on the plum and peach. And now I believe that I have finished the story of Pomonella and how she punctures our apples." "A very pretty tale it is, too," said Abby, looking up with a bright smile. " One of my classes was read- ing yesterday the legend of William Tell and the Apple, and I have just been wondering whether some of our myth-hunting critics and historians might not find the origin of that favorite story in the adventures of a codling-moth ! I can fancy the mother Pomonella personating the tyrant Gessler, and imposing upon our Caterpillar — the William Tell of Insect-world, you know — the destiny of forever piercing apples I" "But what will you have to represent the Switzer's little boy?" I asked. "Oh, the apple-bough, of course; and how nicely the idea of youth's immature age harmonizes with our definition of a ' codling ' — the punctured, immature fruit!" "At all events," said the Mistress, when the laugh at Abby's sally had ceased, "your mothical Tell main- tains the legendary hero's reputation for archeiy. It rarely fails to, 'bring down' the apple. But, really, I didn't know that our schoolmistress had such a genius for the so-called ' higher criticism !' " FELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 99 His h^t>v7 Ik FIG. 33. — A MOTHICAL VERSION OF TELL AND THE APPLE. "Can you tell, please," asked Hugh, \yho had not quite grasped our by-play and evidently wanted some- thing more practical, "how to get rid of the worms? I've tried smokin' them out, burnin' Aveeds under the trees, but that don't seem to amount to much." 100 TENANT t< OF AN OLD PARM. "Of course, an}- smoking, to Ije eftl'ctive, should be done in the season -when the moths are laying their eggs. That may smother or drive away the mothers. I would recommend carefully scraping off the loose and rugged bark of the trees in the spring, in order to de- stroy the crysalids. Perhaps the most effective plan is the old-fashioned band-trap. A band of old cloth or a twist of common brown paper is wound around or hung in the crotches of the trees, or wrapped about the trunk. In these the apple-worms will conceal themselves, and thus great numbers of the larva and cocoons may be taken and destroyed from the time when they first begin to leave the apples, during the last of May, until the fruit is gathered. Of course, the bands should be often examined. There is one precaution, however, that is certainly very useful. As the larvse leave the fruit soon after it drops from the trees, the wind-Mien apples should be gathered up daily and such immediate use made of them as will be sure to kill the insects before they have time to escape." "Oh, dear!" cried Abb}', laughing, "that means fresh — c/cZer .'" and she pointed to our empty glasses. "Shan't I help you to a little more? You must be thirsty from talking." " Certainly ; you shall not destroy my relish for the drink even though you make it sure that Hugh and Dan did put a few worm-eaten apples into the mill. I am reminded of a remark that I recently heard Dr. Joseph Leidy make at a meeting of the Philadelphia Academ3- of Natural Sciences. He had been making a PELLTONELLA AND POMONELLA. 101 commuuicatiou upon a certain large parasitic worm whose 'host ' is our famous 'Delaware shad,' and con- cluded by saying that a portion of the fish — which I forbear to name out of respect for the epicures— that is considered the most delicious morsel of all, owes its delicate flavor to the presence of this parasite ! ' I suppose,' said the distinguished naturalist, 'that our shad-loving friends would cease to relish this tidbit if they only knew the facts. But, then, why should they ? — for the parasite is composed of pure shad, and nothing more.' So I say of " " Oh, you needn't explain," interrupted the Mistress, "the application is quite obvious. But for the benefit of the rest of the family, if not for your sake, I beg to say that Hugh has strict instructions to use only sound apples for cider." " True enough, ma'am," said the farmer ; " and you may be sure that we are all very careful. Miss Abby says that takin' care of win'-falls means cider. Not at all, ma'am ; it means good feed for the pigs and for the cows, too, for that matter." "I recant, I recant," cried Abby ; " and so encour- aged, I also will renew my glass." CHAPTER VII. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. " I HOPE j-o's gwine to hab mo' ob dem talks 'boout de insecks, Mars MaytieP." So Dan greeted me a few days after our first fireside meetiug. He twirled his battered hat brim tlu'ough his horii}- hands, then ru])bed a white palm against the back of his grizzled locks, ducked his head forward and continued: " I doan jes kno' w'at yo 'd call 'em, sah, but Sar}^ Ann 'lowed dey's say-an^-saijs. ' An' w'at are say-an''-says, Sary Ann?' says I. 'Wal,' says she, 'day's a sort ob free an' easy kine o' talk, w'ar yo says, an' den I says, an' all jine in an' helps de talk along. Now dat 's a powerful pleasant kine ob affar. Mars Mayfield, an' suits us 'ns lieap better 'n loafin' rouu' de kentry store, an' sich. So we uns — dat 's Hugh's folks an' Sary Ann an' me — we makes bold to ax yo, wouldn't yo 'low us de priv'lege ob jinin' in de say-an^-saiis, in case yo gwine to hab mo' ob 'cm, an' we sincerely hope yo is." "Why, Han, I haduH thought much about it," I answered. "But you maybe .sure if there should be any more ' say-an'-says,' you all will be welcome to the fireside." "T'ank yo, sah ; we 's all powe'ful 'bleegcd to yuh, 103 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 103 FIG. 34. — THE GEOMETRID HORROR. — p. 104. an' hopes we '11 hab de pleasure ob yo company at anoder conbersashull family fireside say-an'-say, bery soon." Although I laughed at Dan's magniloquence, I was more gratified at that hearty honest approval of my humble dependents than I had often been before at commendations of cultured friends. To be sure, I learned by-and-by that the Mistress was also in the plot, and that Dan's praises were in good part an echo of her promptings ; but the pleasure of the moment was not dimmed by that knowledge. Thus it came about that the next Saturday evening found our house- 104 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. hold gathered in the old sitting-room for another ento- mological ' seance. ' Where Sarah had picked up that word, and how she had managed to transform it. we never learned, but we were all so impressed with the superiority of her version, that the cook's title was at once naturalized, and ' the Tenant's Sa3'-an'says ' be- came one of the current phrases of our little realm when we were in a merry mood, " I have here a specimen," I began, "plucked from a straggling sprig of wood-wax or dyer's weed {Genista tinctoria) which represents a very familiar race of cater- pillars, the Geometers, or span-worms. They are so called from the mode of walking peculiar to the larvae. Most of these have only ten legs, six of which are jointed and tapering, under the fore part of the body, and four fleshy prop legs at the hinder extremity. There are no legs 'on the middle of the body, and con- sequently the caterpillars are imable to crawl in the usual manner. When one wishes to advance it grasps the object firmly with its fore feet, and then draws up the hind feet close to them, not unlike the attitude of a cat which meets a strange dog. The hinder feet then take a firm hold and the body is projected forward until the fore feet can repeat the process. This mode of progression is popularly called ' loop- ing,' and the caterpillars are called ' loopors.' " The Geometers live as larva* on trees and bushes, and most of them undergo their transformations in the ground, to reach which by traveling along the branches and down the trunk by their peculiar gait would be a MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 105 long and todious journey. But they are not reduced to this necessit}', for they have the power of letting themselves down from any height by means of a silken thread whicli tliey spin from their mouths while falling. Whenever they are disturbed they malve use of this FIG. 35. — ORGTIA LEUCOSTIGMA, TDSSOCK MOTH. MALE. FEMALE AND LARVA, NATURAL SIZE. — ^/). lOfi. faculty, drop down suddenly and hang suspended till the danger is past, after which they climb up again by the same thread." " These, then," said the Mistress, "are the little 100 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM creatures that used to make a, promenade along our streets in summer a horror to ladies before the advent of the sparrows V" " The very same ; but I doubt whether citizens have made a favorable exchange for the pretty hairy creeper, the caterpillar of the Tussock-moth {Onjijialeiu^osligma), (Fig. 35), that now fills the squares, fences and walls with its knobby white cocoons." (Fig. 36). '' Why, don't the sparrows eat //;o», too?" asked Abby. "Ah, a mere question of taste. The soft, smooth, Geometers ai'e a dainty bit to the birds, and the plumed crawlers are not at all to their liking. Why, I have seen the very bird-boxes in the jniblic square covered with the Tussock-moth's cocoons— crown- ed with their white egg-masses. Were the caterpillars crawling at their verj" doors, and their hungry fledglings gaping for food, ^^'^' the iiarent birds would come COCOON OF TUSSOCK MOTH, NATURAL SIZE, liomc witliout suppllcs ratlicr than forage upon the Orgyia worms. So the larvK breed securely and in yearly increasing numbers. " If a little wise energy and forethouglit could be shown by the city authorities in this matter, the evil could soon be remedied. The chief f '. : es of these cocoons MEAmRE FOR 3IEASURE. 107 fire tlie iron fences around the squares, the trunks of trees, the walls and fence cornices of adjacent properties. If tliese were thoroughly cleansed, tlie cocoons scraped out and burned in winter, there would be a scant crop of span-worms in summer. For several years I have watched these troublesome cocoons advancing a little further each season up the trunks of the trees and mul- tiplying along public places, and I have more than once predicted that the nuisance would ere long be well-nigh intolerable. But an American city, like Issachar among the tribes, is a ' strong ass crouching down between two burdens,' who sees 'that rest is good ' and ' bows his slioulders to bear,' and hardly even exercises the healthy Anglo-Saxon right of grumbling at official ignorance , and neglect. So canker-worms — not those alone which are comparatively harmless, but those of the moral, social and political sort — breed in public places, crawl unmolested through every highway and byway, and spin and nest in all departments of communal administration and life. Alas ! Well, 'a stitch in time saves nine.' " "And there are some citizens," cried the Mistress, apparently quite oblivious of my figurative speech and philosophy, and reverting to tlie encroacliments of the Orgyia, " who allow those dreadful worms to crawl up their very walls and doorways and build cocoons under the mouldings and ledges of doors and windows quite unmolested. I see hundreds of them housed in such places the entire year. Such house-keep- ing ! I can't understand how ladies will tolerate it." "Perhaps," suggested Abby, "they tolerate the 108 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. worms oiitot'the s;iiuu luercifuluess from which they feed the vixeuish sparrows who refuse to kill the worms." ''A truce to our moralizing," I said ; '' let us return to our span-worm hanging from the tree. The manner in which it ascends its thread is most interesting. In order to do this it bends back its head and catches hold of the thread above its head with one of the legs of the third segment of the body. It then raises its head and seizes the thread with its jaws and forelegs, and by repeating the same operations with tolerable rapidity it soon reaches its former station on the tree. There is another interesting habit which these Geom- eters possess ; when not eating, many of them can rest on the two hindermost pairs of legs against the side of a l)ranch, and stretching out the body nearly horizontal!}', remain in that position for hours, so that they might easily be mistaken for the twig of a tree. If Joe and Harry would like to get some slight idea of the muscular force required to perform this action, let them grasp an up- right pole with their hands and try to hold the body out horizontally. The feats of trained gymnasts in the circus ring or turnverein are fairly outdone by these despised s2)an-worms. I think that you will agree with me that they are interesting little fellows. Moreover, notwithstanding the disgust with which, as the Mistress sajs, the city folk used to regard them as they dropped from the trees, I venture that there are plenty of people who would rather welcome their presence than other- wise. Perhaps some of our young people can tell us why V" MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 1C9 "I can, sir," Harry answered promptly. "Jenny used to say that it was a sign we were goin' to git a new coat when one oi t li e m caterpillars was seen steppin' off distance on our •^sl^^'^ FIG. .37. — OUR IMPORTED PROTECTORS, MUTUAL DISGUST. — ^;. 106. English Sparrow to Irish Guardian of American Peace — " Do your own nahsty work, sir ; H'english sparrows, sir, didu't come 'ere to eat hup your nalisty H'american worms 1" arms or back. We call them 'measurra' worms'" on that account." " Yes, that is the idea : a new coat when seen meas- Liring the arms or back, a new pair of gloves when seen looping on the hand, and so through the whole suit. I fear that, like many another local prophet, their promise is better than their fulhllment. However, we 110 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. cannot deny that in tlie proper season they are very diligent in suggesting tlie subject of new clothes to all passers-by who credit their prophetic oftice." "A quality, by-the-way," said Al»by, "which they share in common with the ' Barkers' in front of ]\Iarket Street and Chatham Street clothing stores. And, like 'Barkers,' I imagine that their attentions are more respected by country folk than city people." "Here is another of the Looper tribe, or rather a mother-moth, which fortunately I have been able to collect. I have two specimens, and the}' are mounted upon this bit of cork. Pass them around the circle and 'st all have a good look at them. They are not very familiar creatures in their moth or perfect form, but they are quite too well known in the larval state. Come, Miss Abby, j-ou seem to be studying that speci- men very closely, and mean- while Hugh is anxious to see it, and will be much more so when he learns what it is. AVhat is the matteC now V" I asked, as the Schoolteacher shook her head and handed the insect to Hugh, with an incri'dul- ous' Humph!' "My poor moth appears to have ex- cited your indignation!" (Fig. 38.) " Truly so," replied Abby. "I confess myself a tyro F >"%5x -a»«<-^.»^' - I — \ MOTIIEIi . Moni MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Ill FKi. o'J. — A GEOMETUIU TCKNVKKEIN.— ^). 108. in all branches of entomology, and it would be a sorry victory for a specialist who should impose on me. But really, I think that I have learned enough even within the last few days to prevent you palming that creature upon me as a iiioth. Why, it doesn't resemble that in- sect in the least." 112 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARJf. " So say I," echoed the Mistress. " And what says Hugh ?" I asked, as the sturdy fel- low turned the insect around slowly and carefully scru- tinized it on all sides. "Well, sir, I — I begin to find that 1 know so leetle 'bout the commonest sorts o' critters that I don't like to venture a 'pinion. But cj that 's a moth, I reckon you 've pulled its wings off. "Not a bad guess," I said, laughing. " But I assure you that it is a moth, and that I have not pulled its wings off. However, not to keep you in suspense, I may tell you that in certain ^^l)ecies of moths the female is iciug- k'ss. The pretty feathered caterpillar that we spoke of a little while ago as now infesting our puljlic squares has a wingless mother. This is another example ; it is a veritable moth, the female of a species known as the orchard moth [Anisopteryx pometaria^ Harris), a variety perhaps of the vernal moth {Anisaptyrex vernata^ Peck). It is the mother of our northern canker-worm." " The canker-worm? Indeed !" exclaimed Hugh. " I^et nu! look at the creatur' again, please. .Well, well ! who would have tho't such pestiferous gangs uv varmin "d a-sprung from a mite uv a beast like that !" (Fig. 40.) "For my part.'' said the Mistress, "I think her quite ugly enough to be the mother of any kind of odious creature. Moreover, I shall owe her an addi- tional grudge because our good professor here used her to victimize so mercilessl}' his confiding pupils. Think what our Schoolma'am — " "Oh, dear, no!" inlcrrupled Al>l)y, smilin^i^ good- MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 113 naturedl3\ "I decidedly deserved it; and, loesides, I practice similar modes of impressing facts upon my pupils, and as it serves admirabl}', I can't complain in this case. I am sure that I, at least, will not forget that some mother- moths are wingless." ''Very good, then; since I am full}' ab- solved, I may resume our story. I captured these specimens as they were making their way ' '. up one of our apple '"'4^»/^ I a trees, having just left ,n the "I'ound in which FIG. 40. — OKCHARD MOTH, WING- '^ LESS FEMALE, WINGED MALE, they had maturcd. It AND LAKVA. was formerly supposed that the canker-worm moths came out of the ground only in the spring. It is now known that many of them rise in the autumn and early part of the win- ter. In mild and open winters I have seen them in every month from October to March. They begin to make their appearance after the first hard frosts in the Fall, usually toward tlie end of October and continue to come forth in numbers according to the mildness of the weather after the frosts have begun. "However, their general time of rising is in the spring, beginning about the middle of March, and they continue to come forth for the space of about three 114 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. weeks. The sluggish females instinctively make their way to the nearest trees, and creep slowly up their trunks. Their husbands, having better facilities for traveling, inasmuch as they are winged, delay their ad- vent a few days, when they also leave their earthen cells and join the females, tluttering about and accom- panying them in their ascent. " Soon after this the females lay their eggs upon the branches of the trees. They place them on their ends close together in rows, forming clusters of from sixty to one hundred eggs or more, which is the number usually laid by each female. The eggs are glued to each other and to the bark by a grayish varnish which is impervious to water ; and the clusters are thus securely fastened in the forks of the small branches, or close to the young twigs and buds. The eggs are usually hatched between the first and the middle of May, or about the time that the red currant is in blossom and the young leaves of the apple-tree begin to start from the bud and grow. The liltk' canker-worms, upon making their escajoe from the eggs, gather upon the tender leaves and begin to eat. If there comes a snap of cold, and during rain}- weather, they creep for shelter into the bo^om of the Inid, or into the tlowers when Ihey appear. The leaves first attac^ked will be found pierced with small holes ; these become larger and more irregular wlien the eanker-worms increase in size, and at last nearly all tln' pulpy parts are consumed, leaving little more than the midrib and veins. "The worms when well f » d grow to be an inch long; MEASURE FOR MEASURE. ' ' ' ■' /// ' ' ' §\l§ii\\\ki^im 1 1^' 115 FIG. 41. — THE CLOTHES BARKER'S PAR.VDISE.— 73. 110. they quit eating when nbout four weeks old, and begin to leave the trees ; some creep down by the trunk, but great numbers let themselves down by threads from the branches, their instinct prompting them to get to the ground by the most direct and easiest course.'" " Oh. yes," said Joe, "• I have seen them hanging tiiat way from the branches that jut across the r(jad. It kept us dodging to get rid uv 'em as we drove along." "Aye, and I doubt not you helped nature in disturb- ing the little fellows along the road-side, for they lay hold upon passing objects and are carried goodly dis- tances before shaken off. When they reach the ground they immediately burrow in the I'artli to tlic depth of 116 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. from two to six inches, and make little cavities or cells by turning around repeatedly and fastening the loose grains of earth about them with a few silken threads. Within twenty-four hours afterward, they are changed to crysalids in their cells, where, as we have seen, they transform in the autumn and winter as well as spring. They usually come out of the ground in the night, when the females may be seen straggling through the grass from various points of the area bounded by the spread of the branches, and making toward the trunk." "You didn't tell us what becomes of the mother- moths," suggested Harry. " There is little more to be said about them, for they are very short-lived ; when they have laid their eggs they begin to languish, and soon die." " You spoke of the worms takin' to the apple-trees," said Hugh, " but I find thet they aren't very pertikler in their tastes, so 's they kin git a holt 'v suthin' thet damages the farmer. I 've found "em on the cherry and plum, and they 're special fond uv the elm." ~ " That is true ; and you might extend their bill of fare to some other cultivated and native trees, as well as many shrubs." " Is this the canker-worm of which we read in the Bible V" asked the Mistress. " It seems to have been a great scourge to the people of Palestine and those parts." " It is not easy to answer that question. The exact meanings of words used in the Hebrew Testament to express all forms of animal life, are hard to determine. Some have supposed the word translated ' cankei*- MEASiURE FOR MEASURE. 117 worm ' to refer to the locust or at least to the larva of the locust ; but the words rendered ' palmer-worm' and ' caterpillar ' seem to have had reference to some species of canker-worm.''' "I should like it amazingl}' if you could tell me liow to get rid of the varmin," remarked Hugh. "Practical entomology is not much in my line," I answered, "and I fear that such a theme would not greatly interest the majority of our little circle. But I can tell you of an ancient remedy that was supposed to be very effective. In the early part of the seventeenth century the peasants in many places in Germany took this mode : they pulled a stake froni a hedge, looped around it a rope which they rapidly drew back and forth until the friction kindled it into a flame. This they carefully fed with stubble and dry wood. "When the bonfire had quite burned out the peasants collected the ashes and spread them over their garden vegetables, confident that by this means they could drive away the canker-worm. This fire they called the 'Xodfeur,' or, as we might sa}^, the ' jSfeed-fire.' " "You don't mean to say, sir," asked Hugh, "that you think the Nodfeur ashes really did any good in keeping off the canker-worms?" "Why not?" I inquired. "Tut, tut!" exclaimed the Mistress. "I am sure you don't indorse any such nonsense. It was pure superstition that prompted the custom, and you haven't much of that element in your mental make-up, I know well. ■' 118 TE2VAJVTS 0?^ AN OLD FARM. "The question.'' I rejoiiR-d, '• was not whether tlie eustoni originated in or wns maintained b}' superstition, but whether the Nodfeur aslies were benefieial ; and I answer that confidently in the airirniative. If one were to spi'inkle such material upon the veo;etables when covered with the morning dew it wf)uld adhere to the leaves and thus make them distasteful to the caterpillars. This says nothing of the effect of the ])otash in the ashes, whi(;h may l)e injurious, nor of the dislike of larva? and, indeed, of many insects to move over surfaces covered with pulverized matter. I attribute nothing at all, of course, to the effect of the/(t/r/(, but much to the protec- tion given by making the natural food-plant ol)noxious to the Avorms. "There is anolher element wliich enters into the utility of this and all like remedies. IMany 3'ears ago I read an incident which illustrates my thought. I re- peat it from memory, and cannot vouch for all the de- tails, but give the substance of the story as I remember it. A noble German lady found that despite her best endeavor there was a vast wastage in her household and a consequent trenching upon her limited income. At last she went to a hermit famous for godliness and wisdom, and asked for a charm to protect her frora this grief. The good man gave her a little sealed box, containing the required charm, instructing her to place the same in one corner of every room in her house and out-buildings once every day, varying as much as pos- sible the hour of her daily visit. He bade her, also, return at the end of a year to report results. MEAHURE FOR MEASURE. 119 "A year passed and the lady returned with good news and a grateful offering. The charm had wrought wonders. Her household was never in such goodly condition, the wastage had stopped, the continual anx- iety over insufficient income had ceased, her husband was delighted, her neighbors full of praise. She begged for a renewal of the charm, declaring that she would not be without it for much mone}^ " The monk broke the seal and showed the contents of the box. It was empty! 'See,' he said, 'there is no charm here ! That which has wrought the good re- sults over which you rejoice, has been your own care for every part of your house. As you went to each room you saw what was needed and supplied it, wh?i,t was wrong and righted it. Your eyes were upon all your men and maids, as well as on their work every da}-, and they felt the influence of this oversight. There has been no other charm than this, and you need no other. Go, lady, and henceforth hold faithfully to the rule and habit of the past year, and be assured that your home will be a well-ordei"ed, prosperous and happy one.' " "Truly," said the Mistress, "that was a wise old monk. I can vouch for it that a constant personal inspection of all one's house, especially of the cuddies and corners, will work like a charm toward good housekeeping. But really, I don't quite take the ap- plication of your story to the German peasants and their canker-worms." " Indeed ! Then you are not apt as usual to see a point. In fighting insect pests it is precisely as in 120 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. h()ii8L'l