UC-NRI
GIFT OF
EYE SPY
AFIELD WITH NATURE
AMONG FLOWERS AND ANIMATE THINGS
BY
WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON
ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1897
v^
Copyright, 1897, by HARPER & BROTHERS^
All rights reserved.
Page
A Naturalist 's Boyhood xt
The Story of the Floundering Beetle i
Fox-fire n
A Homely Weed with Interesting Flowers 24
Two Fairy Sponges 34
Green Pansies 44
Mr. and Mrs. Tumble-bug 5J
Those Horse-hair Snakes 64
"Professor Wiggler" 7^
" Cow- spit, Snake-spit, and Frog-spit " 83
The Paper Wasp and His Doings 91
The Spiders Span 104
Ballooning Spiders . 112
The Lace-wing Fly 122
The Perfumed Beetles 130
411465
iv CONTENTS
Page
Mushroom Spore-prints 136
Some Curious Cocoons 145
Nettle-leaf Tent-builders 154
The Evening Primrose 163
The Dandelion Burglar 171
The Troubles of the House-fly 178
Tendrils 185
A Strange Story of a Grasshopper. 195
Riddles in Flowers 202
Luck in Clovers 213
Barberry Manners 221
A Woolly Flock 230
" What Ails Him ?" 238
The Cicada's Last Song 246
Index 257
Page
William Hamilton Gibson Frontispiece
Initial xz
Initial. Bitttercup Leaves i
Three Views of a Helpless Beetle 2
Down Among the Buttercup Leaves j>
An Adventurous Baby 6
The Adopted Home 9
Initial. Fox-fire and Fungus n
A Luminous Fragment ij
Three Specimens by Day 75
Three Specimens by Night ij
A Fox-fire Bugaboo //
The Bugaboo by Daylight 21
Initial. The Figwort 24
A Flower with Three Welcomes 29
Sipping the Nectar. Fig. i ji
In Flight with Pollen. Fig. 2 ji
Transferring the Pollen to Stigma. Fig. j 32
Fifth Day — Pod Enlarging 32
Singular Method of Branching and Flowering j>j>
Initial >
vi LIST OF DESIGNS
Page
The Rose Mischief-maker jj
The Fairy Using Her Magic Wand 36
The Elfin Sponge of the Oak j>p
The Real Fairy of the Oak Sponge 40
The Elfin Sponge of the Brier Rose 42
The Inhabited Rose Sponge 43
Initial. Pansies 44
The Materials 47
Making a Whole Plant Green j/
A Tumbler Concealed Near By 52
Initial. The Sacred Scarabczus 5j>
Mr. and Mrs. Tumble-bug Rolling the Ball 57
Sinking the Ball 61
Young Tumble-bug Digging out from His Dungeon ... 63
Initial 64
Amos 66
Dangerous Ground for Grasshoppers and Crickets . ... 69
Busy Grasshoppers 77
Initial. Lilacs 72
"Professor Wiggler" at Home 74
The Lilac Twig in June 75
Tunnelling the Twig 80
"Professor Wiggler" Moth Si
Initial. Grasses and Weeds 83
The Home of the " Spume-bearer " 87
The Real Culprits 90
Initial. A Nest of the Paper Wasp 91
A Wolf in the Fold 95
He was Hanging Head Downward 99
Off for the Paper Nest 101
Initial. Brooklyn Bridge 104
Bridging the Brook 707
From Tree to Tree 109
Initial. Preparing for Flight 112
LIST OF DESIGNS vii
Page
Draped in the Glittering Meshes 116
Spider-egg Cocoon I2°
Initial. The Lace-wing Fly 122
The Wolf in the Fold 123
A Tempting Aphis Brood 127
Where the Aphides Swarm 128
Initial A Woodland Path 130
The Perfumed Beetles r33
Initial A Spore-print 136
Spore Surface of a Polyporus fJ9
Spore Surface of a Polygaric IJ9
Method of Making Spore-prints 141
Spore-print of a Boletus 143
Initial A Nocturnal Bird 145
From a Correspondent 147
The Contents of the Cocoon 149
Where the Cocoon Came From ijo
" The Owl on Muffled Wing " 152
Initial Nettles 154
Leaf-tents of the "Comma" Caterpillar 757
A Design for a Jeweller 160
Initial The Evening Primrose i6j
Two Kinds of Bitds 166
The Evening Primrose 167
" The Worm z" the Bud" 168
The Chrysalis and its Moth 169
The Substitute for the Bud 170
Initial Dandelions 171
The Nest-builder 175
Initial A Fly Model 178
An Interrupted Toilet 179
An Episode of Fly-time 182
A Victim of Fly Fungus 184
Initial Sweet-6eas 185
viii LIST OF DESIGNS
Page
An Impossible and Real Tendril 186
Grape Tendrils Evolved from Blossoms 188
The Star Cucumber and its Compound Tendrils .... 190
The Prank of a Tendril IQJ
Initial. An Impaled " Quaker " ipj
The Haunt of the Grasshopper /p/
The Birth of the Parasites 200
The Two-formed Flowers 202
Puzzling Forms and Faces 203
A. Fertilization of a Flower, as Believed by Grew and Linnceus 206
B. Linnauss Idea was Wrong 206
C. and D. What Sprengel did not Explain 207
The Way in which the Flower is Fertilized 210
Initial. Clover Leaves 213
A Rowen Field 217
A Five-Leaved Specimen 219
Sleeping Clover 220
Initial. A Barberry Branch 221
"In Arching Bowers" 225
Barberry Blossoms, Showing Sepals and Petals Open. Fig. i 226
Barberry Blossoms, Showing the Approach of the Bee. Fig. 2 228
Initial. A Woolly Flock 230
One of the Flock Magnified 233
A Winged Aphis 235
Initial. Woodbine Branch and Sphinx Caterpillar . . . 238
What Happened the Next Day 241
What He Should Have Become 244
The Mischief -Maker 245
Initial. Bearing Off the Prey 246
A Section of the Sand-bank 252
In the Dungeon 255
EYE SPY
A Naturalist's Boyhood
AM enjoying a book, a picture, a
statue, or, say, a piece of music.
I know these to be the finished
works of the man or the woman,
but I invariably hark back to the
boy or the girl.
What I want to discover is the
precise time, in the lives of cer-
tain boys and girls, when the steel first struck the flint,
the spark flew, and out streamed that jet of fire which
never afterwards was extinguished.
I was reading an article entitled " Professor Wrig-
gler," written by Mr. William Hamilton Gibson, which
appeared in " Harper's Young People," in the number
of October 31, 1893. I need not tell you that both old
and young, at home and abroad, delight in reading what
Mr. Hamilton Gibson has written, because he was not
alone the most observant of naturalists, but a distin-
guished artist and a sympathetic author.
He thus filled a peculiar position in the literary and
artistic world which is seldom given to any one man to
fill. Besides being a naturalist from his boyhood, he
was able to write better than most people what he
wished to write, and to illustrate his articles in a way
that was unique. Mr. Gibson's death a few days ago,
xii A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD
therefore, has closed the career of a man who had the
ability to interest a large number of people not only in
natural history, but in art and literature.
The news of Mr. Gibson's death came to me suddenly,
and as I was reading it I recalled an interesting talk I
had with him less than a year ago about his work early
in life and the way he got his start. I had been read-
ing one of his articles to a lady, who, when she heard
the name of the author, said :
" Why, I knew Mr. Hamilton Gibson long ago. When
he was a lad he painted a lovely drop-curtain for us.
He could not have been more than fifteen or sixteen
then."
The next time I met Mr. Hamilton Gibson I asked
him about this drop-curtain. " Do you remember it ?"
" Certainly I do. We had a temperance society at
Sandy Hook, Connecticut, and we gave a grand enter-
tainment. I made the drop-curtain. It represented a
wood. There was a rock in the foreground, and a Vir-
ginia-creeper was climbing over it."
"Was it an original composition?" I asked.
" I made many studies of the rock and the Virginia-
creeper from nature. On the other side of the curtain
I painted a drawing-room. There were a marble mantel-
piece, a clock, and lace curtains. I don't think I enjoyed
painting the clock as much as the Virginia-creeper."
" To paint a drop-curtain at fifteen or sixteen means
that you had then a certain facility. But that could
not have been your beginning. When did you break
your shell ? What chipped or cracked your egg so that
your particular bird emerged, chirped, and finally took
flight? That was what I wanted to know."
"Is that what you are after?" asked Mr. Hamilton
A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD xm
Gibson. " From my baby days I was curious about
flowers and insects. The two were always united in my
mind. What could not have been more than a child-
ish guess was confirmed in my later days." Then Mr.
Hamilton Gibson paused. I could see he was recalling,
not without emotion, some memories of the long past.
" I was very young, and playing in the woods. I
tossed over the fallen leaves, when I came across a
chrysalis. There was nothing remarkable in that, for I
knew what it was. But, wonderful to relate — providen-
tially I deem it — as I held the object in my hand a but-
terfly slowly emerged, then fluttered in my fingers."
" You were pleased with its beauty," I said.
" Oh ! It was more than that. I do not know
whether I was or was not a youngster with an imagina-
tion, but suddenly the spiritual view of a new or of an-
other life struck me. I saw in this jewel born from an
unadorned casket some inkling of immortality. Yes,
that butterfly breaking from its chrysalis in my hand
shaped my future career."
" But some young people may feel passing impulses, but
how account for your artistic skill and literary powers ?"
" As to the art side, at least deftness of hand came
early. I had the most methodical of grandmothers.
Every day I had a certain task. I made a square of
patch-work for a quilt. I learned how to sew, and I can
sew neatly to-day. I knew how to use my fingers."
"Did you like patch-work?" I inquired.
" I simply despised it. Sewing must have helped me,
for it was eye-training, and when I went to work with a
pencil and a paint-brush I really had no trouble. I read
a great deal. I devoured Cooper's novels and the Rollo
series ; but there was one special volume, " Harris on
xiv A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD
Insects," I never tired of. I studied that over and
over again. It was the illustrations of Marsh which fas-
cinated me. I never found a bug, caterpillar, or butter-
fly that I did not compare my specimens with the
Marsh pictures. I learned this way much which I have
never forgotten."
" Had you any particular advantages ?"
"Yes; my brother was a doctor, and he let me use
his microscope, and so I acquired a knowledge of the
details of flowers and insects that escape the naked eye.
I pulled flowers to pieces, but not in the spirit of de-
struction, but so that I might better understand their
structure. When I was ten I had a long illness. When
I was getting better I was permitted to take an hour's
or so turn in the garden. That hour I devoted to col-
lecting insects and flowers. On my return to my room,
what I had collected amused me until I could get out
again next day or the day after."
" It was pleasure and study combined," I said.
" I was not conscious that I was studying. Then in
my sick-room I began to draw and paint the insects.
I think I was conscientious about it, and careful — per-
haps minutely so. I tried to put on paper exactly what
I saw, and nothing else. You say you like ' Professor
Wriggler.' I drew him when I was ten or eleven, and I
could not make him any more accurate to-day than I
did thirty years ago."
" Were you encouraged at your work?" I inquired.
" Yes ; once I was much pleased. I came across a
curious insect. I could not find it in the books. I
made a drawing of it and sent it to a professor of the
Smithsonian, asking him to give me its scientific name.
Back came by return mail my sketch, and under it the
A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD xv
Latin name. The professor wrote me that if the peo-
ple who were always annoying him with pictures of im-
possible bugs would only send him as accurate a picture
as was mine, he never would have any more bother."
" Did you have any setbacks?"
"Yes; and I haven't forgotten it up to to-day. I
was always collecting, and I had brought together every
insect I had found in my neighborhood. As I took
them home I pinned them in the drawers of an old-
fashioned bureau. In time the whole of the drawers,
bottom and sides, were full of pinned specimens, and
there was room for no more. I had saved enough
money to buy a cabinet, and I went to New York and
purchased one. When I returned home the first thing
I did was to look at my precious collection. When I
opened a drawer there was a confused mass of wings
only. One single wretch of a black ant had got in, and
had passed the word to 10,000 other black ants. They
had eaten the bodies of my insects in all the drawers.
That quite broke my heart."
" But your writing. How did that come about?" I
asked.
" I don't think that you can develop in one direction
only. You must unbosom yourself. You are forced to
tell or to write about the things you have most at heart.
When I was a small boy I wrote a book for myself, and
called it * Botany on the Half-shell.' The first thing I
ever wrote which was printed was an article for one of
Messrs. Harper's publications, and I made the pictures
for it. That was my debut."
" Then your work went hand in hand?"
" Certainly. The one was the stimulant of the other..
We all grew up together. The days spent in my room
xvi A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD
when I was ill helped me. I think I studied flowers
then, so that their forms and colors were indelibly im-
pressed on my mind. When I was older I made a
small bunch of flowers in wax. Not a detail escaped
me. I made moulds of all kinds of leaves. Once I put
together a rose, some sprigs of mignonette and helio-
trope in wax, and gave them to my dear old friend,
Henry Ward Beecher. He was delighted with my flow-
ers, and put them on his study table. Presently Mrs.
Beecher came in. She ran to the flowers and broke the
rose all to pieces."
" How could she have done that?" I asked.
" It must have been with her nose. She wanted to
smell the rose."
Then Mr. Hamilton Gibson showed me some monster
drawings of flowers — Brobdingnagian ones. The flow-
ers opened and closed when you pulled a string, show-
ing their interior structure. Here were bees or other
insects, and they flew into the flowers, collected the
honey, and, above all, the pollen, and buzzed out again.
He explained to me how plant life would perish if it
were not for certain insects, which bring a new exist-
ence to flowers ; for without these winged helpers there
would be no longer any varieties of flowers or seeds.
You will see, then, that in tracing the beginning of
Mr. Hamilton Gibson's career what I mean by harking
backward.
I am certain, too, that in every boy and girl there is
something good and excellent. Like the flower visited
by the bee, all it wants is impulse. Then, as Mr. Ham-
ilton Gibson explained it to me, will come the blossom-
ing, and lastly perfect fruitage.
BARNET PHILLIPS.
MONG my somewhat numerous corre-
spondence from young people, I recall
several wondering inquiries about a certain fat,
floundering "beetle," as "blue as indigo"; and
when we consider how many other observing
youngsters, including youngsters of larger growth,
have looked upon this uncouth shape in the path,
lawn, or pasture, will speculate as to its life his-
tory, it is perhaps well to make this floundering
blue beetle better acquainted with his unappre-
ciative neighbors.
What are the lazy blue insects doing down
there in the grass, for there are usually a small
family of them. With the exception of their tin-
selled indigo -blue coat, there is certainly very
little to admire in them. But what they lack in
beauty they make up for in other ways. There
are many of their handsomer cousins whose his-
EYE SPY
tory is not half as interesting as that of this poor
beetle that we tread upon in the grass. His
neighbor insect, the tiger- beetle, running hither
and thither with legs of wonderful speed, and
with the agility of a fly on the wing, readily es-
capes our approach ; but this clumsy, helpless
blue beetle must needs plead for mercy by his
color alone, because he has no means to avert our
crushing step. A little girl who
/ met me on the country road re-
• "' cently summed up the
characteristics of the blue
beetle pretty well. The
portrait was unmistak-
|, able. " I've got a fun-
ny blue bug at home
in a box that I want
to show you," said she ;
" he's blue and awful
fat, and hasn't got any wings, but
when you touch him, he just turns
over on his back, and trembles his toes and leaks
big yellow drops out of his elbows." I have shown
her beetle — three views of him, in fact — about the
natural size, one of them on his back and " leak-
ing " at his elbows, for such is the infallible habit
of the insect when disturbed — a trick which has
also given him the name of the " oil beetle." He
is also known as the indigo beetle.
But of what use
can such a queer
beetle be to himself
or any one else — a
beetle that is not
only without wings,
but is so fat and
floundering that he
can hardly lift his
unwieldy body from
the ground, and
which, upon being
surprised, can only
"play possum," and
exude great drops of
oil (?) upon our palm
as we examine him ?
But as he pours
the vials of his wrath
upon us he would
4 EYE SPY
doubtless fain have us understand that he was not
always thus unable to take care of himself, that
he was not always the clumsy, crawling creature
that he now is. As he lies there on his back, the
yellow, oily globules of surplus " elbow grease "
swelling larger and larger at his leaky elbows, and
one by one falling on the paper beneath him, we
may almost fancy the monologue which might be
going on in that blue head of his.
" Yes, I am indeed a clumsy creature," he might
be saying, as he stares upward into our faces with
fixed indigo eyes, " and my cumbersome body is
a burden. But I was not always what you now
see. Ah, you should have seen me as a baby !
Was there ever such a lively, acrobatic, venture-
some, plucky baby as I, even when I was a day
old ? Shall I tell you some of my feats ? Every-
body knows me as I am now ; but I have taken
care that few shall learn my earlier history. It
takes a sharp eye to follow my pranks of baby-
hood, and no one has been smart enough to do it
yet, but I will at least let you into the secret of
my life as far as it has been found out. I am
little over a year old. I was born under a stone
in a meadow last April, when I crept out of a
golden-yellow case so small that you could hardly
see it. I believe your books say I was about a
sixteenth of an inch long at that time. Ah ! when
I think of what I was and what I could do then,
THE STORY OF THE FLOUNDERING BEETLE 5
and look at what I am now, I sometimes wonder
whether that lively babyhood of mine has not all
been a mocking dream.
" Do you wonder that I am as blue as indigo,
and am occasionally forced to resort to my oil-
tank to still the troubled waters of my later expe-
rience ? Well, as I was saying (pardon this fresh
display of tears), when I crept out of that filmy
egg-sac I was just ready for anything, and spoil-
ing for adventure. I found myself with a slender,
agile body of thirteen joints, and three pairs of
the sprightliest, spider-like legs you ever saw, each
tipped with three little sharp claws. Now I knew
that these long legs and claws were not given to
me at this early babyhood for nothing, so I looked
about for something to try them on. I had not
a great while to wait, for as I crept along through
the grass roots beneath the edge of the stone, I
heard a welcome sound, which is music to all
babies of my kind. I remembered having heard
the same music in my dreams while inside the
little yellow case, but now it seemed louder than
ever, and in another minute I was almost blown
off my feet by the breeze which the noise made,
and a great black, hairy giant, as big as a house,
pounced down just outside the stone. He had
a great black head, and six enormous legs as
big round as trees. Think how a bumblebee
would look to a wee baby not half as big as a
EYE SPY
hyphen in one of your books ! Did I run when
I saw him coming? Not a bit of it. I just
waited until he came close to me, and then I
jumped on his back, and put those eighteen little
claws of mine to good use as I crept over his
great spiny body, and finally found a snug rest-
ing-place beneath it. And then I waited, cling-
ing tightly with my clutching feet. In another
moment I had begun to take my first outing;
and did ever baby have such a ride, and to such
music! After the bumblebee had remained un-
der the stone a little while he turned and went
t
THE STORY OF THE FLOUNDERING BEETLE J
out again. No sooner did he get to the edge
than he spread his great buzzing wings, and away
we went over the world, higher and higher, miles
high, over big oceans and mountains. I could
see them all beneath me as I clung to the under-
side of the bee. I believe I must finally have got
dizzy and faint, for I remember at last finding
myself at rest in a queer thicket of greenish poles
with big yellow balls at the top of them, and
great giant leaves fringed with long, glistening
hairs. They told me afterwards it was a willow
blossom.
" It seemed a very good place to rest, so I
dropped off from my bee and remained. Every-
where about me, as I looked, the air was yellow
with these blossoms, and full of the wing -music
of the bees. But, as I have said, I was a restless
baby, and having had a taste of travel I soon tired
of this idle life, and began to get ready for another
ride. My chance soon came. This time it was a
honey-bee. She alighted in the flower next to
mine, but I quietly piled over and clutched upon
her leg, and was soon snugly tucked away under
her body, with my flat head between its segments.
And now for the first time I began to feel hun-
gry ; and what was more natural than to take a
bite from the tender flesh of this bee, so easily
available ? I did it, and liked it so well that I
adopted this bee for my mother for quite a long
EYE SPY
while, taking many, many long rides every day,
and always coming back to the prettiest little
house on a bench under the trees. This was a
sort of bee hotel, with many hundreds of guests.
It was all partitioned off inside into little six-sided
rooms, and the walls were so thin that you could
see through them. Indeed, I soon came to like
this little home so well that one morning I de-
cided that I would not leave it again. I had
begun to get tired of my roving life. I saw a lot
of little white fat babies tucked away in some of
these little rooms, and this very bee which I had
adopted as my mother was engaged in bringing
food to some of these babies and sealing them up
in their nests. This was enough for me. I con-
cluded to bring my roving habit to a close, and
become a bee baby in truth ; so watching for my
opportunity, I loosened my clutch upon the moth-
er bee, and dropped into one of the little rooms.
" Then I became sleepy, and can tell you noth-
ing more than that when I woke up I didn't
know who or what I was. My six spider legs
had gone, and I had a half-dozen little short feet
instead ; and instead of the sprightly ideas of my
baby days, the thought of such a thing as even
moving was a bore. But I was hungrier than ever,
and the first thing I did was to fall upon another
fat youngster who disputed the room with me,
and make short work of him. That was breakfast.
IU>';
v*.
3BPK*
When dinner-
time came, I
found it right
at my mouth.
That busy
mother of mine
had fully supplied my wants, and packed my room
full to the ceiling with the most delicious, fragrant
bread of flowers made of pollen and honey.
" Oh, those were good old times, with all I
wanted to eat all the time, and everything I ate
10 EYE SPY
turning to appetite ! Too soon, too soon I found
myself getting drowsy again, and, I can only re-
member awakening from a queer dream, to find
even my six tiny legs gone, and, what is worse, my
mouth also. While wondering and hoping that
this was but a troubled vision, I was plunged into
sleep again, and dreamed that I was locked up in
a mummy-case for over a week. And now comes
the end, the cycle of my story. From this night-
mare mummy-case I finally awoke — awoke, and
emerged as you now see me. Do you wonder
that I have had the blues ever since at the memo-
ry of those honeyed days, now forever fled ? In-
stead of sporting aloft in airy skyward flights,
I am now a miserable groundling. Instead of
sweet, fragrant bread of flowers, I am now forced
to break my fast on acrid buttercup leaves. But
I shall live again, with joys several hundred times
multiplied, live again in my children, for whose
jolly time in the autumn I shall soon lay my
plans — golden promises — here in the ground be-
neath the buttercup leaves, close to a burrow
where lives a burly bumblebee.
" But I have not told you all of my history, and
will leave you to fill in the blank spaces, even as
some of the scientists have to do."
HE most recent experience of my
own with the mysterious fox-fire oc-
curred a short time ago in a home-
ward drive with a companion from
a botanizing expedition about twelve miles dis-
tant. It was near ten o'clock. The sky was
overcast, only a stray star of the first magnitude
now and then peeping out from between the rifts
of hazy floating clouds. The new moon, " wi' th'
auld moon i' her arm," had sunk below the
western hills, and so dark had it become that
the road ahead, at best but a faint suggestion,
was occasionally lost for minutes together in the
deepened gloom of the overhanging trees, only
the keener nocturnal vision of the trusted horse
affording the slightest hope of keeping in the
wheel-tracks.
In one of these dark passages we were suddenly
surprised by a gleam of light a few rods ahead to
12 EYE SPY
the left, and in a moment more we were directly
abreast of it. On many previous night-journeys
I had been on the lookout for some such surprise
as this, as yet only rewarded by the tiny sparkle
of the glowworm in the grass. But here, at last,
it came in a shape that I could not have antici-
pated— an upright column of phosphorescence,
brilliant at the upper extremity, and more broken
below for a space of several feet. The brilliancy
of the light may be inferred from the following
query and its answer:
"What is that light yonder?" I asked my com-
panion.
" A lantern reflected in water," was his reply.
The mass of light shone verily like a lantern,
and the present interpretation was somewhat rem-
iniscent of a previous flickering lantern which we
had seen, with its accompaniment of great mag-
nified moving shadows on barn and hay-stack, as
it assisted in the tardy chores of a whistling
farmer lad.
But this light was of a greenish, ghostly hue,
and perfectly motionless, and had withal a certain
weird, uncanny glare, which belongs alone to fox-
fire. It was impossible to locate its distance from
us. It might as easily be one rod as five. I con-
cluded to investigate its source, and, groping my
way through the dewy bushes, soon confronted it.
It seemed to glow with added brilliancy as I ap-
FOX-FIRE
proached it, and as I stood face to face within a
few inches of it no vestige of material surface ap-
peared to sustain it ; it seemed hanging motion-
less in mid-air. I reached out my hand, which
momentarily intervened like a black silhouette
against the
glow, with
which it soon came in
contact. Upon further
investigation, this proved
to be the contact of a mere prosaic fence -post,
which, for some mysterious reason, had been sin-
gled out for glorification among the ten thousand
others of its neighbors and transformed into a pil-
lar of fire. The post was about six inches in diam-
eter, its summit an unbroken mass of light, which
extended in more or less broken patches below for
a distance of six feet, thus suggesting the effect of
the rippling elongated reflection of a lantern in
water noticed by my companion, and which would
14 EYE SPY
doubtless have been so accepted by the average
passing observer without further thought.
The most luminous upper portions were free
from bark, the exposed patches of wood below
being equally brilliant. Clutching at the more
available part of the post, I was enabled to sink
my fingers deep into its decayed fibre, and suc-
ceeded in tearing off a long fragment. The outer
surface of this particular piece had been covered
with bark and not especially brilliant, but the cav-
ity of yielding moist fibre thus exposed, as well as
the inner surface of the dislodged piece, poured
forth a perfect flood of greenish light, indicating
that the damp uncanny fire extended to the very
core of the post, which was saturated with the
phosphorescent essence. I laid this and other
fragments in the back of the carriage, where its
glare met our eyes whenever we turned to look
upon it.
Taking it beneath the lamp-light upon our re-
turn home, it resolved itself into a very ordinary
piece of yellowish rotten wood. In a more shaded
corner of the room it appeared as though white-
washed, and upon taking it into a closet or out
into the night again its flame gradually rekindled,
as though feeding upon the darkness, until it ap-
peared precisely as when we found it.
By enclosing the specimen in a tin box with
moist moss I was enabled to prolong the efful-
FOX-FIRE
gence until the next even-
ing, but it had entirely dis-
appeared by the following
night, at which time its
original haunt, the post, was
also doubtless lost in the
darkness. A week later I
again passed its neighbor-
hood in the late
hours without
the slightest hint
of its presence.
This is the mysterious " fox-fire " or " ghost-
fire " which has so imposed upon the imagina-
tions of credulous country folk the world over,
doubtless a conspicuous factor in many a har-
rowing tale in the legendary or traditional lore
of spooks and
goblins.
I remember
the breathless
interest with
which as a boy
I listened to the
weird story,
whose scene
was located not
far from my na-
tive town, of a
1 6 EYE SPY
ghostly light that flickered about the eaves of a
certain old ruin of a house in the neighborhood,
and also above the well close by in the weedy
waste of the former door-yard.
The light was seen by many for several con-
secutive nights. It fairly glowed into a halo up
from the wooden curb which surmounted the well,
where it was viewed at a safe distance with bated
breath by a curious crowd of villagers, not one of
whom would have dared to steal up and surprise
the innocent spook in its haunt — doubtless a mass
of fox-fire which had found its brief, congenial
home in the decaying boards within the tottering
well-curb. Of course the house was "haunted"
for evermore, and rustic tradition for a whole
generation was rich in fabulous tales of the
" haunted well," and there was serious talk of
unearthing the nameless mystery which lay at
the bottom of it.
A certain saw-mill was also tenanted by a simi-
lar luminous ghost one night after a heavy rain,
but the shape of the spook in this case was so
peculiar, and so exactly corresponded with the
parallel cross-boxes of the old broken water-wheel,
that it was considered harmless.
But it is scarcely to be wondered at that a phe-
nomenon so startling and inexplicable to the rustic
mind should be associated with the supernatural.
One's first experience with fox-fire, especially if
I 8 EYE SPY
he chances upon a specimen of some size, is apt
to be a memorable incident.
My own first encounter dates back to the age
of about eight years. While walking through a
wood at night I chanced upon what I supposed to
be a large glowworm in my path. I picked it up,
only to find in my hand a hard piece of dead twig.
A later experience, which, while quite startling
for a moment, was robbed of its full terrors by the
reminiscence of the first. As in the former case,
I was returning home at night through a dark,
damp wood. I was skirting the border of a small
runnel, when I was suddenly brought to a breath-
less standstill, apparently confronted by the glar-
ing eyes of a panther, or perhaps a tiger; certainly
no cat or fox or owl was possessed of eyes of such
dimensions or wide interspace as those which
glared at me from the dark shadow of yonder
copse. But in a moment my quickened pulse had
subsided, and I calmly returned the greenish phos-
phorescent gaze, observing that a singular acci-
dent had re-enforced the first illusion by a won-
derful semblance to ears and outline of body, in
keeping with the formidable eyes.
In a moment I was attacking the foe, my hands
stroking his rough barky forehead, and my fingers
penetrating his eyes, which proved to be two holes
in the bark of a fallen log, the farther side of
which disclosed a brilliant, luminous patch which,
FOX-FIRE IQ
as I invaded it with my hand, proved to be bare,
exposed wood. Taking hold of the loose bark, a
vigorous pull dislodged a great piece some three
feet long, at the same time liberating a glare of
greenish light from the exposed surface of the
log, which was responded to in sympathy by the
inner surface of the slab of bark in my hands, in
all representing about six square feet of brilliant
phosphorescence.
I carried a fragment home, and upon inspect-
ing it by lamp-light, found it white with thready
mould, resembling the so - called " dry - rot " of
mouldy timber — doubtless the mother of some
well-known fungus, or " toadstool," which might
have been discerned upon the log the following
day had I chanced thither.
Hawthorne in one of his books records a re-
markable personal encounter with this weird fox-
fire, and one which cost him dearly. He was on
a journey by canal -boat, which had stopped en
route for a brief period at midnight. During the
interval he had stepped ashore, and was decoyed
into a neighboring wood by the bright glow, which
proved to be a fallen tree ablaze with phosphores-
cence.
In his surprise and interest he lost all ac-
count of time, and thus missed his boat, and
was obliged to " foot it " for miles on the mid-
night tow-path, which he was enabled to do by
20 EYE SPY
the aid of a big brand of the tree which he used
as a flambeau.
Almost any damp wood, especially after a rain,
is likely to disclose its fox-fire, but it occasionally
appears under circumstances where we little ex-
pect it. A few weeks since, having occasion to
go to my refrigerator after dark, I noticed a brill-
iant glowing object upon the floor beneath it,
which I found upon inspection to be merely a
piece of damp bread. Can it be that the yeast
fungus too may give off effulgence with its car-
bonic acid at its whim ? or was the light traceable
to the perceptible odor of lobster with which it
had evidently been previously in contact ?
Dead fish are frequently thus luminous, and
brilliant phosphorescence is often an accompani-
ment of decomposition of both animal and vege-
table matter. A few decaying potatoes will often
light up a corner of a cellar which is dim by day-
light, and an instance is on record of a certain
cellar full of these vegetables giving off such a
flood of light as to lead observers to suppose that
the premises were on fire.
Many animals, and especially fishes and insects,
possess luminous properties. The familiar exam-
ples of the glowworm and fire-fly hardly need be
mentioned. Then there are the big lantern-flies,
with their luminous heads; and brilliant snapping
beetles of the South, with their two glowing head-
FOX-FIRE
21
lights, so effectively employed as ornaments for
the hair and otherwise in the toilet of the Cuban
belle. But the sea is the home of luminous life.
From the diminutive myriads of the noctiluca,
which sets the sea
aflame, to the nu-
merous larger
finny tribes,
the ocean is
v^A 'c*'
peopled
22 EYE SPY
with animal life, which, though dwelling in depths
scarce reached by the faintest gleam from the sun,
swim about enveloped in their self-illumined halo.
While all these phenomena come under the
general term of phosphorescence, the inference of
the presence of phosphorus is incorrect; many
substances without a trace of phosphorus in their
constitution emit light with equal brilliancy.
The well-known commercial article called " lu-
minous paint " is an apt example, which, while
containing no trace of phosphorus, glows like fox-
fire at night, especially after having been exposed
to the sun's rays during the day, giving forth in
the dark hours the light which it has thus ab-
sorbed, and being thus of utility in its application
to clock faces and match-boxes.
Calcined lime and burnt oyster-shells, in com-
bination with certain acids, become luminous at
night by the similar power of absorption and
transmission of light vibration which is supposed
to be the secret of much of the so-called phos-
phorescence.
But fox-fire is believed to be of a different
nature, more chemical in its character, and usu-
ally emanates from a fungus, either visible in the
form of mould or toadstool, or existing as an al-
most invisible essence which saturates the decaying
wood, a species known as Thelaphora cerulea being
credited with most of the luminous manifestations.
FOX-FIRE 23
Fox-fire is occasionally put to a cruel utility by
hunters in association with the "salt-lick" for
deer. Salt is scattered in a selected spot, and a
piece of fox-fire adjusted beyond it in direct line
of the aim of the rifle, which is securely fixed in
place. The sudden obscuration of the light is a
sufficient signal for the still-hunter, who has only
to pull the trigger to secure the game, even though
the latter be entirely hid in the darkness.
The more common examples of fox-fire are
small bits of decayed wood, but most astonishing
specimens have been observed. In addition to
the fine example mentioned by Hawthorne, there
is an authentic record of a single log twenty-four
feet in length and a foot in diameter which was
one mass of brilliant phosphorescence.
A Homely Weed
with
y^l Interesting Flowers
f~
HE recent article from my
pen on the " Riddle of
the Bluets," and which
showed the important
significance of its two
forms of blossoms, sug-
gests that a few more
similar expositions of
the beautiful mysteries
of the common flowers
which we meet every
day in our walks, and
which we claim to
"know" so well, may serve
to add something to the in-
terest of our strolls afield.
It is scarcely fair to assert
that familiarity can breed
contempt in our relations to
A HOMELY WEED 2$
so lovely an object as a flower, but certain it is
that this every -day contact or association, espe-
cially with the wild things of the wood, meadow,
and way-side, is conducive to an apathy which
dulls our sense to their actual attributes of beauty.
Many of these commonplace familiars of the copse
and thicket and field are indeed like voices in the
wilderness to most of us. We forget that the
" weed " of one country often becomes a horticult-
ural prize in another, even as the mullein, for
which it is hard for the average American to get
up any enthusiasm, and which is tolerated with us
only in a worthless sheep pasture, flourishes in
distinction in many an English or Continental
garden as the "American velvet plant."
The extent of our admiration often depends
upon the relative rarity of the flower rather than
upon its actual claims to our appreciation. The
daisy which whitens our meadows — the "pesky
white-weed " of the farmer — we are perfectly will-
ing to see in the windrows of the scythe or tossed
in the air by the fork of the hay - maker. The
meed of our appreciation of the single blossom
becomes extremely thin when spread over a ten-
acre lot. How rarely do we see a bouquet of
daisies on a country table ? And yet, strange in-
consistency! the marguerite of our goodwife's
window -garden, almost identical with the daisy
and not one whit prettier, is a prize, because it
26 EYE SPY
came from the " florist's," and cost twenty - five
cents, with five cents extra for the pot.
A certain thrifty granger of the writer's ac-
quaintance was recently converted from the error
of his attitude towards the " tarnal weeds and
brush." He was one of the tribe of blind, mis-
guided vandals who had always deemed it his
first duty " after hayin' " to invade with his scythe
all the adjacent roadside, to " tidy things up," re-
ducing to most unsightly untidiness that glo-
rious wild garden of August's floral cornucopia,
that luxuriant tangle of purple eupatorium, the
early asters, golden-rod, vervains, wild-carrot, and
meadow-rue.
He was converted in the sanctuary, where one
August Sabbath he beheld by the side of the
pulpit, dignified by a large, beautiful vase, a great
bouquet of this very tall, purple thoroughwort,
meadow-rue, and wild -carrot of his abomination,
and which had actually fallen before his scythe
on the evening previous. " Well, there !" he ex-
claimed; " I didn't realize they was so pretty!"
The beauty of the commonplace often requires
the aid of the artist as its interpreter, a fact which
Browning realized when he expressed, through
Fra Lippo Lippi :
"We're made so that we love
First when we see them painted, things which we have passed
Perhaps a hundred times, nor cared to see."
A HOMELY WEED 2/
An illustration of the truth of this axiom was
afforded in a recent incident in my experience.
Sitting at the open window of my country studio
one summer day, engaged in making a portrait
of a common weed, a friendly farmer, chancing
" across lots," seeing me at work, sauntered up to
" pass the time o' day." As he leaned on the
window-sill his eye fell upon the drawing before
me.
" My !" he exclaimed, " but ain't that pooty ?"
" What !" I retorted, " and will you admit that
this drawing of a weed is pretty?"
" Yes, your draft thar is pooty, but you artist
fellows alliz makes 'em look pootier 'n they ought
to."
So much for the mere attributes of manifest
outward beauty without regard to consideration of
" botany " or the structural beauty of the flowers.
The "botanist" finds beauty everywhere, even
among the homeliest of Flora's hosts. But in the
light of the "new botany," which recognizes the
insect as the important affinity of the flower — the
key to its various puzzling features of color, form,
and fragrance — every commonest blossom which
we thought we had "known" all our lives, and
every homely weed scarce worth our knowing,
now becomes a rebuke, and offers us a field of in-
vestigation as fresh and promising as is offered
by the veriest rare exotic of the conservatory;
28 EYE SPY
more so, indeed, because these latter are strangers
in a strange land, and divorced from their or-
dained insect affinities. The plebeian daisy now
becomes a marvel of a flower indeed — five hun-
dred wonderful little mechanisms packed together
in a single golden disk. The red clover refuses
to recognize us now unless properly introduced
by that " burly bumblebee " with which its life is
so strangely linked.
The barn -yard weeds need no longer be con-
sidered uninteresting and commonplace, because
their mysteries have not yet been discovered, and
I can do no better in my present chapter than
to select one of their number and redeem it
from its hitherto lowly place among them — one
of the homeliest of them all, and whose blos-
soms are scarce noticed by any one except a
botanist.
In my initial illustration is shown a sketch
of the Figwort, or scrophularia, a tall, spindling
weed, with rather fine, luxuriant leaves, it is true,
but with a tall, curiously branching spray of small,
insignificant purplish-olive flowers, with not even
a perfume, like the mignonette, to atone for its
plainness. But it has an odor if not a perfume,
and it has a nectary which secretes the beads of
sweets for its pet companion insects, which in this
instance do not happen to be bees or butterflies,
but most generally wasps of various kinds, as
A. First Day's Welcome-
Stigma at the Doorway.
A1. First Day— Sectional View.
B. Second Day's Welcome — Stigma
bent downward beneath two
withered Stamens at Doorway.
C. Third Day's Welcome.— Four
Stamens at Doorway.
D. Fourth Day.— Full of Blossom.
Mission fulfilled.
30 EYE SPY
these insects are not so particular as to the quali-
ty of their tipple as bees are apt to be. But the
figwort has found out gradually through the ages
that wasps are more serviceable in the cross-fer-
tilization of its flowers than other insects, and it
has thus gradually modified its shape, odor, and
nectar especially to these insects.
Let us then take a careful look at these queer
little homely flowers, and for the time being con-
sider them as mere devices — first, to insure the
visit of an insect, and, second, to make that in-
sect the bearer of the pollen from one blossom to
the stigma of another. Here we see a flower
with three distinct welcomes on three successive
days.
The flower-bud usually opens in the morning,
and shows a face as at A, which must be fully
understood by looking at the side section shown
at A1.
The anthers and pollen are not yet ripe, but
the stigma is ready, and now guards the doorway.
To-morrow morning we shall see a new condition
of things at that doorway, as seen at B and B1.
The stigma has now bent down out of the way,
while two anthers have unfolded on their stalks
and now shed their pollen at the threshold. The
third morning, or perhaps even sooner, the other
pair come forward, and we see the opening of the
blossom as at C. Blossoms in all these three
A HOMELY WEED
Fig. I
conditions are to be
found on this cluster.
A small wasp is now
seen hovering about the
flowers, and we must
turn our attention to
him as seen in Figs, i,
2, and 3. The insect
^ alights, we will assume,
on a blossom of the second day
(Fig. i), clinging with all his
feet, and thrusting his tongue
into the beads of nectar shown
at A1 and Br. He now brings his breast or
thorax, or perhaps the underside of his head,
against the pollen, and is thoroughly dusted with
it. Leaving the blossom, we see him in flight, as
at Fig. 2, and very soon he is seen to come to a
freshly opened flower, which he sips as be-
fore. The pollen is thus pushed against
the projecting stigma, as
shown at Fig. 3, and
thus, one by one, the
flowers are cross-ster-
ilized.
The stigma, after re-
ceiving pollen, imme-
diately bends down-
ward and backward,
Fig. 2
EYE SPY
as shown in B1, to give place to the ripening
anthers, and shortly after the last pair of them
have shed their pol-
len the blossom, hav-
ing then fulfilled its
functions, falls off, as
shown at D. This may
be on the afternoon of
the third day, or not
until the fourth. If
not visited by insects
it may chance to re-
main the longer time;
but more than one tiny
Fig. 3 t J
wasp gets his head into
such a blossom, and is
surprised with a tum-
ble, his weight pulling the blos-
som from its attachment.
The result of that pollen upon
the stigma is quickly seen in the
growing ovary or pod, which en-
larges rapidly on the few suc-
ceeding days, as in E.
Many species of hornets and
wasps, large and small, are to be
seen about the figwort blooms,
occasionally bees, frequently
bumblebees, which usually car-
A HOMELY WEED
33
ry away the pollen on the underside of their
heads.
Who shall any longer refer to the figwort as
an " uninteresting weed " ?
HE pretty works of my
fairy and his companions in
mischief are seen on every
hand from spring until win-
ter, but few of us have ever
seen the fay, for Puck is no myth nor Ariel a creat-
ure of the poet's fancy. Their prototype existed
in entomological entity and demoralizing mischiev-
ousness ages before the traditional fay, in diminu-
tive human form, had been dreamed of. The
quaint, bow - legged little " brownies," which have
brought our entire land beneath the witching
spell of their drollery, can scarce claim prestige
in the ingenuity of their mischief, nor can the
droll doings of imps and elves chronicled in the
folk - lore of many an ancient people begin to
match the actual doings of the real, live, busy
TWO FAIRY SPONGES 35
little fairy whose works abound in meadow, wood,
and copse, and which any of us may discover if
we can once be brought to realize that our imp is
visible. Then we must not forget that ideal type
of the true " fairy " — a paragon of beauty and
goodness, with golden hair and dazzling crown of
brilliants, with her airy costume of gossamer be-
gemmed and spangled, her dainty, twinkling feet
and gorgeously painted butterfly wings. And we
all remember that wonderful
wand which she carried so
gracefully, and whose simple
touch could evoke such a
train of surprising conse-
quences.
And who shall say that
our pretty fay is a myth,
or her magic wand a wild creation of the fancy?
May we not see the wonder - workings of that
potent wand on every hand, even though our
fairy has eluded us while she cast the spell?
There are a host of these wee fairies continually
flitting about among the trees plotting all sorts of
mischief and leaving an astonishing witness of
their visitation in their trail as they pass from
leaf to leaf or twig to twig. But these fairies, like
those of Grimm and Laboulaye, are agile little
atoms, and are not to be caught in their pranks if
they know it, and even though our eye chanced
36 EYE SPY
to rest on one of them, it is doubtful whether we
would recognize him, so different is the guise of
these real fairies from those invented creatures of
the books. Once, when a mere boy, I caught one
of the little imps at work, and watched her for
several minutes without dreaming that I had
been looking at a real fairy all this time. What
did I see ? I was sitting in a clearing, partly in
the shade of a sapling growth of oak which
sprang from the trunk
of a felled tree. While
thus half reclining I
noticed a diminutive,
black, wasp -like insect
upon one of the oak leaves
close to my face.
The insect seemed almost stationary,
and not inclined to resent my intru-
sion, so I observed her closely. I soon discovered
that she was inserting her sting into the midstem
of the leaf, or perhaps withdrawing it therefrom,
for in a few moments the midge flew away. I
remember wondering what the insect was trying
to do, and not until years later did I realize that
I had been witnessing the secret arts of the ma-
gician of the insect world — a very Puck or Ariel,
as I have said — a fairy with a magic wand which
any sprite in elfmdom might covet.
The wand of Herrmann never wrought such a
TWO FAIRY SPONGES 37
wonder as did this magic touch of the little black
fly upon the oak leaf. Had I chanced to visit
the spot a few weeks later, what a beautiful red-
cheeked apple could I have plucked from that
hemstitched leaf !
This was but one of a veritable swarm of mis-
chief - making midges everywhere flitting among
the trees ; and while they are quite as various in
their shapes as the traditional forms of fairies —
the ouphes and imps, the gnomes and elves of
quaintest mien, as well as the dainty fays and
sylphs and sprites — there is one feature common
to them all which annihilates the ideal of all
the pictorial authorities on fairydom. Neither
Grimm, nor Laboulaye, nor any of the masters of
fairy - lore, seems to have discovered that a fairy
has no right to those butterfly wings which the
pages of books show us. Those of the real fairy
are quite different, being narrow and glassy, and
bear the magician's peculiar sign in their criss-
cross veins.
What a world of mischief is going on here in
the fields ! Here is one of the witching sprites
among the drooping blossoms of the oak. " You
would fain be an acorn," she says, as she pierces
the tender blossoms with her wand, " but I charge
thee bring forth a string of currants ;" and imme-
diately the blossoms begin to obey the behest,
and erelong a mimic string of currants droops
38 EYE SPY
upon the stem. Upon another tender branch
near by a jet-black, gauze -winged elf is casting a
similar spell, which is this time followed by a tiny,
downy, pink -cheeked peach. And here alights a
tiny sprite, whose magic touch evokes even from
the same leaf a cherry, or a coral bead, perhaps a
huge green apple ! How many of us have seen
the little elf that spends her life among the tan-
gles of creeping cinque-foil, and decks its stems
with those brilliant scarlet beads which we may
always find upon them, looking verily like tempt-
ing berries.
We see here about us swarms of these busy
elves in obedience to their own peculiar mischiev-
ous promptings. What whispers this glittering
midge to the oak twig here to which she clings
so closely ? We may not guess ; but if we pass
this way a month or so hence, what a beautiful
response in the glistening, rosy -clouded sponge
which encircles the stem ! " But this sponge is
not pretty enough by half," exclaims a rival fairy.
"Wait until you see what yonder sweetbrier rose
will do for me? Hovering thither among its
thorns, she imparts her spell, and, lo ! within a
month the stem is clothed in emerald fringe,
which grows apace, until it has become a dense
pompon of deep crimson — a sponge worthy the
toilet of the fairy queen herself !
Who shall still say that the fairy is a myth !
TWO FAIRY SPONGES 39
These two fairy
sponges are familiar
to us all, at least to
those of us who dwell for
even a small part of the
year in the country, and
use our eyes. Indeed,
we need go no farther
than our city parks, or
even our " back - yard "
gardens, to find at least
one of them, for the
sweetbrier is rarely neg-
lected by this
particular fairy.
So many spec-
imens of both of
these sponges
have been sent to
me by " Round
Table" corre-
spondents and
^^IKr/X> others that I
^/ X , s '- ( \ have begun to
. / •' ' ifc^ wonder how
I ^^"^ many of those
other young
people who have seen them and kept silence have
wondered at their secret.
EYE SPY
The two fairies which are responsible for these
sponges have been captured by the inquisitive
scientist, and have had their portraits taken for
the rogues' gallery, and now we see them stuck
A. One of the points detached.
B. Section of the base.
C. D. Cynips emerging.
upon tiny little three-cornered pieces of paper,
and pinned in the specimen case as mere insects
— gall -flies. The one is labelled Cynips semi-
nator, the other, Cynips rosce.
TWO FAIRY SPONGES 41
And now the prosaic entomologist proceeds to
supplant fact for fancy. This gall-fly is a sort of
cousin to the wasps, but what we would call its
sting is more than a mere sting. Like a sting, it
seems to puncture the bark or leaf, and at the
same time probably to inject its drop of venom ;
but at the same time it conveys to the depths of
the wound a tiny egg, or perhaps a host of them.
One gall-fly is thus a magician in chemistry, at
least, for no sooner are these eggs deposited than
the wounded branch begins to swell and form a
cellular growth or tumor about them, the charac-
ter of this abnormal growth depending upon the
peculiar charm of the venomous touch — to one a
tiny coral globe, to another a cluster of spines, to
another a curved horn, and to our cynips of the
white or scrub oak a peculiar globular, spongy
growth which completely envelops the stem, some-
times to the size of ,a small apple. In its prime
it is a beautiful object, with its fibrous, glisten-
ing texture studded with pink points. But this
condition lasts but a few days, when the entire
mass becomes brownish and woolly, which fact
has given this insect the common name of " wool-
sower."
And now we must lose no time if we would
follow its history to its complete cycle. If we
put one of these faded sponges in a tight-closed
box,, we shall in a few days learn the secret of its
EYE SPY
being. For this singular mimic fruit which has
sprung at the behest of the gall - fly, like other
fruits, has its seeds — seeds which are animated
with peculiar life, and which sprout in
a way we would hardly expect. With-
in a fortnight after gathering, per-
haps, we find our box swarming with
tiny, black flies, while if we dissect
the sponge we find its long-
beaked seeds entirely empty,
and each with a clean round
hole gnawed through its shell,
explaining this host of gall-
flies, all similar to the parent
of a few weeks since, and all
bent on the same mischief
when you shall let them loose
at the window.
The beautiful sponge of the
sweet-brier has been called
into being by exactly simi-
lar means, and its
hard, woody centre
is packed full of
•
TWO FAIRY SPONGES 43
cells, at first each with its tiny egg, and then with
its plump larva, followed by the chrysalis, and
at length by the emergence of the full-fledged
Cynips roscz.
This sponge -gall of the rose is commonly
known as the Bedegnar, and, like all other mem-
bers of its tribe, as with the familiar oak-apple,
was long supposed to be a regular accessory fruit
of its parent stalk. Among early students were
many superstitions connected with the Bedegnar,
the nature of which may readily be inferred from
its other common name of " Robin's Pin-cushion."
HE casual observer may perhaps
have noticed that interesting law
of nature which governs the color-
ing of flowers, and which confines
the hues of a given flower, or per-
haps a botanical group of flowers,
to two colors and the combination of these col-
ors. The three primary colors — red, yellow, and
blue — are rarely to be seen in the blossoms of the
same botanical group. Thus we observe roses,
hollyhocks, chrysanthemums, and tulips in all
shades of white, yellow, pink, red, and crimson,
even almost approaching black, and numberless
combinations of these colors, but never blue. The
same is true with dahlias, zinnias, lilies, gladioli,
pinks, and portulacas.
On the other hand, flowers which are notably
blue — as in the bell worts, or " Canterbury -bells,"
GREEN PANSIES 45
and larkspur, which vary from white, through all
shades of blue, to purple, pink, and even reds —
never show any trace of yellow. This color limi-
tation of blossoms was noted by De Candolle early
in the present century, who classified flowers in
two series as to their hues. The first, which in-
cluded the yellow, was called the X ant hie ; the
second, which omitted the yellow, the Cyanic.
World - wide fame and a comfortable fortune
await the florist who shall produce a variety of
blue rose, tulip, hollyhock, or dahlia, or a yellow
geranium or larkspur, which all persist in their
fidelity to their particular color series. And yet
nature gives us occasional exceptions which, how-
ever, only serve by their contrast to emphasize the
universal law. Thus we see the water-lily group
— if we include the two separate orders Nymphcea
and Nelumbo — with blossoms of pink, yellow, and
blue. The water-lilies of this latter color, allied
to the Egyptian yellow lotus, which were to be
seen in the Union Square fountain, New York,
last summer, were almost lost in the azure of the
sky which their surrounding waters reflected, and
yet they clearly had no right to include blue in
their gamut; purple or red possibly, but not blue.
But this is not so remarkable an exception as
we find in the hyacinth, in which the three pri-
mary colors are to be seen with notable purity —
blues, yellows, and reds — and thus with possibili-
46 EYE SPY
ties of almost any conceivable color, under culti-
vation and careful selection.
Another striking exception, and one which
would have puzzled De Candolle for its color
classification, is the columbine. One common
species of the Eastern United States, Aquilegia
canadensis, is of a pure deep scarlet color, as every
country boy knows. If we seek for our colum-
bines in the far West we shall miss this familiar
type, and find it replaced by another species, A.
chrysantha, of a fine clear yellow, or perhaps by
its near relative, the A. ccerulea, with its sky-blue
corolla, a common species in the region of the
Rocky Mountains. Columbines, red, yellow, and
blue, are thus to be found in a state of nature,
and we thus find other cultivated forms which ex-
tend from a pure white through all shades of
purple.
The pansy, that protean offspring from lowly
"johnny- jumper," occasionally comes very near
embracing the entire gamut of color to which its
name, Viola tricolor, would seem to entitle it.
Blue pansies and yellow pansies we certainly have,
but the ruddiest of its rich wine tints, -when laid
beside the red, red rose, at once confesses its pur-
ple, the remnant of blue which it cannot absolutely
eliminate.
The blue rose, blue tulip, blue dahlia, and blue
carnation have as yet refused to respond to the
j
coaxing arts of the florist,
but he has at least suc-
ceeded in imposing upon
our credulity in a carna-
tion pink of white, streaked
with peacock blue. Bou-
quets of these uncanny-
looking blossoms are fre-
quently to be seen in our
city flower-booths, but they
smack of trickery, and the
vendor is rarely seen to
look you in the eye as he
responds " new variety " to
your inquiry as to the pe-
culiar color.
"Are those natural?" I
heard a lady ask at a flower-
stall recently, referring to
these pinks.
" Sure, madam," he replied, this time with easy
conscience. " They were picked in the conserv-
atory this morning."
But as he folded the paper carefully about her
generous purchase, he didn't trouble her with the
details of the subsequent aniline bath to which
they were subjected, and of which they bore plain
evidence upon close scrutiny.
But if we are to resort to hocus-pocus in the
48 EYE SPY
tinting of flowers, there is an artificial method
available which leaves this clumsy artifice of the
blue-green pinks far behind, and which, withal,
affords a very pretty experiment in chemistry,
albeit presumably more enjoyed by the operator
than the victim.
A gentleman of the writer's acquaintance, while
visiting his sister at her country home, noted her
fondness for pansies, as indicated by the numer-
ous beds and borders of the flowers there. After
expressing his appreciation and surprise at the
endless shades of color in the bouquet which she
was gathering for the library table, he stooped,
and apparently plucked one of the blossoms from
a bed.
"Your pansies are certainly the most remark-
able that I have ever seen. Here is one which is
truly most astonishing in color," he remarked, as
he handed the blossom to her.
It was received with an exclamation of amaze-
ment, and with eager glances at the neighborhood
of the bed from which she presumed it had been
taken. " Where did you find it ?" exclaimed his
sister, in complete demoralization. " Which plant
was it on? Why, I never saw such a pansy! It's
wonderful ! There must be more. I never heard
of such a pansy ! Do show me where you picked
it."
" I got it from this plant here, I think," replied
GREEN PANSIES 49
the young man, as soon as he could be heard ; and,
stooping carelessly, he plucked another, which
proved even more of a surprise than the first, so
vividly intense was its color.
The first specimen was a dark pansy. The two
usually deep purple upper petals now appeared of
a deep velvety peacock blue. The remaining
three petals were pale emerald - green, bordered
with deeper green. In the second blossom the
upper pair of petals were now transfigured in vivid
emerald-green, the rest of the flower being of paler
but almost equally dazzling brilliancy.
The demoralization was more and more com-
plete as another and another of the remarkable
blossoms was rescued from its obscurity, always
by the accommodating young man, and added to
the growing bouquet. Neighbors on right and
left were quickly acquainted with the remarkable
discovery, and a gathering of excited natives soon
assembled in the parlor to view the new floral
sensation. The pansy-beds were soon the scene
of busy commotion, but in the eager search for
the rare blooms fortune seemed still to favor the
young man, to the exasperation of several of the
bright-eyed young ladies, who, of course, did not
happen to know of the young man's occasional
sly recourse to a certain tumbler concealed near
by.
But the secret soon leaked out, and the victim
5O EYE SPY
confessed and did penance. Had he realized what
a commotion his innocent prank was destined to
create, he would not have yielded to temptation.
But his sister was primarily to blame. Why had
she placed that bottle so conspicuously upon his
wash-stand ? He had noted her fondness for pan-
sies, and a minute later had read " Ammonia " on
the label of the bottle, and association of ideas
and mischief did the rest. In a casual stroll about
the pansy-beds he had then gathered a dozen or
so of the several varieties and taken them to his
room. Laying a piece of crumpled paper in a
saucer, he then poured about a teaspoonful of the
ammonia upon it, afterwards gently laying the pan-
sies in a pile upon the paper, and thus free from
actual contact with the liquid, and covering the
whole with a tumbler. In two or three minutes
the fumes of the ammoniacal gas had done their
work, and lo ! when he removed the tumbler his
pansies had doffed their blues and purples, and
were transfigured in velvets of all imaginable em-
erald and peacock and mineral greens, though still
retaining their perfect shape and petal texture.
To more completely confound the innocent with
this experiment, the "operator" should suddenly
discover an entire plant with all its flowers thus
tinted in emerald — a feat which may be accom-
plished by submitting the whole plant to similar
treatment beneath a bell glass or other air-tight
GREEN PANSIES
vessel or box, in which
case the amount of ammo-
nia used should be pro-
portionately increased.
If the concentrated am-
monia is employed, a
very small quantity will
be sufficient.
Flowers thus treated
f will last
in an unal-
tered condi-
tion for several hours,
though the treatment
is really injurious, even de-
structive, to the tissues of
flower as well as plant.
52 EYE SPY
Various other blossoms respond in their own
particular virescent hues to the vapors of ammo-
nia, as the reader will discover upon experiment.
The fumes of sulphur confined beneath a glass,
as from a few common, old-fashioned matches, will
play all sorts of similar pranks with the colors of
petals. A little experimenting in this direction
will afford many surprises.
rf^MBft
F all the insects which occasionally
claim our attention in our country
rambles, there is probably no ex-
ample more entitled to our distin-
guished consideration than the ple-
beian, commonly despised, but ad-
mittedly amusing beetle known the
country over as the funny " tumble-
bug." As we see him now, so he has always been —
the same in appearance, the same in habits ; yet
how has he fallen from grace ! how humbled in the
eyes of man from that original high estate when,
in ancient Egypt, he enjoyed the prestige above all
insects — where, as the sacred " scarabaeus," he was
dignified as the emblem of immortality, and wor-
shipped as a god ! The archaeological history of
Egypt is rich in reminders of his former emi-
nence. Not only do we see his familiar shape (as
shown in our initial design) everywhere among
54 EYE SPY
those ancient hieroglyphs engraved in the rock or
pictured on the crumbling papyrus ; but it is es-
pecially in association with death and the tomb
that his important significance is emphasized.
The dark mortuary passages and chambers hewn
in solid rock, often hundreds of feet below the sur-
face, where still sleep the mummied remains of an
entire ancient people, and which honeycomb the
earth beneath the feet of the traveller in certain
parts of Egypt, are still eloquent in tribute to the
sacred scarab. The lantern of the antiquarian
explorer in those dark dungeons of death dis-
closes the suggestive figure of this beetle every-
where engraved in high relief upon the walls, per-
haps enlivened with brilliant color still as fresh
as when painted three thousand years ago, em-
blazoned in gold and gorgeous hues upon the
sarcophagus and the mummy -case within, and
again upon the outer covers of the winding-sheet ;
finally, in the form of small ornaments the size of
nature, beautifully carved on precious stones en-
closed within the wrappings of the mummy itself.
What other insect has been thus glorified and
immortalized ? For the sake of its proud lineage,
if nothing else, is not our poor tumble-bug deserv-
ing of our more than passing attention ? An in-
sect which has thus been distinguished by an
entire great people of antiquity has some claims
on our respect and consideration.
MR. AND MRS. TUMBLE-BUG 55
But aside from his historical fame, he will well
repay our careful study, and serve to while away a
pleasant hour in the observance of his queer hab-
its. He is now no longer the awe - inspiring
sacred scarab, but Mr. Tumble-bug, or, rather, " Mr.
and Mrs. Tumble-bug," for a tumble-bug always
pictured in the ancient hieroglyph is rarely to be
seen in its natural haunts. Mr. and Mrs. Tum-
ble-bug are devoted and inseparable, and, as a rule,
vie with each other in the solicitude for that pre-
cious rolling ball with which the insects are al-
ways associated. From June to autumn we may
find our tumble - bugs. There are a number of
species included in the group of Scarabaeus to
which they belong. Two species are particularly
familiar, one of a lustrous bronzy hue, with a very
rounded back, usually found at work on the coun-
try highway in the track of the horse, and the
other, the true typical tumble -bug, a flat -backed,
jet-black lustrous species which we naturally as-
sociate with the barn-yard and cow-pasture. The
latter may be taken as an illustrative example of
his class, and his ways are identical with those of
his ancient sacred congener and present inhabi-
tant of Egypt.
When we first see them they are generally ma-
nipulating the ball — a small mass of manure in
which an egg has been laid, and which by rolling
in the dust has now become round and firmly in-
56 EYE SPY
crusted and smooth. Let us follow the couple in
their apparently aimless though no less expedi-
tious and vehement labors. They have now
brought their globular charge through the grassy
stubble, and have reached a clear spot of earth
with scattered weeds. Of course we all know
from the books that their intention is to find a
suitable spot in which to bury this ball, and such
being the case, with what astonishing stupidity do
they urge on that labor! Here certainly is just
the right spot for you, Mrs. Tumble-bug! Stop
rolling and dig! But no, she will not listen to
reason. She mounts the top of the ball, and,
creeping far out upon it, pulls it over forward
with her back feet, while Mr. Tumble -bug helps
her in a most singular fashion. Does he stand
up on his hind legs on the opposite side, and
push with his powerful front feet ? Oh no ; he
stands on his head, and pushes with his hind legs.
As he pushes, and as the ball rolls merrily on,
Mrs. Tumble -bug is continually rolled around
with it, and must needs climb backward at a live-
ly rate to keep her place. A foot or two is thus
travelled without special incident, when a slight
trouble occurs. The ball has struck an obstacle
which neither Mrs. Tumble - bug's pull nor Mr.
Tumble-bug's push can overcome. Then follow
an apparent council and interchange of Tumble-
bug, talk, until at length both put their shovel-
58 EYE SPY
shaped heads together beneath the sphere, and
over it goes among the weeds. It is soon out
again upon the open. Now, Mrs. Tumble - bug,
everything is plain-sailing for you ; here is a long
down grade over the smooth clean dirt! Why,
the ball would roll down itself if you would only
let it ; but, no, she will not let it. She pauses, and
the ball rests, and both beetles now creep about,
shovelling up the dirt here and there with their
very queer little flat heads. Ah, perhaps they are
going to start that hole which all the books tell us
about. But no ; the place is evidently not quite
satisfactory, both of them seem so to conclude,
like two souls with but a single thought. Mrs. T.
is up on the bridge in a jiffy, and Mr. T. takes his
place at the helm ; and now what an easy time
they will have of it down this little slope ; but, no,
again ; tumble - bugs don't seem to care for an
easy time. A hundred times on their travels will
they pass the very best possible spot for that bur-
row, a hundred times will they persist in guiding
that little world of theirs over an obstruction,
when a clear path lies an inch to the right or left
of them. And here, when their labors might be
so easily lightened by a downward grade, what do
they do ? they deliberately turn the ball about
and hustle it along up hill, and that, too, over dirt
that is not half as promising. Tip they go!
Mrs. T. now seems to have the best of it, and I
MR. AND MRS. TUMBLE-BUG 59
sometimes have my suspicions whether she is not
playing a prank on that unsuspecting spouse
working so hard at her back, for he now has not
only the ball, but Mrs. T. as well, to shove along,
for the most that she can do is to throw the
weight of her body forward, which in a steep up
grade amounts to nothing as a help.
But if she is imposing on Mr. T. in thus guid-
ing the ball up hill, she soon gets the Roland for
her Oliver. Mr. T. is put to great extra labor by
this whimsical decision of hers, and woe to Mrs.
T. when that little chance valley or inequality of
surface is reached. Even though she can see it
coming and holds the wheel, she rarely seems to
take advantage of it to save herself or her ship,
while Mr. T., going backward in the rear, of
course cannot be expected to know what is com-
ing, nor be blamed for the consequences. With
kick after kick from his powerful hind feet, united
with the push of his mighty pair in front, the ball
speeds up the slope. Now, for some reason, he
gives a backward shove of more than usual
force when it was least necessary. The ball had
chanced upon the crest of a slope, when, kick !
over it goes with a pitch and a bound, and Mrs.
T. with it, though this time not on top. Happy
is she if the ball simply rolls upon her and pins
her down. Such, indeed, is a frequent episode in
her experience of keeping the ball a-rolling, but
60 EYE SPY
occasionally the tumble-ball thus started, and out
of the control of her spouse at the rear, may roll
over and over for a long distance, but never alone.
No amount of demoralization of this sort ever
surprises her into losing her grip on her precious
globular bundle. When at last it fetches up
against a stone or stick, and she assures herself
that she and her charge are safe and sound, no
doubt she immediately mounts to its crest to sig-
nal the lone Mr. T. afar off, who is quickly back
of her again, and both are promptly off on a fresh
journey. And so they keep it up, apparently for
sport, perhaps for an hour.
At length, when they have played long enough
— for there is no other reason apparent to homo
sapiens — they decide to plant their big, dirty pel-
let. The place which they have chosen is not
half as promising as many they have passed, but
that doesn't seem to matter. Mrs. T. has said,
" It shall go here," and that ends it.
Then follows a most singular exhibition of ex-
cavation and burial. The ball is now resting qui-
etly on the dirt, and the two beetles are appar-
ently rummaging around beneath it, trying the
ground with the sharp edge of their shovel-shaped
faces. And now, to avoid confusion, we will dis-
miss Mr. T., and confine our observation strictly
to the female, who usually (in my experience) con-
ducts the rest of the work alone.
MR. AND MRS. TUMBLE-BUG
6l
'--'
She has evidently found a spot
that suits her, and we expect her to
fulfil the directions of the books
and entomological authorities. She
must " dig a deep hole first, and
then roll the ball into it, and
fill it up again." But we
will look in
vain for such
obedience.
Instead of
this she per-
s i s t s in
ploughing
around be-
neath the
ball, which
seems at times al-
most balanced on
her back, until all
the earth at this
point is soft and fri-
able, and she is out of
sight under it. Pres-
ently she appears
again at the surface,
and as quickly disap-
pears again, this time
going in upsidedown
62 EYE SPY
beneath the ball, which she pulls downward with
her pair of middle feet, while at the same time,
with hind legs and powerful digging front legs,
she pushes outward and upward the loose earth
which she has accumulated. Visibly the ball
sinks into the cavity moment by moment as the
earth is lowered for a space of half an inch in the
surrounding soil, and continually forced upward
outside of its circumference. In a few moments
the pellet has sunk level with the ground, and in
a few moments more the loose earth pushed up-
ward has overtopped it and it is out of sight
Still, for hours this busy excavator continues to
dig her hole and pull the ball in after her, with
shovel head and mole-like digging feet scooping
out a circular well much larger than the diameter
of the ball, which slowly sinks by its own weight,
aided by her occasional downward pull, as this
same loosened earth is pushed upward above it.
The burrow is thus sunk several inches, when the
beetle ploughs her way to the surface and is
ready for another similar experience.
The remaining history of the ball and its
change is soon told. The egg within it soon
hatches, the larva finding just a sufHciency of
food to carry it to its full growth, when it trans-
forms to a chrysalis, and at length to the tumble-
bug like its parent. The formerly loose earth
above him is now firmly packed, but he seems to
MR. AND MRS. TUMBLE-BUG
know by instinct why those
powerful front feet were given
to him, and he is quickly
working his way to the
surface, and in a day or
so is seen in the barn-
yard rolling his ball as
skilfully as his mother
had done before him.
Such is the method
always employed by the
tumble -bug as I have
seen him. And yet I
have read in many nat-
ural histories, and have
heard careful observers
claim, that the hole is
dug first and the ball
rolled in. Perhaps they
vary their plan, but I
doubt it. Here is a mat-
ter for some of our boys and girls to look into.
O they are called; and if the almost
unanimous rustic opinion, with its an-
cient tradition and reliable witness, is
to be credited, such they are in very
truth. Indeed, there would seem to be
few better attested facts in the whole range of
natural history than the pedigree of this white or
brown thread-like creature which is found in sum-
mer shallows and pools. Go where you will in
the rural districts and it is the same old story.
41 They come from horse-hairs," and in some sec-
tions they are destined finally to become full-grown
water-adders. It is commonly no mere theory. It
is either an indisputable fact, tested by individ-
ual observation, or else is accepted as a matter of
course, much as Pliny of old accepted the similar
natural history " discoveries " of his time. He
says, for example, on a similar subject, " I have
heard many a man say that the marrow of a man's
backbone will breed to a snake. And well it may
so be, for surely there be many secrets in nature
THOSE HORSE-HAIR SNAKES 65
to us unknown, and much may come of hidden
causes."
I have exchanged much comment on the sub-
ject of the hair snake with New England farmers.
I have heard it claimed by one rural authority that
a horse-hair bottled in water and placed in the
sun will become a snake at second full moon.
One prominent Granger, not to be outdone, went
so far as to affirm that an old horse of his fell
dead at the edge of the dam, and that the whole
animal's tail squirmed off, and the pond was full
of hair snakes in consequence. It becomes al-
most a matter of personal offence to the aver-
age countryman to question the truth of these
statements. The hair snake is &fact — settled by
their forefathers, and more true than ever to-day.
But snake stories, like fish stories, are always to
be " taken with salt," and lest some of our younger
readers may become converts to the rural authori-
ties with whom they are perhaps associated in the
summer outings, and in order also to relieve our
long-suffering horse from this outrageous libel on
its tail, it is well to settle our horse-hair snake
story once and for all. To this end, I doubt
if I can do better than to quote from memory
a certain village store discussion of which the
everlasting hair snake was the topic. I say " dis-
cussion," but this was hardly the proper term to
apply to a general conversation in which all the
5
66 EYE SPY
parties seemed to agree. For some moments it
consisted of anecdotes bearing on the subject, and
each of the group had furnished his item of inter-
est supporting the accepted theory of the horse-
hair origin of the snake. Only one member of
the company remained to be heard from, Amos
Shoopegg, the village cobbler, who had kept silent,
with somewhat sinister expression on his counte-
nance as he listened with a sort of superior dis-
dain to the various wonder-
ful accounts, until at length,
upon the recital of the story
of the dead horse in the
pond, he could contain him-
self no longer, and blurted out:
" Well, I swan, I never see
sech a lot of dunceheels ! I
never hear sech fool talk since I's born. They
ain't one on ye thet's got enny sense."
" Waal, haow much hev yeu gut ?" asked the
narrator of the dead -horse story, testily. "Yeu
never see a har snake in yer life, and wouldn't
know one from a side o' sole-leather er a waxed-
end ef it wuz laid in yer lap."
" Not know 'em ? I guess not," replied Amos.
" I know more about 'em than the hull lot o' ye
put together. Not know 'em ! Law ! hain't I
seen 'em flyin' over the meddy by the hundreds
in hayin'-time !"
THOSE HORSE-HAIR SNAKES 67
A loud and long -continued guffaw concert
greeted this surprising statement, a result which
the shrewd cobbler had anticipated.
" We give in," remarked one sarcastic snake ex-
pert, when the laughter had subsided. " We give
in. We don't enny on us know thet much," fol-
lowed by another burst of derisive laughter.
" Thet's becuz yeu ornery critters hain't gut no
sense," replied Amos, with warmth. " Ye beleve
jest wut ennybody tells ye, or jest wut yer gran'ther
beleved before ye, ez though yeur gran'ther knowed
any more'n a hedge fence jest becuz he hed the
misfortoon to be yeur gran'ther. My gran'ther
sed so tew. But what on't ? He warn't to blame.
He didn't know no better. I do. Yeu say them
snakes come from hoss-har. Like nuff they ain't
one o' ye but b'leeves fer a fac' thet ef yer old
har-cloth sofy wuz put to soak it wou'd all squirm
off overnight. Ye see these ar har snakes in the
hoss-trawf, and thet's enuffi^ ye. Immejetly yeu
hev yer 'hoss-har snake,' 'n' you're so sot they
ain't no livin' with ye."
And so he went on, with occasional exclamatory
or chaffing interruptions.
"Oh yis! Yeu know all about 'em, jest becuz
ye hed a gran'ther who wuz a dunceheels. No-
body kin teech ye nothin', but /'// tek a leetle o'
the conceit out o' ye afore I'm done with ye. Wut
I know I know, 'n' wut I say I kin prove. 'N' if
68 EYE SPY
none o' yeu idjits hain't seen them har snakes
a-flyin' over the meddy ez I sed, then ye dorit
know nothiri about ^em. I tell ye I've seen 'em 'n'
caught 'em !"
" Say, Amos," slyly asked a jibing neighbor at
his elbow, " wut did ye hev in the hayin'-pail that
day?"
" Waal," drawled Amos, after the momentary
laughter had subsided, " wutever it wuz, it 'd do
yeu a power o' good ef yeu'd take one long pull
on't. It would be a eye-opener fer ye, p'r'aps, 'n'
yeu'd larn suthin'. You've ben fed with a spoon
all yer life, 'n' ye swaller wutever they give ye
without lookin'. Thet's wut ails yeu. Say," he
continued, trying to get in a word edgewise in
the prevalent hilarious din, "you idjits er havin'
a mighty sight o' fun over this 'ere ! I'll give
ye a chance to show which on ye is the big-
gest fool. Doos any one o' ye want to bet me
that ye ain't a pack o' dunces ? Which on ye
'11 bet me a scythe that wut I say about these
ar flyin' snakes is all poppycut? Come, naow,
I'm talkin' bizniss, and if ye ain't a lot o' cowards,
p'r'aps you'll prove thet ye ain't. I say them
snakes wuz a-flyin1 around ez fast ez grasshoppers
all over the meddy, 'n' ar flyin' thar naow, like
all-possessed, 'n' I kin prove it. Naow who sez I
kairit, and will wager me a new scythe on't?"
A momentary lull followed this challenge, but
THOSE HORSE-HAIR SNAKES 69
the bet was promptly taken by several of the com-
pany, the " dead-horse " story-teller being the first
to rise to the bait.
In a moment Amos had left the store, and with-
in a half-hour (barely long enough for him to have
reached his home and returned) he reappeared
with a box containing the " proofs " of his remark-
able statement.
He won his bet, having introduced his sceptical
hearers to the two prime authorities that knew
more about hair snakes than all the rustic wise-
acres or scientific professors put together, for his
box was filled with grasshoppers and black crick-
ets, including one or two specimens specially pre-
served in a small vial of alcohol, to show the par-
asitic snake coiled in its close spiral.
70 EYE SPY
It is reported that Amos never got his scythe,
however, the " dead - horse " story - teller having
backed out on a technicality, claiming that Amos
could not have seen the snakes, he said, and that
the snakes had no wings, and consequently could
not have been seen "flying" over the meadow;
but the cobbler was at least the means of wip-
ing out the hair -snake superstition in the vil-
lage, and even to this day he is heard to sing
out to the charring group at the village store, on
occasions when he is crowded a little too far,
"Who sed hoss-har snake?" He laughs best
who laughs last.
There was nothing in the outward appearance
of Amos to indicate an intelligence superior to
that of his fellows, the secret of his present victo-
rious position being found in the fact that he had
been in the habit of making the, most of his " sum-
mer boarders." One of these, during the present
season, had been a college professor of biology,
who had enlightened him on many puzzling mat-
ters of natural history, including the mystery of
the hair snake, whose horse-hair origin he would
once have maintained as stoutly as did his oppo-
nents at the village store.
My own early belief was influenced by the pre-
vailing country opinion, and more than one is the
horse hair which I have put to soak with interest-
ing anticipation. By a mere accident the true
THOSE HORSE-HAIR SNAKES 7 1
source of the snake was discovered. I had pro-
cured a box of grasshoppers and crickets for bait,
numbering some hundreds, and once, upon open-
ing it, observed two of the thread-like creatures
entangled like a snell among the insects. Further
experience while baiting the hooks with the grass-
hoppers revealed others in the bodies of both
crickets and grasshoppers, which seemed in no
way disturbed by their presence.
So the " horse-hair snake " may be written down
a myth. Its existence prior to the time we dis-
cover it in the brook or puddle has been spent
under the hospitable roof of the insects men-
tioned, upon escaping from which it seeks the
water to lay its eggs. The young in turn seek
the grasshoppers and crickets which frequent
their haunt, and thus the routine is continued, to
the possible annoyance of the grasshopper and the
complete mystification of the rural scientist.
OW potent and abiding are the remi-
niscences of early youth ! It is now
some thirty years since I discovered
" Professor Wiggler," and noted his peculiar eccen-
tricities. And simply because I chanced first to
disclose his wiggling identity on a lilac-bush, how
irresistibly must his comical presence assert itself
with my slightest thought of lilac, with the shape
of its leaf, the faintest whiff of its fragrance, or
even a distant glimpse of its spray !
Yonder, for instance, an old ruin of a home
closely hemmed in with the well-known bushes
spots the wintry landscape. What a place for
Wigglers that will be next summer ! Only a few
days since, while walking down Broadway, New
"PROFESSOR WIGGLER" 73
York, I paused for a momentary glimpse of a fine
display of spring silks in a shop window, when
Professor Wiggler, without the slightest rhyme or
reason, suddenly wagged his comical head across
my fancy, for my thoughts were far from profess-
ors and entomology. Following a frequent, quiet
pastime of mine, of tracing the pedigree of such
vagrant waifs of thought, I fell to pondering what
could have summoned my unbidden friend, and I
soon discovered. Why, how simple ! The win-
dow before me was a very epitome of tender
vernal hues — blushes of pale blossoms, yellows of
pale anthers shadowed under petals, and quick-
ened grays of bourgeoning hill-side woods, warm
pulsing greens of budding leaves, each fabric bear-
ing its label of the latest color-fad — coral gray,
Chinese pink, primrose ash, old rose, and yonder
was a faded purple bearing the title " lilac," which,
of course, by its own irresistible telegraph through
my retina, had called up the professor, and here
he was.
Yes, it must be admitted, he is a rather uncere-
monious and promiscuous professor, but I can
nevertheless recommend him to our young people
as a most amusing and entertaining character.
As I have said, I first made his acquaintance over
thirty years ago, and in spite of his obtrusive ways
in season and out of season, I nevertheless renew
our actual acquaintance on the lilac-bush every
74
EYE SPY
summer, and I am always greeted with the same
expressive " wiggle-waggle."
It was in early August when I first discovered
him, a small brown and white crook-backed creat-
ure about an inch long, clothed with scattered
hairs, and clinging to the edge of a leaf, half of
" PROFESSOR WIGGLER "
75
which he had eaten to the mid rib. As I ap-
proached he ceased eating, and began to wag his
upraised head and body vehemently, and I prompt-
ly named him Wiggler, subsequently adding the
" professor " for special reasons which I do not
now recall. Careful search about the bush led to
the discovery of a dozen or
more of the caterpillars, all
about the same size ; and
such was their novelty among
the young insect-collectors
that wigglers now became
all the rage, and were at a
premium on trade. The li-
lac-bushes of the town were
scoured for caterpillars, and
there was suddenly a " cor-
ner" on wigglers. A Pro-
fessor Wiggler was now
worth two bull's - eyes, and even two classical
Polyphemuses, or three Attacus prometheus co-
coons were considered only a just and dignified
equivalent for a full - grown specimen of the
new professor. For those which I had first
found proved to be mere infants. As they
waxed fat and healthy and lively on their daily
supply of fresh lilac leaves, they soon reached
the length of quite an inch and a half, and their
humps and zigzag outline were proportionately
76 EYE SPY
developed, to say nothing of their wiggling pro-
pensities.
How well I remember the. " whack ! whack !
whack !" from the inside of the pasteboard or
wooden box as I entered the room, or chanced to
make the slightest commotion in its neighbor-
hood, as the captive pets threatened to dash their
brains out in their demonstrations at my approach.
Opening the box, I was always greeted with the
same concert of whisking heads, the action being
more particularly expressive from the long pro-
jecting lash of hairs, an inch and a quarter in
length, with which the caterpillar's head was pro-
vided. One singular feature of these hairs had
always puzzled me in the earlier life of the cater-
pillar, but was soon explained by close observa-
tion. At intervals of every quarter of an inch or so
in the length of the slender tuft we find, in perfect
specimens, a tiny brown speck — perhaps three or
four — graduating in size to the tip of the hairs,
where the atom is scarcely visible, or generally
absent. A careful examination of their shape re-
vealed the fact that they were exactly like the
heads of the younger caterpillars in all their
stages, and their presence and successive accu-
mulation were readily explained by the moult-
ing habits of the caterpillar, which is common
to all caterpillars. By these telltale tokens we
know that the professor has changed his clothes
" PROFESSOR WIGGLER" 77
— let us see, one, two, three, four — perhaps five
times.
When he first emerged from the egg on the
lilac -leaf he was indeed a tiny atom; his head
would make a small show laid upon our page.
When about a week old, by dint of a good appe-
tite and voracious feeding, he had managed to
" outgrow his skin," as it were. He could literally
hold no more, and realizing that nature would
come to his relief, he began to spin a tiny web
upon the leaf-stalk in which to secure his hooked
feet for a temporary rest, sleeping off his dinner,
as it were.
He is now a very quiet and circumspect young
professor. It were indeed a dangerous experi-
ment to wiggle in such a tight suit as now in-
closes him, so he remains immovable and resigned.
A strange process is now going on in his physiol-
ogy. Hour by hour his outer skin is becoming
detached from the under skin, and now7 he is sim-
ply inclosed within its sac. The shell of his
former head has been crowded off his face, as it
were, and has slid down towards the mouth of the
new head within. Shortly after this feature has
taken place the imprisoned caterpillar becomes
restless to burst his bonds, and a quiet working
motion begins, which gradually forces the skin in
wrinkles towards the tail of the body, of course
drawing it tighter and tighter about the head, and
78 EYE SPY
with it the connection from the spiracles at the
sides of the body. At last, with one final effort,
the skin behind the head ruptures, and discloses
the new skin beneath, and through the opening
thus made the new head soon appears, and the
entire new suit of clothes emerges in a few mo-
ments. But though the old clothes are worked
off into a little shrunken pellet at the tail, the old
head-shell is still retained, being attached to the
hairs immediately back of the new head, and thus
retained. Five or six times in the life of the cat-
erpillar this same process is performed, each per-
formance leaving its token ; so that our " profess-
or " enjoys the unique distinction of being able, in
his mature years, to look up to the head he wore
when he was a baby or youngster, and make it
useful, too, in keeping off the flies as he ponders
on the flight of time.
But this is not all our professor's peculiarities.
One day, as I came to look at my hump-backed
pets, I discovered that most of them had shrunk
a full third, and had refused to eat and, what sur-
prised me more, refused to wiggle. A closer ex-
amination of the box showed that while they had
ignored the lilac leaves, they had been gnawing
the pasteboard everywhere in the box, even per-
forating it with a number of holes. The cap-
tives in a thin wooden box were similarly affected,
and numbers of holes were to be seen. What did
"PROFESSOR WIGGLER" 79
it mean ? I had been expecting daily to see my
full-grown caterpillars either beginning their co-
coons or suspending themselves by their tails in
readiness for the chrysalis state. Yet they had
done neither. Their time had evidently come,
but they were not satisfied with their surround-
ings, and would seem to wish to escape ; and yet,
having gnawed their way to liberty, deliberately
remained in prison ! It was some days before I
correctly interpreted their curious contradictory
actions, and as I remember it now, my hint came
from a spider-web which had spread its catch all
beneath a lilac-bush, and upon which I discerned
a number of tiny balls of sawdust which had
chanced to fall upon it. Looking directly above,
among the branches, I soon found a wiggler, not
only gnawing the wood but with one-third of its
body in a burrow in a twig the size of my finger.
I had observed him thus for a few moments when
he began to back out, drawing with him a tiny
ball of sawdust, which he threw out with a slight
wiggle, and soon resumed operations.
Leaving him to his work, I lost no time in tak-
ing the hint, and my box was soon criss-crossed
with small twigs, and my remaining wigglers soon
found themselves at home and littered my box
with their chip pellets. The burrow is first made
diagonally to the pith, and then follows the centre
for about two-thirds of an inch. I remember hav-
ing about a half-dozen caterpil-
lars thus at work simultaneous-
ly. On the morrow, when I
opened the box, all signs of cat-
erpillars and bur-
rows had van-
ished. Though
I looked directly
upon the spot
where yesterday
I had surely seen
the open tunnel,
" PROFESSOR WIGGLER " 8 1
no vestige of it now appeared, and its where-
abouts could only be guessed by the slight rose-
colored stain which the caterpillar had left on
the bark below. What had happened ?
The burrows had been completed in the night,
and the caterpillars had retired into them, back-
ward presumably, and then spun over the open-
ing by a disk of silk, which they had finally, or in
the process, tinted the exact color of the external
surrounding bark. I have frequently exhibited
one of these sticks, with its inclosed caterpillar,
to curious friends, who were unable to locate, with-
out long and careful scrutiny, the mysterious cur-
tain. The twig, dried in a mild oven so as to kill
the inclosed caterpillar, or with its farther side
split off for his removal, would serve as an inter-
esting permanent specimen,
the delicate disk being oth-
erwise ruptured by the final
escape of the moth.
All of mine appeared in
the first week of July of the I
next year. They were small,
for the size of the caterpillar, yellowish- white
" millers," the fore wings beautifully mottled
and banded with brown, and each with three
conspicuous round spots of dull red, which feat-
ure has secured the insect its specific name
of " Trisignata " — Gramatophora trisignata be-
82 EYE SPY
ing the name of our professor in learned
circles.
His burrowing habits do not seem to be gener-
ally known, the only mention of which I have
chanced to observe merely alluding to the fact
that the "caterpillar has the unusual power of
boring very smooth cylindrical holes in solid pine
wood." But Professor Wiggler does not bore
wood for a pastime, as we have seen.
have been asked
once I have been
asked fifty times to explain
the secret of that frothy,
bubbly mass which clings
to the stems of grasses
and weeds in the sum-
mer meadows. Surely
no one of our readers
who has spent a June
or July in the country
can have failed to, ob-
serve it. Even as I
write, having just returned to my studio
by a short cut across a meadow near by,
my nether garments plainly show that I
must have come in contact with five hun-
84 EYE SPY
dred of them during these few rods. In the height
of its season this frothy nuisance monopolizes
many a meadow. No one, unless most ordinarily
clad, would care to wade through its slimy haunt.
Certainly no stroller in his "Sunday best," having
once experienced its unpleasant familiarity, would
willingly give it a second opportunity.
Its name, I find, varies in different localities, but
all, for obvious reasons, have the same salivary
significance. In various parts of New England,
for instance, it is known as cow -spit. In the
southern States the snake is held responsible for
it, as is shown in the popular name of snake-spit.
I have frequently heard it called frog-spit, cuckoo-
spit, toad-spit, and sheep-spit, and doubtless many
other local terms of the same sort may be found.
The cow -spittle theory, however, seems to have
the greatest number of converts. Let me, at
least, hasten to expose this miserable slander on
" our rural divinity." Have, then, our cows noth-
ing better to do than to go expectorating all over
the meadows, road -sides, and hay- fields? And
how busy, indeed, they must have been to so
thoroughly cover the ground, to say nothing of
their surprising aim, every glistening cluster of
bubbles being landed not helter-skelter on the
leaves and flowers, but only on the main stems
of the various plants upon which they are found !
Even in this little field outside my studio window,
" COW-SPIT, SNAKE-SPIT, AND FROG-SPIT " 85
which is thus generously moistened, what a task !
Why, it would certainly have taken at least ten
cows in industrious expectoration to have left it so
profusely decorated as now ; but the fact is, there
is not, nor has there been, a single cow in the field.
Only a few weeks ago I received a letter from
an Ohio boy who, among other things, wanted to
know what those slimy " gobs " on alders came
from. He said they called them "snake -spit"
out there, but that he had seen lots of them high-
er than any snake could get, unless it was a
" racer," meaning the blacksnake, which, as is well
known, is fond of climbing trees and bushes.
And later came a letter from a lady in Lewiston,
North Carolina, who had looked deeper into the
matter, and whose inquiry throws a little light on
the subject. She writes as follows :
" An old subscriber to ' Harper's Young Peo-
ple ' desires to express the pleasure which your
articles have afforded. ... I have just finished the
last, and have been out to examine the faded
primroses, but only a long-legged green spider re-
warded my search. Too late for our season."
The readers of " Young People " will recall my
article about the beautiful rosy moth which lives
in the faded evening primrose, and which was the
quest of the above writer, who further continues :
" I do not think you have written about what is
called here ' snake's - spittle,' a frothy exudation,
86 EYE SPY
perfectly white, surrounding a small speckled bee-
tle (I suppose). I found several on my chrysan-
themums about two weeks ago, but they seem to
have disappeared now."
This supposed " small speckled beetle " lets out
the secret of our " cow-spittle." The old cow is
acquitted, and also the snake, who has enough
mischief to answer for.
Each of these masses of bubbles is seen to sur-
round the stem, upon which it clings, out of con-
sideration to the popular tradition, spitted through
the centre, as it were, with its culm of grass or
branch of bramble or weed. But the true expec-
torat6r is within, laved in his own froth, his beak
embedded in the juicy stem, and his suds factory
continually at work. We have only to blow or
scrape off the white bubbles, and we shall disclose
him, even though he makes considerable effort to
dodge out of sight, either in the remnant froth or
around the stem. But it is not a beetle that we
at last bring to view. It would be hard, indeed,
for any one but a naturalist to decide on so short
an acquaintance precisely what to call him. He
is green and speckled in color, anywhere from a
quarter to half an inch in length, depending upon
his age, and somewhat to be anticipated in the
extent of his show of suds. He is wide of brow,
has rather prominent eyes, and tapers off some-
what wedge-shaped behind.
•i
m
/:
frt
To the bug
student these features are
very significant, and he is
not long in placing the
creature among his proper kin-
dred. He has a sucking beak,
which connects him with the
tribe of bugs, and other features
ally him to the cicada, a humble
though accomplished relative of
the buzzing harvest-fly or hornet. He dwells in
cool contentment here in his aerated bath, but he
has not thus put himself to soak as the end and aim
of his existence. Erelong he will graduate from
these moist surroundings, and we shall see quite
another sort of being, whom we would not dare to
affront by the mere mention of such an ignomini-
i
88 EYE SPY
ous, foamy existence. Here is one of them, which
has just flown in around our evening lamp, and
has settled upon my paper as I write. Not a
strange coincidence, by any means, for others very
like him have been there before when I have been
writing on various other topics, and are the cer-
tain representatives of that nocturnal swarm which
is always attracted by the light.
What a pretty atom he is as he rests here on
my paper, clad in his bright emerald green, and
only about a quarter of an inch in length ! Let
us catch him for our cabinet. But this is not so
simple, for, like the proverbial flea, I put my fin-
ger on him, and he isn't there, but is to be seen
yonder, at the farther edge of the table, the in-
stant I lift my finger-tip. And there are others
like him scattered about me beneath the lamp,
one especially with four brilliant scarlet bands on
his bright green wings, a near relative, though I
am not sure at this moment whether he dates
back to such a soaking as his little emerald fellow
just described. We must be quick indeed to
catch him, he is so alert ; and while his entire
visible emerald anatomy consists of a pair of nim-
ble wings, no one would guess it now, for he cer-
tainly does not use them as he speeds here and
there on our table. No, he has still another re-
source in those powerful hind legs of his, which
soon take him out of our reach when he con-
"COW-SPIT, SNAKE-SPIT, AND FROG-SPIT" 89
eludes to trust the spring. Here, then, is one of
the host of midgets who are responsible for our
soiled garments in our summer walks — the " frog-
hopper," or "spume-bearer," in his perfection. The
round of his life is thus given in Harris's beautiful
volume, " Insects Injurious to Vegetation":
" The ' frog-hoppers ' pass their whole lives on
plants, on the stems of which their eggs are laid
in the autumn. The following summer they are
hatched, and the young immediately perforate the
bark with their beaks, and begin to imbibe the
sap. They take in such quantities of this that it
oozes out of their bodies continually in the form
of little bubbles, which soon completely cover up
the insects. They thus remain entirely buried
and concealed in large masses of foam until they
have completed the final transformation, on which
account the names of cuckoo-spittle, frog-spittle,
and frog-hopper have been applied to them. The
spittle in which they are sheltered may be seen in
great abundance during the summer on the stems
of our alders and willows. In the perfect state
they are not thus protected, but are found on the
plants in the latter part of summer fully grown,
and preparing to lay their eggs. In this state
they possess the power of leaping in a remarkable
degree, and for this purpose the tips of their hind
shanks are surrounded with little spines."
The "spume-bearer" (Aphrophora) this insect
90 EYE SPY
has been called, and the peculiar method by which
he turns out the froth on the stem is well worth a
little study. He makes no secret of the process.
If we take a grass stem, remove him from his
liquid lair, and transfer him to another stem, we
may witness a novel method in the preparation of
suds. And a busy little factory it is, too, when we
consider what a continuous demand is made upon
it, caused by the sun's evaporation through the
long summer day. A single mass of bubbles with
its tenant removed quickly disappears. If the
little insect is permitted to crawl upon our hand,
he is apt to try the new domicile. I have never
been able to induce him to continue up to the
suds point, but have no trouble in locating the
place where he begins operations.
TT >
T* #
***
LEW of our common insects
enjoy a wider intimate ac-
quaintance with or a more respect-
ful recognition from humanity than
the wasps and hornets. Their ac-
quaintance, with that of their yellow-
jacket bee and bumble-bee relatives,
is forced upon most of us at a ten-
der and impressionable age, and leaves
a lasting reminiscence. Having once
been interviewed by a hornet, do we
not remember him for life for his pains ?
The bee has perhaps given us equally pointed
excuse for respectful, or rather disrespectful, con-
sideration, and yet how different is our attitude to
the bee in contrast with that towards the hornet!
Why? The discrimination is largely a matter of
Q2 EYE SPY
sentiment, but especially a matter of ignorance ;
sentiment as associated with fragrant flowers and
droning wings and " white-clover honey " — for do
we not all know the " busy bee," and how he
" gathers honey all the day " for the hive, and thus
for humanity arid the hot biscuit ? There is then
a palliative for the busy bee's " hot foot," as Paddy
described his first warm contact with the insect.
But who ever heard of any one with a good word
for the hornet ? He is under the ban — an outlaw,
the black sheep of the insect fraternity, a source
of uneasy suspicion, shunned by valiant man, good
for nothing to the boy except to shy stones at
from a safe retreat ; while to the fair sex, always
the signal for precipitate flight, if not hysterical
terror.
The popular verdict on the hornet is so well
voiced in that famous entomological essay from
the pen of Josh Billings that I am tempted to
quote it entire and use it for my present text. I
am sure the average reader will say " Amen " to
every word of it :
" The hornet is a red-hot child ov Nature ov
sudden impreshuns and a sharp konklusion. The
hornets alwus fites at short range and never argy
a case. They settle all ov their disputes bi letting
their javelin fly, an' are az certain an' az anxious
tew hit az a mule iz. Hornets bild their nest
wherever they take a noshun to, an' seldum are
THE PAPER WASP AND HIS DOINGS 93
asked to move ; for what good is it tew murder
99 hornets an' have the one hundred one hit you
with his javelin ! I kan't tell you just tew a day
how long a hornet kan live, but I kno from expe-
rience that every bug, be he hornet or somebody
else who is mad all the time, an' stings every
chance he kan git, generally outlives all ov his
nabors."
An artistically constructed paragraph, with a
" snapper " at the end of it, or rather a " sharp
konklusion " quite consistent with its subject.
" Mad all the time," he says, and " stings every
chance he can git," and such would seem to be
the unanimous belief. Indeed, the phrase " As
mad as a hornet " has passed into a proverb, which
presumably dates back to the Aryans, or at least
from the scriptural allusion of the providential
visitation of hornets, which routed the impious in-
habitants of Canaan before the conquering Israel-
ites. The ancient Greeks and Latins are on rec-
ord in their appreciation of the " warlike hornet,"
and considered that it came rightly by its valor
as an inheritance from the dead war-horse from
whose carcass the insects were supposed to be
spontaneously generated.
" The warlike horse if buried underground
Shortly a brood of hornets will be found,"
writes Ovid. Another author, Cardanus, thought
94
EYE SPY
that a dead mule was the more likely source,
which recalls the above erudite allusion of heredi-
tary instinct of Billings.
Yes, if time -honored popular prejudice is to
be accepted, the hornet is always on the ram-
page, always spoiling for a fight, always " mad " ;
and considering how many thousands of them
there are abroad, and what opportunity they
have of mischief, it is a wonder that poor hu-
manity is able to put its nose out of doors with
impunity.
Let us see how far this bad reputation is sus-
tained by the facts. What is this black paper
hornet (more properly wasp) doing from morning
till night? Buzzing among the flowers, creeping
over the bruised apple windfalls in the orchard,
whirling and dodging about the window or fence
or side of the house, or perhaps darting in our
faces as we sit at the open window.
Two episodes which I recall, in which this
white-tailed black wasp from the big paper nest
was conspicuous, occur to me as I write, and as
the two stories, taken together, will show us the
true character of the suspect, and what he is up
to all day long, I will narrate them.
The first instance is vivid in my memory. It
occurred in my boyhood — my boyhood ? how
many another boy remembers the same incident.
That same hot day in August, that same cool,
96 EYE SPY
shadowy swimming-hole in the brook, that same
gray paper nest on the overhanging branch a few
rods up stream ? What a tempting target ! How
the stones flew as, safe up to our necks in water,
if need be, we pelted the paper domicile ! And
now a lucky throw has gone straight to the mark.
With a crushing thud the stone has penetrated
the side and knocked off a piece of the gray wall,
which falls to the stream below, exposing the tiers
of paper comb, as a whirling, buzzy maze, like a
swarm of bees, enshrouds the mangled house.
Ah, what fun ! How we laughed at the sport !—
for at least ten seconds. Then the tide turned,
and how gladly had we possessed the art of the
bull-frog, and buried ourselves in the mud until
the storm blew over, for the " mad " warlike hor-
nets were upon us. The red-hot child of Nature
"was now at short range," and "stinging every
chance they could get." " When you see a head
hit it," seemed to be the plan of campaign, and of
course the heads had to come up once in a while,
and erelong were considerably enlarged, principal-
ly through inoculation, but let us hope with wis-
dom as well.
" A mad hornet, and only at a little boyish fun !
Look on this picture, and now on this."
I have shown our hornet under exceptional cir-
cumstances, when anger may be a positive virtue
and a means of grace. Following are some of
THE PAPER WASP AND HIS DOINGS 97
the every-day capers, which have not helped his
reputation, as I observed them on the crowded
porch of a summer hotel in the White Moun-
tains several years ago. It was in September,
and about twenty guests, mostly ladies and " sum-
mer girls," were assembled in a quiet social con-
vention.
Suddenly there was a scream, as one of the fair
ones, with a frantic, vigorous stroke of uplifted
fan, distorted face, and a cross-eyed glare, clutched
her roll of fancy-work and fled to the house. " Did
he sting you ?" asked her friend, who readily fol-
lowed her in the door. " The horrid hornet !" she
exclaimed. " No, he didn't sting me, but he would
have done if I hadn't hit him just that minute.
He flew right at me in the ugliest way!" The
words were hardly out of her mouth when another
scream was heard, followed by a general clear-
ing of the piazza. There were now two or three
" mad " hornets making themselves generally pro-
miscuous among the guests. At the last general
alarm one gentleman, an old bachelor, who sat
tilted back in his chair near by, remarked, with
an expression of superior disdain at such a silly
exhibition of feminine weakness: " Why, ladies,
the hornet won't sting you if you'll only let him
alone ; he has been buzzing around here for an
hour, and hasn't stung anybody yet."
At this moment, as fate would have it, the rov-
7
98 EYE SPY
ing hornet chanced to buzz around the speaker,
and with a distinct object and deliberate aim
plumped itself against his nose, amid a roar of
laughter from the gentlemen present, and the
complete discomfiture of the victim, who lost
his balance and toppled over sideways upon the
floor. He was now glad to follow the ladies in-
doors, and enjoy the fun at his expense. " Well,
it might have been expected," he remarked, " af-
ter the way you have all been screaming and
banging at him. You have got him mad at last,
and the innocent spectator has had to suffer in
consequence."
I chanced to be sitting within a few feet of the
surprised bachelor, and had observed the incident.
Indeed, the hornet had once or twice struck me
forcibly upon my coat sleeve and shoulder. Con-
cluding that the incident suggested an opportu-
nity for a little pedagogic enlightenment, illus-
trated by an object-lesson too good to be entirely
los.t, I sauntered into the hotel parlor, and did
what I could to relieve the hornet from the unjust
aspersion on his character.
" Did he sting you ?" I asked.
"No, he didn't," replied the victim, who, like
the ladies whom he had ridiculed, was more sur-
prised than harmed ; " but he tried to, and I
concluded not to give him a second chance.
He struck me so hard that if his sting had
happened to hit me,
it would have pene-
trated my skull."
"And can you im-
agine a hornet fail-
ing in his intention
when he gets such
a good square shot
as that ?" I asked,
further.
" Well, no," he re-
plied ; " but perhaps
his venom had been
expended on the la-
dies; by their screams
I judge most of them must have been stung a
half-dozen times apiece."
" If you will step out on the porch a few mo-
100 EYE SPY
ments," I proposed, " I am assured you will soon
be disposed to offer your apology to the indus-
trious and innocent insect which you have so
libelled."
A cautious group soon assembled at the door-
way of the piazza, and at my suggestion closely
watched the antics of the hornet, which was still
apparently as mad as ever, in the absence of hu-
man targets, seemingly "working off his mad " by
butting his head against the clapboards along the
side of the building. After a moment or two of
this exercise, with a quick curvet, the insect be-
took himself to the roof of the piazza, where he
disappeared among the bordering vines. A little
cautious search soon revealed his hiding-place,
however. He was hanging, head downward, by
one of his hind legs, twirling some dark object in
his front feet; and it needed only a little closer
examination to disclose this object to be a fly,
which was gradually being reduced to a pulp by
the sharp jaws of its captor — a morsel, doubtless,
soon to find its way to the cell of a baby hornet
in some paper nest close by.
"You will now doubtless understand that pre-
cipitate onslaught on your nose," I remarked to
my bachelor friend. " Rest assured that the at-
traction of that aquiline member alone would
never have caused the panic that ensued ; but you
did not give our hornet the credit for the removal
THE PAPER WASP AND HIS DOINGS
IOI
of that pesky fly which had been annoying you
for so long, and which is even now being masti-
cated into an unctuous pellet in some secluded
corner of the piazza, or is perhaps being borne on
buzzing maternal wings to the little
white grub in the hornet nest yon-
der in the pines."
And this is all there
is to the "mad" of the
hornet. He is gener-
ally not half as mad
as are his detractors.
He is simply minding
his own business, and
is as busy as a bee in
his own way ; and if
his critics will only
mind theirs, there
need be no fear that
he will try " konklu-
sions" with them, or
even give a hint of
his " javelin."
This curious epi-
sode may be witnessed by any one who will take
the trouble to closely observe the wasp. The
sunny side of the barn or stable is generally the
favorite hunting - ground, and any one who will
spend a half -hour in following the efforts of a
;
102 EYE SPY
single wasp will have to admit that he earns his
living, for it is not every fly that is caught nap-
ping, and that white face, with its eager, open jaws,
must needs butt itself against the shingle many
times before its quest is satisfied.
But the warlike hornet does not always content
himself with such small game as a house-fly. Big
bluebottle-flies are a frequent prey, and juicy cat-
erpillars are a welcome variety in his daily diet.
Even the butterfly, with a body nearly as large as
his own, falls a frequent victim, the scimitar-like
jaws severing the painted wings in a twinkling,
either during flight, or falling one by one from its
dangling retreat.
The life of the black hornet, or wasp, may be
briefly summed up. The females survive the win-
ter, and in spring build a tiny comb of papery
material composed of saliva and timber scraped
from old gray boards and fence rails. In each
cell of the comb an egg is laid, which soon hatches
into a minute white grub, the sides of the cells
being continued to accommodate its growth, the
comb being gradually inclosed in the paper cover-
ing and enlarged as the nest cells are increased.
The grub at maturity incases itself within its
cell by closing the orifice with a silken veil, and
soon turns to a chrysalis, and in a few days
emerges as a perfect wasp. Several broods are
reared in a season, the combs being extended in
THE PAPER WASP AND HIS DOINGS 103
several layers, each suspended by a single stalk
from the centre of the one immediately above. A
single nest sometimes presents as many as six or
seven tiers. But the nests are much more safely
examined in winter than in summer.
*
BSERVERS who witnessed from
day to day the construction of
the great Brooklyn Bridge were
often heard to remark, as they
looked up with awe from the
ferry-boats beneath at the workmen suspended
everywhere among the net-work of cables, " Those
men look just like spiders in a web." The com-
parison seemed irresistible, and the writer heard
it expressed many times. But how few who
gave utterance to the sentiment realized the
full significance of the " spider " allusion, or for
a moment reflected that the span itself was, in
many particulars of its construction, but a par-
allel of an engineering feat of which the spider
was the earliest discoverer. Yet among all the
distinguished names engraved upon the memorial
THE SPIDER'S SPAN 105
tablet upon the stone bridge-tower the spider gets
no credit.
Day after day and week after week we might
have seen, travelling back and forth against the
sky, a wheel-shaped messenger reeling off its tiny
wire. Night and day it was busy, each trip add-
ing one more strand to the growing cable which
was to support the great substructure below.
And what was this travelling wheel called ?
" The carrier," or " traveller," if I remember right-
ly. Why this obviously intentional slight and
discourtesy when every field and wood and copse
in the country — indeed, on the globe — showed its
living example, and bore its myriadfold witness
that the " spider " was the only legitimate and
proper designation ?
In the other most notable suspension-bridge, at
Niagara, the time-honored methods of the spider
were further and conspicuously recognized, but
here again without any courteous engraven ac-
knowledgment on the tablet of fame, so far as I
have learned.
A kite was flown from the American shore, and
reeled out so as to fall upon the Canadian side,
and this initial strand was drawn across, and sub-
sequently strengthened by the travelling reel.
The ends of the added wires were firmly se-
cured at their anchorage, and the completed cable
at length re-enforced by guy-ropes.
IO6 EYE SPY
What is the method of our spider? Ages be-
fore the advent of the human engineer he fol-
lowed the same tactics which we now see him
performing in every meadow, or even at our win-
dow-sill, or on the bouquet upon our table, linking
flower with flower, window-sill with garden fence,
bush with bush, tree with tree, with his glistening
suspension-bridge spanning the stream, river, and
meadow. This wiry thread that tightens across
our face as we ride in our carriage, and leaves its
tingling " snap " upon our nose, what is this but
the model suspension cable of Arachne strength-
ened a hundredfold by the spider which has trav-
elled back and forth over its course for hours per-
haps, each trip leaving a fresh strand, one extrem-
ity being anchored on yonder oak in the meadow
and the other on the church steeple ? Such a
cable twenty feet in length is a common chal-
lenge in our walks in the open wood road, even
making a perceptible motion among the leaves
and bending twigs on either side ere it yields to
our advance. And to the walker who cares to in-
vestigate, a silken bridge a hundred feet in length
is not a very exceptional find.
This bridge-building is nbt confined to any par-
ticular month or season, nor to any one species of
spider. The autumn will afford us the best op-
portunity for observation. At that season the
spider-egg tufts are turning out their baby spi-
THE SPIDER S SPAN
TO/
ders by the millions, each a perfect grown spider
in miniature, and apparently as skilled at birth in
the peculiar arts of its kind as its parents were in
their ripe old age. Here is a troop of them upon
this drooping branch of wild grape by the river
brink. Its leaves are glistening in the loose,
rambling tangle which marks their wanderings.
They are evidently not satisfied with
their present surroundings, and would
seem desirous of getting
as far as possible from
-. • ;.->• /
IO8 EYE SPY
the neighborhood of their cradle and swaddling-
clothes. They are the most independent and
self - reliant babies on record. They ask advice
from no one — indeed their mother died a year
ago, perhaps — but each determines to leave his
brothers and sisters, to " see the world " for him-
self, and paddle his own canoe.
Fancy a first trial trip on a tight- rope from
the torch of the Statue of Liberty to Govern-
or's Island ! Yet such is the corresponding
feat accomplished by this self - reliant acrobat,
which a few days or perhaps hours ago was but
an egg!
Here is one family of spiderlings upon the
grape-vine spray, for instance. They are hanging
several yards above the water, and with an ocean,
as it were, between them and the distant country
upon which their hearts are set. But there is no
hesitation or misgiving. Let us closely observe
this eager youngster far out upon the point of the
leaf. The breeze is blowing across the brook.
In an instant, upon reaching the edge of the leaf,
the spiderling has thrown up the tip of its body,
and a tiny, glistening stream is seen to pour out
from its group of spinnerets. Farther and farther
it floats, waving Across the water like a pennant.
Two, three, five, ten, fifteen feet are now seen glis-
tening in the sun. Now it floats in among the
herbage upon the opposite bank, and seems reach-
ing out for a foothold. In
a minute more its tip has
brushed against a tall group
of asters, and clings fast, the
loose span sagging in the
breeze, and as we turn our
attention to the spider,
we see that he has turned about,
and is now " hauling in the slack,"
which he continues to do until the
span is taut, when he anchors it
firmly to the leaf, and without a
1 10 EYE SPY
moment's ceremony steps out upon his tight-rope,
and makes the " trial trip " across the abyss — a
feat which Dr. McCook, the spider specialist and
historian, has most felicitously compared to the
similar trial trip of Engineer Farrington across
the cable of the East River Bridge, a thrilling
event which was witnessed by thousands of spec-
tators from sailing craft and housetops.
Our spider has now reached the asters twenty
feet away, and is doubtless busying himself by
further securing the anchorage at this terminus.
It is quickly done, for see, he is even now far out
over the water on his return trip, arriving at the
grape leaf a moment later. His strand is now
three times as strong as at first, and will be many
times stronger before he is satisfied with it. An
hour later, if we care to go up-stream half a mile
to the bridge, or half a mile below to the crossing
pole, for the sake of examining those asters across
the brook, we shall find our spiderling nicely set-
tled in a tiny little home of his own. The glis-
tening span is now like a tough silken thread,
and is moored to the head of flowers by a half-
dozen guy-threads in all directions, while in their
midst, in the " nave of his tiny wheel of lace," our
smart young baby rests from his labors.
Such is the probable course which he would
follow, unless, perhaps, his roving spirit, thus
tempted, has further asserted itself, and not con-
THE SPIDER'S SPAN in
tent with this exploit, he has concluded to span
the clouds, and is even now sailing a thousand
feet aloft in his " balloon."
As a bridge-builder he has had many success-
ful imitators, but as a balloonist he is yet more
than a match for his bigger copyist, homo sapiens,
as I shall explain in a subsequent paper.
•t '
*;:
* 3
v*4
*. mA\ «* vL j.
$ .4.
V
-r
HE coun-
try boy, or
I might
say even
country baby, who does not
know a spider-web when he
sees it would be considered
a curiosity nowadays. The
morning gossamer spread in
the grass or hung among
the weeds and glistening ia
BALLOONING SPIDERS 11$
the dew — who has not seen it, and thought of the
agile, long-legged proprietor somewhere lurking
near by ? And yet for ages, and until a compara-
tively recent date, this cobweb, either trailing
lightly in the breeze or spread in the grass, was a
mystery as to its source, and was believed to con-
sist of dew burned by the sun. But the spider
has hoodwinked even the wise heads in many
other ways, and even to-day is an unsolved mys-
tery to many of us. Yes, we all know the spider-
web and the spider, but have we tried to solve
the puzzle which he spreads before us by every
path, in our window-blind, our office, our bedroom,
or even, it may be, in mid -ocean. Here, for in-
stance, a puzzled nautical friend propounds the
question: " How do those tiny spiders get on my
yacht when I am twenty miles at sea ? They
could not have hatched simultaneously all over
the ship, and I find them by the dozens all over
the sails and rigging, and even on my clothing."
I have heard of a little girl who ran in - doors to
her mother in great excitement to tell her that it
was " snowin' 'pider-webs," a picturesque and true
statement as far as it goes, but which tells but
half the story, for each of the falling webs held a
pretty secret. What that secret was my yachts-
man can readily guess, for the two half -stories
taken together complete the tale. Various ac-
counts of these gossamer showers have been
114 EYE SPY
handed down in history, and were always a mys-
tery. Even the ancient Pliny records a " rain of
wool," a phenomenon which, in a greater or less
degree, is to be seen by every walker in the coun-
try during the late summer and autumn months —
the annual picnic of the " ballooning spiders,"
whose peculiar aeronautic methods are shown in
my illustration.
Gilbert White, in his " History of Selborne,"
written over a hundred years ago, gives a
most graphic account of one of these cobweb
showers :
" On September the 2ist, 1741," he says, " being
then on a visit, and intent on field diversions, I
rose before daybreak. When I came into the en-
closures, I found the stubbles and clover grounds
matted all over with a thick coat of cobweb, in
the meshes of which a copious and heavy dew
hung so plentifully that the whole face of the
country seemed as it were covered with two or
three setting-nets drawn one over another. When
the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were so
blinded and hoodwinked that they could not pro-
ceed, but were obliged to lie down and scrape off
the encumbrances from their faces with their
fore feet, so that finding my sport interrupted, I
returned home musing on the oddness of the oc-
currence. . . . About nine o'clock an appearance
very unusual began to demand my attention — a
BALLOONING SPIDERS 115
shower of cobwebs falling from very elevated re-
gions, and continuing without any interruption
until the close of day. These webs are not sin-
gle filmy threads floating in the air in all di-
rections, but perfect flakes or rags, some near
an inch broad and five or six long, which fell
with a degree of velocity that showed they
were considerably heavier than the atmosphere.
On every side, as the observer turned his eyes,
he might behold a continual succession of fresh
flakes falling into his sight, and twinkling like
stars as they turned their sides to the sun."
This same shower was witnessed by others, and
one observer noted a similar one from the summit
of a high mountain, the sky above him to the
limit of his vision glistening with the silvery flakes.
White adds, further : " Strange and supersti-
tious as were the notions about gossamers former-
ly, nobody in these days doubts that they are the
real production of small spiders, which swarm in
the fields in fine weather in autumn, and have a
power of shooting out webs from their tails, so as
to render themselves buoyant and lighter than the
air."
I have italicized a phrase which is most sug-
gestive, for such is the actual resource of the
spider balloonist, a feat which may be witnessed
by any one at the expense of a little trouble and
patience.
u6
EYE SPY
-
Almost any bright autumn or late summer day
is certain to reward our search — indeed, a search
will hardly be necessary. The entire meadows
are often draped in the glistening meshes. They
festoon the grass tips,,
and wave their silken
streamers from every
mullein or other tall
weed. Our garments are
soon faced with a new
warp and woof of
glistening silk, and
an occasional tick-
ling betrays the
floating fluffy mass
which has en-
combed our hands
or face. The glis-
tening " rain of
wool " of Pliny, or the
mimic snow - squall of
Gilbert White, I have
witnessed many times,
only in less degree, over
the October rowen-fields.
This tickling upon our hands is perhaps not all
to be accounted for by the mere contact of the
silky web. If we examine closely, we shall doubt-
less find a lively little spider extricating itself
BALLOONING SPIDERS 117
from its unsatisfactory anchorage, and creeping to
the nearest available position for a new flight.
Even as you are examining the web upon your
hand the spry midget has mounted to the top of
your finger, and is off on his new silken balloon
in a twinkling, sailing upward and out of sight
even while his fellow-aeronauts are falling right
and left. For this flying-machine, though a toy,
as it were, of the wind, is still under control of the
wise little sailor at the helm.
Almost any one of these flying tufts intercepted
on our finger or upon a small stick will induce its
little aeronaut to make a new start, and a careful
examination with a pocket magnifier will disclose
his secret. No matter how slight the breeze, he
seems instantly to head against it, the abdomen
is then raised, and in a moment a tiny stream of
flossy glistening silk is seen issuing from the
spinnerets beneath. Not the ordinary single web
which we all know, but a broad band which rep-
resents the many hundreds of strands usually
combined in the single thread, but now permitted
to issue singly from the spinnerets. White speaks
of the spider " shooting out " the web, and such
is the apparent feat, but doubtless the breeze as-
sists in the operation. It is certainly taking good
care of this floating banner from the loom of this
little spinner upon our finger-tip. Longer and
longer it grows. A yard or more of its length is
Il8 EYE SPY
soon swaying about in the breeze. So buoyant
has it now become that the little spider is vis-
ibly drawn upward, and now clings barely by
his tip- toes. In another second he is off on
his travels, where few could follow him even
if they would. But this we must do if we
would see the true "balloon," with its basket
and rigging and captain all in perfect sailing
trim.
Up to the point of ascension — to utter a Hi-
bernianism — I have often thus followed my bal-
loonist, but at this point I willingly yield the
pursuit to a more competent witness, one whose
recognized fame as the historian of the whole
spider fraternity needs no emphasis from me.
They have kept very few of their secrets from the
Rev. Dr. McCook. He has followed them even
in their flight, and has brought back all the tricks
of their navigation. To have been able to de-
scribe as an eye-witness not only the ascension,
but the subsequent alert and skilful rigging, trim-
ming of ship, sailing, reefing, and final anchoring
in port of this aeronaut with the silken jib, as Dr.
McCook has done, acquiring his facts through a
wild pantomime in the meadows, which for a time
risked his reputation for sanity, is a triumph of
patient investigation which deserves conspicuous
acknowledgment.
Here is what the doctor observed while his
BALLOONING SPIDERS 1 19
neighbors, as he ran cross-eyed over the meadow,
were bewailing the loss of his reason :
" The spider, as she was raised from the perch,
had her head downward. She immediately and
swiftly reverses her position, clambers up her
floating threads, at the same time throwing out a
few filaments, which are cunningly twisted into a
sort of basket into which the feet can rest. Now
the upper legs grasp the lower of the ray, and the
spinnerets, being released therefrom, are again set
to work, and with amazing rapidity spin out a sec-
ond and similar ray, which floats up behind her.
Thus our aeronaut's balloon is complete, and she
sits in the middle of it, drifting whither the breeze
may carry her. She is not wholly at the mercy
of the wind, however, for if she wishes to alight,
she can gather the threads into a little white ball
under her jaws ; as they gradually shorten, the
spider, having nothing to buoy her, sinks by her
own weight, and the striking upon some elevated
object, or falling upon the grass, makes her feel
at home."
Having once alighted, the little pioneer imme-
diately sets up house-keeping for herself, and the
locality of its web in a year hence will doubtless
be the scene of a similar balloon ascension, multi-
plied perhaps a thousandfold, from the neighbor-
hood of a tuft of eggs somewhere concealed
among the herbage — perhaps a brown, cocoon-
120
EYE SPY
like affair like that of the Argiope riparia, hung
with its guy threads upon a dried fern.
The ballooning or flying spiders are not con-
fined to any partic-
ular species. It seems
to be an instinct with
them all, but espe-
cially with the orb-
weavers, or geometri-
cal web -makers, and
the wolf spiders ;
those queer short-
legged specimens
which dodge about upon the
walls and fences, running for-
ward or backward as the whim
takes them, or even sideways
in a manner at which a crab
might turn green with envy,
A shower of cobwebs of unusual extent fell in
the vicinity of Brooklyn about ten years ago. hav-
ing been especially noted by a party of surveyors
BALLOONING SPIDERS 121
in Prospect Park, among whom was a noted sci-
entist and naturalist. The ground was covered
with the webs, averaging as many as fifteen to the
square foot. The shower was later noticed by
the same observers upon the summit of the
Brooklyn Bridge tower, and doubtless covered
several miles in area.
ACE indeed! Was ever lace even
of fairy queen fashioned so daintily
as are the wings of this diaphanous
/ pale green sylph, that flutters in its filmy
halo above the grass tips ? Yonder it alights
upon the clover. Let us steal closely upon
its haunt. Here we find it hid under the up-
per leaf, its eyes of fiery gold gleaming in the
shadow, its slender body now caged within the
canopy of its four steep, sloping wings, their
glassy meshes lit with iridescent hues of opal —
the lace-wing fly, a delight to the eye, but whose
fragile being is guarded from our too rude ap-
proach by a challenge to our sense of smell,
which plainly warns us, " Touch not, handle not !"
Our first capture of the fairy insect is always a
memorable feat, with its lingering, odorous re-
THE LACE-WING FLY 123
minders, which not even soap and hot water will
entirely obliterate from our finger-tips. But why
should we have caught her? What an opportu-
nity we threw away in her capture ! Why not,
rather, have followed the gauzy sprite, and learned
something of her ways, something of the mission
she is performing as she flits from leaf to leaf?
For this is no idle flight of the lace-wing fly as
we see her in the summer meadow. Her golden
eyes are on a sharp lookout for a certain quest,
and we are fortunate if we chance to surprise her
softly at the time of her discovery, and with
breathless stillness encourage her in the fulfil-
ment of her plans. Everywhere among the grass-
es, weeds, and bushes we find the airy tokens of
her visits; those delicate, hair-like fringes sur-
rounding culm or twig, or growing like a tiny tuft
of some webby mould upon the surface of leaf.
But who even guesses the nature of the pretty
fringe, or even associates with it the pale green
golden-eyed fly which we all know so well ?
Here beneath our close leaf is an opportunity
which we must not permit to pass. Even as we
take another cautious peep we discover that a
cobwebby hair has grown from the surface of the
leaf, with its tiny knob at the summit ; and now
another is growing- beside it, following the pointed
rising tip of the insect's slender tail. It has now
reached a half -inch in length, when the little
124 EYE SPY
knob suddenly appears and is firmly glued to the
summit of the hair. Another and another are
added to the group, until a complete tuft or fringe
hangs beneath the leaf. Of course the reader
will have now guessed the secret of the episode —
that this is a mother lace-wing fly thinking only
of her future brood. But what a unique method
she employs in egg -laying! What seeming
reckless consideration for her offspring ! Fancy
awakening from one's crib only to find one's self
on the top of a telegraph pole, or clinging tor
dear life at the end of a dangling rope or rod !
Yet such is the initial experience of the baby lace-
wing flies as they emerge from their filmy, iri-
descent cradles, whose very first experience in life
must needs be a daring feat of acrobatics. But
hunger is a mighty incentive to work and dar-
ing deeds, and the lace - wing infant is born
hungry, grows hungrier with each moment of its
subsequent life, and is apparently the more fam-
ished in proportion to its gluttony, fully realiz-
ing the comment of Josh Billings upon the vora-
cious billy-goat, " All it eats seems tew go tew
apetight."
We may be sure that this gauzy mother -fly,
with her appetizing reminiscences of her former
epicurean days, has placed her progeny in a land
of plenty — a land almost literally of "milk and
honey." For wherever we find this delicate
THE LACE-WING FLY
125
fringe of pale green eggs we may confidently
look also for its counterpart — a swarm of aphides,
or plant-lice, somewhere in the neighborhood, oc-
casionally clustering about the very stalks of the
eggs, and shedding their copious "honey-dew " for
the benefit of the
caressing ants,
which sip at
their upraised,
flowing pipes.
Ah ! if these
happy ants only
realized
menace of
slender
— who knows
but that they
the
this
fringe
may
? — how
quickly they
were to be cut
down by the de-
stroying teeth !
Here, for instance, a wee babe just out of the
egg slides down the stalk, and falls plump among
a whole family of the aphides. In a twinkling a
young aphis larger than himself is impaled on his
sharp teeth and its body sucked dry. But this is
merely an appetizer; he has only to extend his
jaws on right or left to secure another similar
126 EYE SPY
morsel, which is emptied in the same manner, and
his first meal would only seem to be limited by
the number of victims available, so insatiate is his
craving. In a short time he must needs move up
farther along the twig, and thus his swath ex-
tends, until within an incredibly short space of
time the entire swarm of aphides has disappeared,
leaving the field occupied alone by the larva, who
has perhaps now acquired his full growth by their
absorption — a full-fledged "aphis lion," as he is
called. He is now about a half-inch in length, a
long pointed oval in outline, the sides of its body
beset with bristly warts, and its head armed with
two long incurved teeth. But these teeth are not
like ordinary teeth, constructed for "chewing" or
biting, but rather for imbibing, and suggest the
two straws in the glass of the convivialist ; being
tubular, their open points are imbedded within
the juicy body of the aphis, which is soon emptied
to the last drop.
The aphides are always with us. Where is the
lover of the rose-garden who is not painfully
familiar with the pests, their pale green swarms
completely encircling the tender shoots, and shed-
ding their sticky, shining " honey - dew " every-
where like a varnish upon the leaves and flowers
beneath. Hardly a plant or tree escapes their
parasitic attacks in one form or another, where,
with their beaks imbedded in the tender bark,
they suck the sap,
and literally over-
flow with the bounty
which they thus ab-
sorb and convert into " honey-
dew."
We need not go very far in
our country walk to discover
our aphides encircling the
stems of weed and shrub, and
it is well the next time we
encounter them to observe
them more closely. They
would indeed appear at first
glance to be having things en-
tirely their own way. Even
here in my city back yard,
for instance, upon my grow-
ing chrysanthemums, as I sit at the back win-
dows some twenty feet distant, I can distinctly
see their brown, disfiguring masses completely
inclosing the under tips of nearly all the
branches.
128
EYE SPY
Again and again have I shaken or brushed
them off only to see them increase and multiply ;
and, on the other hand, on more than one occa-
sion have I seen an entire swarm vanish from a
particular twig which I knew was infested only a
day or two previous. Why? It was not that the
aphides had completed their growth and died or
fled. A careful examination among the young
leaves or along the stem in their neighborhood
showed the author of the havoc, a fat aphis lion,
perhaps, in the act of sucking the contents of
its last victim, or, perhaps, having completed his
growth, contemplating the commencement of his
cocoon in which to abide during the winter.
THE LACE-WING FLY 129
Almost any swarm of aphides will show us this
fat wolf in the fold, and if not this particular one,
another — perhaps two others — quite as voracious,
one of them the fat larva of the lady-bug, and the
other a tapering- looking grub with needle beak
and insatiable hunger, the larva of the gold-
banded flower-fly.
,r
URPRISES await us at
every turn in wood and
field if our senses are suf-
ficiently alert and responsive. I well
remember the singular revelation which
THE PERFUMED BEETLE 131
rewarded my curiosity upon a certain occasion in
my boyhood, an incident which now seems trivial
enough, but which marked a rare day in my
youthful entomological education, and which, as
it relates to an insect of exceptional peculiarity,
I may here recall.
I was returning homeward after a successful
day of hide-and-seek with the caterpillars and
butterflies and beetles, my well-stored collecting-
box being rilled with squirming and creeping
specimens, and my hat brim adorned with a swarm
of Idalias, Archippus, yellow swallow-tails, and
other butterflies — the butterfly-net on this partic-
ular occasion being rendered further useless by
the occupancy of a big red adder which I wished
to preserve "alive and sissin'." I had taken a
short cut through the woods, and had paused to
rest on a well-known mossy rock. The welcome
odors of the woods, the mould, the dank moss,
and the spice-bush lingered about me ; and I well
remember the occasional whiff from the fragrant
pyrolas somewhere in my neighborhood, though
unseen. It was a very warm day in the middle
of July, and even the busiest efforts of millions of
cool, fluttering leaves of the shadowed woods had
barely tempered the languid breeze, laden as it
was with the reminders of the glaring hay-field
just outside its borders.
Among all the various odorous waftings that
132 EYE SPY
came to me, I caught a whiff which was entirely
new, and which in its suggestions seemed strange-
ly out of place here in the woods. What was it
like ? It certainly reminded me of something with
which my nostril was familiar, but which I could
not now identify. I only knew that it had no
place here in the woods, and even as I sought to
take one extra full sniff for further analysis, it was
gone. After the lapse of a few moments, how-
ever, its faint suggestion returned, and, increasing
moment by moment, at length seemed to tincture
the air like incense. It was now so strong as to
be pungent, and my wits were keyed to their ut-
most, until at length a vision of a banana peel
seemed to hover against the dried leaves. " Some
one has been eating a banana here, and thrown
the peel away," thought I. But no, this is hardly
the odor of banana, either; it is more like pine-
apple. Yes, it is pineapple. No, that is not quite
it either ; it is strawberry. " Nonsense. Straw-
berry season was passed two weeks ago." And
while I am debating the matter the spice-bush at
my elbow has sent out a pungent challenge which
has chased the enchantment all away. The next
time it returns in a new guise, and the only sug-
gestion which it brings is a reminder of my moth-
er's red leather travelling-bag. Russia- leather ?
Yes, that is it — Russia-leather. No. Russia-leather,
pineapple, strawberry, and banana peel mixed.
-
Whatever it
was and wher-
ever it came
from I now
determined to
discover. The direction of the breeze was soon
ascertained, and I started out to follow up the
scent like a hound. I had walked about ten
feet, with my nose tingling, when the odor sud-
denly left me. I paused at a large maple -tree,
and awaited the trail. It came. This time it
proved to be a hot scent, in truth. I needed
only to follow my nose around the trunk of the
tree at my elbow to be brought face to face with
my game. It was no banana peel, nor pineapple,
134 EYE SPY
nor Russia-leather bag, but only a company of
beetles sipping in the sun. A banquet of beetles !
There were ten or a dozen of them, congregated
about a hole in the maple trunk, all sipping at a
furrow in the bark from which sap was oozing.
At my approach they started to conceal them-
selves in the hole, but were most of them capt-
ured. They were about an inch in length, and
of a purplish - brown color, and glistened like
bronze.
I took my prizes home, and determined to an-
nounce my great discovery to the world in an
early issue of some scientific paper, fully assured
that I had made a " great find." Before accom-
plishing this purpose, however, I thought I would
consult my "oracle," "Harris's Insects Injurious
to Vegetation" — a most beautiful and valuable
entomological work, by-the-way, which should be
in every boy's library. There, on page forty-two,
behold my odorous specimen, true to life ! And
what does Harris say about him ? " They are
nocturnal insects, and conceal themselves through
the day in the crevices and hollows of trees, where
they feed upon the sap that flows from the bark.
They have the odor of Russia-leather, and give
this out so powerfully that their presence can be
detected by the scent alone at the distance of two
or three yards from the place of their retreat.
This strong smell suggested the name Osmoder-
THE PERFUMED BEETLE 135
ma, ' scented skin,' given to these beetles by the
French naturalists."
" Nocturnal " they may be, but that they are
diurnal also I have many times proved. Almost
any hot sunny day I am even now sure of my
specimen upon a certain oozy cherry trunk near
by, the presence even of one beetle being distinct-
ly announced at a distance of ten feet.
There are two common species of these beetles,
the present insect being the Osmoderma scabei, as
given by Harris.
THE dusty puff-ball, floating its faint
trail of smoke in the breeze from the
ragged flue at its dome -shaped roof
as from an elfin tepee, or perhaps enveloping our
feet in its dense purple cloud as we chance to
step upon it in the path, is familiar to every one
— always enthusiastically welcomed by the small
MUSHROOM SPORE-PRINTS 137
boy, to whom it is always a challenge for a kick,
and a consequent demonstration of smoke worthy
of a Fourth -of -July celebration.
A week ago this glistening gray bag, so free
with its dust-puff at the slightest touch, was solid
in substance and as white as cottage cheese in the
fracture.
But in a later stage this clear white fracture
would have appeared speckled or peppered with
gray spots, and the next day entirely gray and
much softened, and, later again, brown and appar-
ently in a state of decay. But this is not decay.
This moist brown mass becomes powdery by
evaporation, and the puff-ball is now ripe, and in-
tent only on posterity.
Each successive squeeze as we hold it between
our fingers yields its generous response in a puff
of brown smoke, which melts away apparently
into air. But the puff-ball does not end in mere
smoke. This vanishing purple cloud is com-
posed of tiny atoms, so extremely minute as to re-
quire the aid of a powerful microscope to reveal
their shapes. Each one of these atoms, so imma-
terial and buoyant as to be almost without gravi-
ty, floating away upon the slightest breath, or
even wafted upward by currents of warm air from
the heated earth, has within itself the power of re-
producing another clump of puff-balls if only fort-
une shall finally lodge it in congenial soil. These
138 EYE SPY
spores are thus analogous to the seeds of ordinary
plants. We have seen the myriadfold dispersion
of its potential atoms in the cloud of spore-smoke
from the puff-ball, but who ever thinks of a spore-
cloud from a mushroom or a toadstool ? Yet the
same method is followed by all the other fungi,
but with less conspicuousness. The puff-ball
gives a visible salute, but any one of the common
mushrooms or toadstools will afford us a much
prettier and more surprising account of itself if
we but give it the opportunity. This big yellow
toadstool out under the poplar-tree, its golden cap
studded with brownish scurfy warts, its under sur-
face beset with closely plaited laminae or gills,
who could ever associate the cloud of dry smoke
with this moist, creamy-white surface ? We may
sit here all day and watch it closely, but we shall
see no sign of anything resembling smoke or
dust. But even so, a filmy mist is continually
floating away from beneath its golden cap, the
eager breeze taking such jealous care of the con-
tinual shower that our eyes fail to perceive a hint
of it.
Do you doubt it ? You need wait but a few
moments for a proof of the fact in a pretty exper-
iment, which, when once observed, will certainly
be resorted to as a frequent pastime in leisure
moments when the toadstool or mushroom is at
hand.
Spore Surface of a Polyporus
Here is a very ordinary - looking specimen
growing beside the stone steps at our back door
perhaps. Its top is gray; its gills beneath are fawn-
color. We may shake it as rudely as we will, and
yet we shall get no response such as the puff-ball
will give us. But let us lay it upon a piece of
white paper, gills downward, on the mantel, and
cover it with a tumbler or finger-bowl, so as to ab-
solutely exclude the least admission of air. At
the expiration of five minutes, perhaps, we may
detect a filmy, pinkish-yellow tint on the paper,
following beneath the upraised border of the cap,
like a shadow faintly lined with white. In a
Spore Surface of a Polygaric
140 EYE SPY
quarter of an hour the tinted deposit is percepti-
ble across the room ; and in an hour, if we care-
fully raise the mushroom, the perfect spore-print
is revealed in all its beauty — a pink-brown disk
with a white centre, which represents the point of
contact of the cut stem, and white radiating lines,
representing the edges of the thin gills, many of
them as fine and delicate as a cobweb.
Every fresh species will yield its surprise in the
markings and color of the prints.
These spore-deposits are of course fugitive, and
will easily rub off at the slightest touch. But in-
asmuch as many of these specimens, either from
their beauty of form or exquisite color, or for edu-
cational or scientific purposes, it will be desirable
to preserve, I append simple rules for the mak-
ing of the prints by a process by which they will
become effectually "fixed," and thus easily kept
without injury.
DIRECTIONS FOR MAKING A MUSHROOM SPORE-PRINT
Take a piece of smooth white writing-paper
and coat its surface evenly with a thin solution of
gum-arabic, dextrine, or other mucilage, and allow
it to dry. Pin this, gummed side uppermost, to a
board or table, preferably over a soft cloth, so that
it will lie perfectly flat. To insure a good print the
mushroom specimen should be fresh and firm, and
the gills or spore-surface free from breaks or bruises.
Cut the stem off
about level with the
gills, then lay the mush-
room, spore - surface
downward, upon the paper, and cover with a tum-
bler, finger-bowl, or other vessel with a smooth,
even rim, to absolutely exclude the slightest in-
gress of air.
After a few hours have passed by, perhaps even
less, the spores will be seen through the glass on
the paper at the extreme edge of the mushroom,
their depth of color indicating the density of the
deposit. If we now gently lift the glass, and with
the utmost care remove the fungus, perhaps by
the aid of pins previously inserted, in a perfectly
142 EYE SPY
vertical direction, without the slightest side mo-
tion, the spore-print in all its beauty will be re-
vealed— perhaps a rich brown circular patch with
exquisite radiating white lines, marking the direc-
tion and edges of the gills, if an Agaric ; perhaps
a delicate pink, more or less clouded disk, here
and there distinctly and finely honey-combed with
white lines, indicating that our specimen is one of
the polypores, as a Boletus. Other prints will
yield rich golden disks, and there will be prints
of red, lilac, greens, oranges, salmon - pinks, and
browns and purples, variously lined in accordance
with the number and nature of the gills or pores.
Occasionally we shall look in vain for our print,
which may signify that our specimen had already
scattered its spores ere we had found it, or, what
is more likely, that the spores are invisible upon
the paper, owing to their whiteness, in which case
a piece of black paper must be substituted for the
white ground, when the response will be beauti-
fully manifest in a white tracery upon the black
background. One of these, from the Amanila
muscarius, is reproduced in our illustration. If
the specimen is left too long, the spore -deposit
is continued upward between the gills, and may
reach a quarter of an inch in height, in which
case, if extreme care in lifting the cap is used, we
observe a very realistic counterfeit of the gills of
the mushroom in high relief upon the paper. A
MUSHROOM SPORE-PRINTS 143
print of this kind is of course very fragile, and
must be handled with care. But a comparatively
slight deposit of the spores, without apparent
thickness, will give us the most perfect print, while
at the same time yielding the full color. Such a
^«>**A* **
print may also be fixed by our present method so
as to withstand considerable rough handling, all
that is required being to lay the print upon a wet
towel until the moisture has penetrated through
the paper and reached the gum. The spores are
thus set, and, upon drying the paper, are quite se-
144 EYE SPY
curely fixed. Indeed, the moisture often exuded
by the confined fungus beneath the glass proves
sufficient to dampen the mucilage and set the
spores.
A number of prints may be obtained from a
single specimen.
To those of my readers interested in the sci-
ence of this spore -shower I give sectional illus-
trations of examples of the two more common
groups of mushrooms — the Agaric, or gilled
mushroom, and the Polyporus, or tube - bearing
mushroom. The entire surface of both gills and
pores is lined with the spore-bearing membrane,
or hymenium, the spores falling directly beneath
their point of departure as indicated ; in the case
of the Agaric, in radiating lines in correspond-
ence with the spaces between the gills, and in
Polyporus in a tiny pile directly beneath the open-
ing of each pore.
HE title of this article will doubtless
recall to readers of " Harper's Young
People"* a paper upon a similar
subject which appeared in my calendar series
two years ago. With the title the resemblance
ends, for the cocoons which I am about to de-
scribe are of a sort that has never been men-
tioned in any previous article. These curious
cocoons had been familiar to me since my boy-
hood, having long excited my wonder before
finally revealing their mystery. They have re-
cently been brought freshly to my notice by a
letter that I have received, accompanied by a box
of specimens, which reads as follows :
* Now "Harper's Round Table."
146 EYE SPY
DEAR MR. GIBSON, — I have sent you to-day what 1 take to
be three cocoons. These with three others I picked up from a
gravel-walk in Po'keepsie over a year ago. They seemed con-
nected at the ends, but easily broke apart. I kept them, pur-
posing to see what would emerge, but nothing has rewarded my
watch, and they seem now to be shrivelling up. Can you give
me any information in regard to them ? If so, I shall be very
grateful to you.
I had barely read half through the brief de-
scription when I guessed the nature of the co-
coons in question, having received similar letters
before, as well as verbal queries, from others who
had been puzzled by the non - committal speci-
mens. The fact that they were found " on the
gravel-walk," and were loosely " connected at the
ends," was in itself strong evidence of their ques-
tionable nature, and I felt sure that I should rec-
ognize the cocoons as old friends. And I did.
Upon opening the box, I found three of them
packed in a mass of cotton, two of them still
loosely attached at the ends, the third one some-
what disintegrated. Each was about an inch in
length, and half an inch in thickness, somewhat
egg or cocoon shaped. Upon being separated,
one end of each was seen to be hollowed out, and
had thus previously received the pointed end of
its fellow in the " connected " condition in which
they had been found. In color they were a
mouse gray precisely, and to the careless observer
might have appeared to consist of caterpillar silk,
SOME CURIOUS COCOONS
though in reality having a substance more like
felt. Yes, they might easily be mistaken for co-
coons if we simply contented ourselves with look-
ing at them.
Who, by a mere glance, could imagine the ma-
terials that the little bird called the vireo employs
in building her peculiar nest? The reader will
remember how we pulled one of those nests apart,
and what strange materials we found woven in
its fabric.* But they were hardly more surpris-
ing than we may discover within this sly cocoon
if we dissect it. Now, to begin with, a true co-
coon is not solid to the core, as this one evi-
dently is as we press it between our fingers, nor
can you pinch off a tuft of gray hair from the sur-
* See " Sharp Eyes," page 220.
148 EYE SPY
face of an ordinary cocoon when you will. True,
there are some cocoons into whose silk meshes
the caterpillar weaves the hair of its body, but the
felt thus formed is only a shell, and is intermeshed
with silken webs, and one pinch alone will open
up the hollow interior and show us the caterpillar
or chrysalis within. Such, for instance, is the lit-
tle brown winter snuggery of the woolly -bear
caterpillar which we all know, and whose prickly
cocoons may be found beneath stones and logs in
the fields.
But what do we find in these cocoons that we
now have before us ? Not only is there no ves-
tige of silk to be seen, but there are hairs enough
in this single cocoon to have supplied a hun-
dred caterpillars, while we look in vain for any
sign of the spinner within. Indeed, there is no
within ; pinch after pinch reveals nothing but the
same gray felt. We are now a quarter of an
inch below the surface, when another pinch brings
with it a small mass of white specks like crumbs
intermingled with the hair, and in the hollow thus
deepened we observe a shiny white object like
ivory, with a minute ball at its tip. It certainly
looks like a tiny bone. We impatiently break
open the cocoon, when we see in truth a bone —
indeed, a compact mass of bones from some very
small animal, whose identity we may guess from
the mouse-color of the felt. Here is the femur of
a field-mouse — two of them — also a part of the
fibula, and a dozen or more other bones. Break-
ing asunder the mass further, we find a few tiny
teeth ; and as we continue the process in the re-
maining two specimens, we bring to light parts of
the skull, ribs, and vertebrae. A strange "co-
coon " indeed.
A further examination of the remaining speci-
mens disclosed similar ingredients, until the en-
tire mass presented a collection somewhat like
that shown in my illustration.
I well remember my first encounter with the
queer specimens, and what mysteries they were,
though the "cocoon" idea had never suggested
itself to me, the felted mass having been found in
. a disintegrated
/ 2 state.
It was on a
winter's day, in
a walk on the crusted
snow, during my early
boyhood. Returning
by the brink of a
stream, I noticed a
little gray mass
of fur on the
/$ .
snow, which on
examination
disclosed nu-
merous bones
of what I took
to be field-mice and
parts of the anatomy
of a mole intermin-
gled with the hair.
No vestige of flesh
appeared in the mass,
and I fell to wonder-
ing what manner of
disease is this with
which the mouse
world is afflicted that
should consume the
flesh and leave noth-
SOME CURIOUS COCOONS 151
ing but a disjointed skeleton and a tiny pile of
fur. Ah, had I only known then what I dis-
covered a year or two later — the secret of that
big hollow in the willow -tree above — my little
pile of fur and bones would easily have been
explained, for there summer after summer sat
the little brown screech-owl, blinking in the sun
at her doorway, peeping through the tiny cracks
of her closed eyelids at noon, and at midnight
commanding a view of the entire surrounding
sedgy swamp in her eager quest for the first un-
fortunate shrew or deer-mouse that should peep
its nose out of its nest or venture across the ice
in the field of her staring vision.
The new-fallen snow would doubtless show as
many telltales of midnight tragedies among the
little bead-eyed folk — the tiny trail terminating in
a drop of blood, and a suggestive ruffling of the
surrounding snow, with its plain witness of the
fatal swoop of " owl on muffled wing " from its
vantage-ground here in the willow-tree. To-night
our little deer -mouse ventured too far from its
nest among the tussocks. To-morrow night all
that will be left of its sprightly squeaking identity
will be a tiny pile of fur and bones disgorged in
the form of pellets from the open beak of the owl
on the willow-tree.
In regard to these specimen pellets which my
correspondent has sent to me for identification,
I am not prepared
to affirm that they
are from the di-
gestive laboratory
of the owl. Some-
thing in their size
suggests that a
hawk is equally
likely to be respon-
sible for them, all
the birds of prey hav-
ing this same singular
habit of ejecting the in-
digestible portions of
animals which they de-
vour. A pet red-tailed
hawk which I kept dur-
ing the past summer lit-
tered its pen with pellets
SOME CURIOUS COCOONS 153
of a similar size and consistency to these, varied
on one occasion with a number composed entirely
of grass, which explained a singular puzzle of the
day previous, when I descried my hawk with its
craw largely distended, and wondered what squir-
rel or chipmonk or snake had been thus caught
napping in my absence.
/•"K
'
,
ERY few of our read-
ers will need an in-
troduction to the net-
tle. It is, perhaps, the
one plant which may
claim the largest num-
ber of intimate ac-
quaintances. It was Dr. Cul-
pepper, the old-time herbal-
ist, I believe, who claimed,
moreover, that it was one
of the easiest of plants to
distinguish, in proof of which
he affirmed that " it could
be found even on the dark-
est night by simply feeling
for it." Even those most
ignorant of botany, after having once " scraped
acquaintance," as it were, with the nettle, find it
to their interest to keep its memory green.
NETTLE-LEAF TENT-BUILDERS 155
It is partly because it is so well known, and
partly because so few people use their eyes ana-
lytically, that a certain little mystery of the plant
is so well guarded. For almost any bed of nettles
may well tempt the young entomologist to tarry,
while he forgets the tingling ringers as he fills his
collecting-box with welcome specimens.
We are sure to have company if we linger long
about our nettles. There is a small brood of
butterflies which we can always count upon. Here
is one of them coming over the meadow. It has
a sharp eye for nettles, and is even now on the
lookout for them. In a moment more its beauti-
ful black, scarlet-bordered and white-spotted wings
are seen fluttering among the leaves, alighting
now here, now there, each brief visit leaving a
visible witness if we care to look for it. It has
now settled upon a leaf within easy reach. Creep-
ing along its edge, it is soon hanging beneath,
but only for a second, and is off again on the
wing. Let us pluck the leaf. Upon looking be-
neath it we may see the pretty token of the Red
Admiral, a tiny egg which we may well preserve
for our microscope.
We shall not wait long before another butterfly
visitor arrives, smaller than the last, and with its
deep orange, black- spotted wings conspicuously
jagged at the edges — one of the "angle-wings,"
which immediately announces his name as he
156 EYE SPY
alights with wings folded close above his back,
disclosing the silver " comma " in the midst of
the dull brown of the nether surface. Many are
the tiny tokens which she also leaves behind
her as she flutters away in search of a new nettle-
clump.
We have been closely observing these two but-
terflies perhaps for half an hour, and during that
time our eyes have rested a dozen times upon a
condition of things here among the leaves which
certainly should have immediately arrested our
attention. Almost within touch of our hand, upon
one stalk, are three leaves which certainly do not
hang like their fellows. One of them has been
drawn up at the edges, and fully one-half of its
lower portion is gone, while its angle of drooping
indicates more than the mere weight of the leaf.
" A spider's nest, of course," you remark. As
such it has been passed a thousand times even by
young and enthusiastic entomological students
who would have risked their lives for a "cecropia"
or a " bull's-eye " caterpillar, or stung their hands
mercilessly as they swept their butterfly net among
those very stinging leaves. It is interesting to
gather a few of these " spider's nests," and examine
the cause of their heavy droop, which proves to
be a healthy-looking gray caterpillar an inch or
more in length, covered with formidable spines,
perpetuating as it were the tendency of its foster-
"A
plant. Only yesterday
he built himself this
tent, having abandoned
the remnant tent just below, for he eats him-
self out of house and home every couple of
F' f
I $8 EYE SPY
days. About five weeks ago he began his ca-
reer, his first meal consisting, perhaps, of the
iridescent shell of a tiny egg — precisely such a
one as our first butterfly visitor has just left, for
this is the caterpillar of the Atalanta or Red
Admiral.
We may find a number of these tents if we look
sharp, and even while gathering them may over-
look a still more remarkable roof-tree of another
caterpillar, which constructs its pavilion on quite
a different plan. This, too, might even deceive a
"spider," the edges of the leaves being drawn
together beneath, and the veins partly severed near
the stem, giving it quite a steep pitch. Upon
looking beneath, we disclose another prickly ten-
ant somewhat similar to the first, only that he is
yellow and black instead of gray, while he is
clothed with the same complementary growth of
branching spines.
A single nettle -clump of any size will disclose
dozens, perhaps hundreds, of these tent-dwellers.
Though armed with formidable chevaux-de-frise,
these species are stingless, and the caterpillars
may be safely gathered. The object of my direct-
ing attention to them is not simply to disclose
them in their haunts, but to recommend their
transfer to our collecting -box, looking to the
further beautiful surprise — always a surprise —
which they have in store for us. Although they
NETTLE-LEAF TENT-BUILDERS 159
quickly desert their tents in captivity, they con-
tinue to feed on the fresh leaves provided from
day to day, and suffer little in confinement.
The full-grown caterpillars are about an inch
and a half in length, and if our specimens average
such dimensions we shall not have many days to
wait for our surprise. Perhaps to-morrow, as we
open the lid of our box, the caterpillars will be
seen to have left the leaves, and to be scattered
here and there on the lid or walls of their prison
in apparent listlessness. Let us observe this in-
dividual here beneath the box cover. Its body is
bent in a curve, and a careful inspection reveals a
carpet of glistening silk, to which it clings. Now
the insect regains confidence, and takes up the
thread which it dropped a moment ago when the
box was opened, its head moving from side to side
in a motion suggesting a figure 8, with variations.
Gradually, through the lapse of several minutes,
this sweep is concentrated to a more central point,
which is at length raised into a minute tuft of
silk ; and if we wait and watch for a few moments
longer, we shall see our spinner turn about and
clasp this tuft with its hinder pair of feet. And
this same process has been going on in different
parts of our box. Lifting the lid an hour or two
later, we find the interior full of the caterpillars
dangling by their tails, each with its body forming
a loop.
l6o EYE SPY
Twenty-four hours after this suspension a sin-
gular feat and a beautiful transformation take
place, a revelation which, as I have said, even to
those already familiar with it, is always new and
surprising. Here, indeed, may we observe " the
miraculous in the common."
It is as though our box had met with some en-
chantment beneath the wand of Midas or Iris ;
for is it not, indeed, a box of jewels that is now
disclosed, a treasury of
quaint golden ear-drops
-jM|Mf||i|^^. -v °f a fashioning unlike
any to be seen in a
^l ^r H show - case, but which
might well serve as a
rare model for the mi-
^.^ v ^IJBI^1 metic art of the jeweller?
When we consider the
length to which these
exquisite artisans will go for their natural origi-
nals— the orchids in gems, beetles in jewelled
enamel, butterflies in brilliants and emeralds and
rubies — need we wonder that this one most sig-
nificant model of nature's own jewelry, appar-
ently designed as a tempting pendant, should
have been ignored by a class of designers to
whom its claims would seem irresistible ? But
we forget. The jeweller is not necessarily an
entomologist or naturalist. The butterfly, the
i
NETTLE-LEAF TENT-BUILDERS l6l
beetle, the flower, every one sees ; how few even
dream of these glowing chrysalids (aurelias) which
hang beneath the nettle leaves or in unseen cov-
erts among the hop or thistle ?
I have looked in vain among all the designs in
the shops for any hint of the existence of such a
thing as the aurelia of Archippus, comma, semi-
colon, Red Admiral, Hunters, White J.; and, in-
deed, even if wrought to imitative perfection, how
few would recognize any resemblance to aught on
the earth or in the waters under the earth !
I will not attempt to describe this living gem
of our " comma." There are degrees in its brill-
iancy, an occasional specimen being almost a mass
of gold. Indeed, we need scarce wonder that the
aurelia should have proved so tempting a lure to
the ancient alchemists.
Almost any group of nettles will show us our
"comma" caterpillar, but one of its favorite haunts
is the wood - nettle, a large - leaved, low variety,
which is to be found in moist woods and shady
river-banks, and will be recognized by the illustra-
tion on the preceding page. I have gathered
many of these animated tented leaves in a few
moments' search among the plants.
I have said nothing of the wonderful transfor-
mation of the caterpillar to its chrysalis, and the
astonishing trick by which the latter gets out of
its skin, and again catches the silken loop with its
1 62 EYE SPY
tail. This feat is well worth a close study; the
authorities in the past have all been at sixes and
sevens as to what really takes place. Which of
our boys or girls can discover the facts as they
are, and tell us why the chrysalis does not fall out
at the last moment ?
Evening Primrose
HE summer which
is allowed to pass
without a visit to
the twilight haunt
of the evening prim-
rose, perhaps at your very
door, is an opportunity missed.
Night after night for weeks it
breathes its fragrant invitation as its
luminous blooms flash out one by one from the
clusters of buds in the gloom, as though in eager
response to the touch of some wandering sprite,
until the darkness is lit up with their luminous
galaxy — that beautiful episode of blossom- con-
sciousness and hope so picturesquely described
by Keats :
164 EYE SPY
" A tuft of evening primroses
O'er which the wind may hover till it dozes,
O'er which it well might take a pleasant sleep,
But that 'tis ever startled by the leap
Of buds into ripe flowers."
Nor is it necessary to brave the night air to
witness this sudden transformation. A cluster of
the flowers placed in a vase beneath an evening
lamp will reveal the episode, though robbed of the
poetic attribute of their natural sombre environ-
ment and the murmuring response of the twilight
moth, a companion to which its form, its color, and
its breath of perfume and impulsive greeting are
but the expression of a beautiful divine affinity.
Then there is that pretty daylight mystery of
the faded, drooping bells of last night's impulsive
blossoms, each perhaps tenanted by the tiny, faith-
ful moth which first welcomed its open twilight
chalice, and which now has crept close within its
wilted cup, the yellow tips of its protruding wings
simulating the fading petals. And again, a few
weeks later, with what surprise do we discover
that these long columns of green seed -pods are
not always what they seem, but are intermingled
with or supplanted by smooth, green caterpillars
which exactly resemble them in size and general
shape, the progeny of our tiny pink and yellow
moth now feeding on the young seed -pods!
Verily even a vireo or worm -eating warbler, who
is supposed to know a green caterpillar when he
THE EVENING PRIMROSE 165
sees one, might perch among these without a sus-
picion, except perhaps at the tickling of its feet
by the rudely touched victim.
But these are not all the interesting features of
the evening primrose. It has still another curi-
ous secret, which has doubtless puzzled many a
country stroller, and which is suggested in the
following inquiry from a rural correspondent :
" I read in ' Harper's Young People ' your piece about the
evening primrose, and found the little moth and the catterpilers,
what I never seen before ; but they is one thing what you never
tole us about yit. Why is it that the buds on so meny evening
primroses swell up so big and never open ? Some of them has
holes into them, but I never seen nothing cum out."
This same question must have been mentally
propounded by many observers who have noted
this singular peculiarity of the buds — two sorts of
buds, one of them long and slender, and with a
longer tube ; the other short and stout, with no
tube at all — both of which are shown in proper
proportion in my illustration. It is well to con-
trast their outward form, and to note wherein they
differ. In the normal or longer bud the tube is
slender, and extended to a length of an inch or
more, while in the shorter specimen this portion
is reduced to about a fifth or sixth of that length,
while the corolla enclosed within its sepals is
much shortened and swollen.
The difference in the shape and development
of these two buds is a most interesting study, as
1 66
EYE SPY
bearing upon the conscious intention of the flower
as an embodiment of a divine companion to an
insect. What is the intention involved in the
construction and habit of this flower? Why this
long tube ? Why does it
await the twilight to burst
into bloom ?
In the new botany of
Darwin flowers must be
considered as embodiments
of welcome to insects.
Long ago it was discov-
ered that the powdery pol-
len of a flower must reach
the stigma of the flower in
order to produce seed. It
was formerly supposed that
this was naturally accom-
plished by the stamens
shedding this pollen directly upon the stigma,
but this was later shown to be impossible in
most flowers, the anthers containing the pollen
being so placed that they could not thus con-
vey the pollen. This fact was first noted by
Sprengel in 1735, who was the first to discover
that the flower, with its color, perfume, and honey,
was really designed to attract insects, and that
only by their unconscious aid could the pollen be
thus carried to the stigma. But Sprengel had
ot'iiUi:-
supposed that the intention of
the blossom was the reception
of its own pollen, a fact which •;
\
:
W> ;r >&*&>./?& >
was again soon
seen to be im-
possible, as the stigmas
of many flowers are closed when
their own pollen is being shed.
It remained for Darwin seventy
years later to interpret the prob-
lem. Insects were intentionally
attracted to the flower; but the pollen
with which their bodies thus became
dusted was designed to be carried to
the stigmas of another flower, show-
ing cross -fertilization to be the in-
tention in nearly all blossoms.
168
EYE SPY
The endless shapes of flowers were shown by
Darwin to have reference to certain insects upon
whom the flower depended for the transfer of its
pollen. What are we to infer from the shape of
our evening primrose ? Its tube is long and slen-
der, and the nectar is secreted at its farthest ex-
tremity. Only a tongue an inch
or so in length could reach it.
What insects have tongues of
this length? Moths and but-
terflies. The primrose blooms
at night, when butterflies are
asleep, and is thus clearly
adapted to moths. The flower
opens; its stigma is closed; the
projecting stamens scatter the
loose pollen upon the moth as
it sips close at the blossom's
throat, and as it flies from flower
to flower it conveys it to other
blossoms whose stigmas are matured. The ex-
pression of the normal bud is thus one of affinity
and hope.
Our friend just quoted mentions having seen
" holes " on the other swollen buds, and there is
certain to be a hole in every one of them at its
maturity. But let us select one which is as yet
entire. If with a sharp knife-point we cut gently
through its walls, we disclose the curious secret
THE EVENING PRIMROSE
169
of its abnormal shape — " the worm i' the bud," as
shown in my accompanying sketch — and what
an eloquent story of blighted hopes its interior
condition reveals ! This tiny whitish caterpillar
which we disclose in the petal dungeon has been
a prisoner since its birth, during the early growth
of the bud. One by one
the stamens and also
the stigma have been
devoured for food, until
the mere vestiges of
them now remain. With
no stamens to bequeath
pollen, and no stigma to
welcome other pollen,
what need to open ?
What need to elongate
a corolla tube for the
tongue of a moth whose
visit could render no functional service ? So
thus our blighted buds refuse to open, where
blooming would be but a mockery. This tiny
caterpillar has a host of evening primrose blos-
soms laid to his door. When full grown he is
nearly a third of an inch in length, at which
time he concludes to leave his life -long abode,
which explains the " hole " through the base of
the bud. If we gather a few of these buds
and place them in a small box, we may observe
I/O EYE SPY
the remaining life history of the insect. After
creeping from its petal home it immediately spins
a delicate white silken cocoon, and within a day
or so changes to a chrysalis. At the expiration
of about a fortnight, as we open the box, we
are apt to liberate one or more tiny gray moths,
which upon examination we are bound to confess
are a poor recompense for the blossom for which
they are the substitute.
This little moth is shown very much enlarged
in the accompanying illustration. Its upper
wings are variously mottled with gray and light
brown, and thickly fringed at their tips, while the
two lower wings are like individual feathers,
fringed on both sides of a narrow central.
These and other characters ally the insect with
the great group known as the Tineidce, of which
the common clothes moth is a notorious example.
OUNG PEOPLE readers will per-
haps recall my previous reference
to the whims and preferences of
the birds in their selection of
building material. The unravel-
ling of deserted nests will often
prove an instructive as well as
humorously entertaining pastime, re-
vealing in the same fabric evidences
of great sagacity and what would ap-
pear perfectly nonsensical prejudices,
with an occasional piece of positive
frivolity. Thus we can readily see
the wisdom in the selection of these
strong strips of milkweed bark with
which this vireo's or yellow-warbler's
nest is moored to the forked branch,
or the strands of twine with which
1 72 EYE SPY
the Baltimore oriole suspends its deep swinging
hammock, as well as the plentiful meshing of
horse -hair woven through the body of the nest.
The nest of the orchard oriole is even more re-
markable as a piece of woven texture. Wilson,
the ornithologist, by careful unravelling of a grass
strand from one of these nests, found it to have
been passed through the fabric and returned
thirty-four times, the strand itself being only thir-
teen inches long, a fact which prompted an old
lady friend of his to ask " whether it would be
possible to teach the birds to darn stockings."
The horse-hair in the nest of the hang-bird gives
it a wonderful compact strength, capable of sus-
taining a hundred times the weight of the bird.
Upon unravelling one, I found it intermeshed
fourteen times in the length of ten inches, which
would probably have given a total number of forty
passes in the full length of the hair. No one
wall question the sagacity which such materials
imply; but what is to be said of a bird that se-
lects caterpillar-skins as a conspicuous adornment
for her domicile ? And here is a vireo's nest
with a part of a toad-skin prominently displayed
on its exterior, or perhaps a specimen such as I
have previously described abundantly covered
with snake -skins. These, of course, are whims
pure and simple.
In the linings of many nests we find an equal
THE DANDELION BURGLAR 173
variety, but the materials are selected with a defi-
nite purpose, a soft, warm bed for the young fledg-
lings being the object sought by the parent birds.
To this end we find many nests lined with what
the ornithologists call " soft downy substances."
Examination with a magnifying glass will some-
times show us precisely the nature of this down;
whether it consists of wool from a sheep or hair
from the deer, 'coon, goat, or horse ; whether it is
composed of fuzz from downy leaves or spider-
webs, caterpillar hairs, or cottony seeds of plants.
These last form a favorite nest lining with a num-
ber of birds.
I remember once finding a beautiful nest of a
warbler whose outer wall was strongly woven with
strands of milk-weed bark, but the whole interior
filled with a felt composed of dandelion seeds, and
barely anything else. The nest was old and
weather-beaten, and the mass had been reduced
to a consistency resembling thick brown paper,
with an occasional seed protruding. Originally
this soft mass must have been at least a quarter
of an inch in thickness. The dandelion seed is
an occasional ingredient in many nests. We can
readily understand how a bird with an eye to a
downy snuggery for her young might be tempted
to gather an occasional seed, but it takes a host of
dandelion seeds to make a thick cushion such as
this which I have mentioned, and we might well
174 EYE SPY
wonder at the labor involved in the accumulation
of such a mass. A cloudy dandelion ball in the
grass doubtless looks inviting to the nest-builder,
but how much of this tuft would the bird be able
to secure in her bill when a mere touch or breath
perhaps is sufficient to scatter the ball to the
breeze ? No ; I cannot believe my bird of the
dandelion nest wasted her energies in picking up
a single seed here and there from a dandelion
ball, or perhaps on the wing. A discovery of a
few years ago has shown me how dandelion
seeds may be cleverly gathered by a shrewd nest-
builder, and how a whole nest may be feathered
with them without much labor.
For some years I was puzzled to account for a
peculiar mutilation which I often observed on the
dandelion. It was always at the same place — the
calyx of the blossom — the green portion which
incloses the bud, and, after blooming, closes again
about the withered flower, and so remains while
the seeds are growing. Most of my readers
have seen dandelion flowers in all their stages of
growth. The flower usually blooms for three
mornings. By this time all the tiny yellow flow-
erets which make up the yellow cushion have
bloomed. The green calyx now closes, to remain
closed, for a week, while the stem generally bends
outward, and thus draws the withered flower tow-
ards the ground, often hiding it beneath the leaves.
^ ,>»:'•
During this week
of retirement the
stem continues to
wither sideways,
and the flower is
busy ripening its seeds, each
yellow floweret having a seed
of its own, from which there
grows a slender hair-like stalk
with a tiny feathered parachute
at its top. Gradually these lit-
tle feathery ends push upward
inside the calyx, and on the
seventh day, lo ! the withered
dandelion has appeared again
at the top of the grass. It now has a tiny brown
cap at its top, or perhaps has just lost it, and gives
us a glimpse of a white feathery tuft peeping
from its top. This little brown withered cap is
all that is left of the original golden blossom of
two weeks before, now a shrivelled mass, which
176 EYE SPY
has gradually been pushed upward and out by the
growing seed-tuft. In another hour, perhaps, the
calyx will again open, and bend down against the
stem, while the bed at the bottom to which the
seeds are attached will round upward through the
feathers outward in the form of a ball. This
rounded seed-bed, or receptacle, as it is called in
our botany, shortly withers, and the winged para-
chutes take flight at the slightest zephyr, whereas
at first a smart breeze would have been required.
Now all this is by -the -way, for not every one
understands how the dandelion ball is made. I
know a little bird, however, who has found it out
to her advantage. I have just alluded to a cer-
tain mutilation of this calyx which puzzled me. I
have shown one of these calyxes in my title pict-
ure, at the right, one - half of it being torn off,
and disclosing a cavity. Where are the seeds ?
" Ah ! some rare caterpillar has done this !" I ex-
claimed, when I first observed the burglary. In
vain I hunted among the leaves to find him.
Again and again I found my rifled dandelion, but
never a sign of the burglar. But one day I sur-
prised him at his work. It was no caterpillar,
but a tiny, black bird with a beautiful rosy band
in his tail, and which proved to be that butterfly
among the birds, the redstart. I hardly knew
what he was doing out there among the dande-
lions, and presumed he was after my mysterious
THE DANDELION BURGLAR 177
caterpillar, until I chanced to see him alight near
by with a white tuft in his bill. Yes, a tuft with
feathery parachutes in a bunch on one side of his
bill, and a compact cluster of seeds on the other.
In a moment I was among the dandelions from
which he had flown, and soon found my empty
calyx, from which an entire dandelion ball had
been taken at one pinch. I lost no time in trac-
ing out the nest in the foot of an apple-tree close
by. A dainty fabric it was, exquisitely adorned
with gray lichens and skeletonized leaves, its inte-
rior very plentifully lined with the seeds of the
dandelion, more so than is usual with the nests of
this bird. On two occasions since I have seen
other small birds of the warbler kind suspicious-
ly rummaging among the dandelions, and have
afterwards discovered the empty calyx. There is
probably more than one dandelion burglar.
UITE contrary to my original inten-
tion, my specimen of Musca domestica,
which I had captured at random to
serve as my model in the present chap-
ter, has suggested that I begin with a
Q, and after some expressive criticism
on the matter I have at last consented
to humor him, especially as he proved
otherwise a most unique and accom-
modating individual. Being in need
of a good, healthy, toe-twisting, neck-twirling spec-
imen to sit for his portrait in an illustration for a
forthcoming article on the paper wasp, I cast my
eye about my easel. There, right at my elbow,
still plying his never-ending toilet, I beheld him—
strange coincidence, was it not ? A sweep of my
hand, and I have him! And in a moment more,
THE TROUBLES OF THE HOUSE-FLY 1/9
with the tips of his toes besmeared with glue, he
is a secure prisoner on the white paper before me.
The victim having served his purpose, I was
preparing to drench him with a few drops of
water to dissolve his bonds and set him free,
when I happened to observe a feature which
had before escaped my notice. The glue had
chanced to secure one of its feet well beneath its
body, and now that it was released I discovered
that I had made considerably more of a catch
with that sweep of my hand
than I had imagined. Attached
to one of the terminal joints of
the front leg there appeared a
tiny red object, which I in-
stantly recognized
as a curious tag
which I had seen
before, and which
forms an occasion-
al lively episode in the life not only of house-flies
but other flies as well. And what a queer-shaped
tag it is, to be sure ! It is not easy to describe
its dimensions on account of its changeable pro-
portions— now spreading out its two long appen-
dages, now contracting into an oblong or rounded
outline, or sprawled out in the shape of a curious
letter T, and now thrown about in such a helter-
skelter fashion by the antics of the fly that noth-
180 EYE SPY
ing but the fact of its red color is discernible.
But when we bring our magnifying-glass to bear
upon it, its diminutive size is forgotten, while its
shape is now perfectly familiar to us ail — a lob-
ster! a veritable live young lobster, and what is
even more strange, a live boiled lobster at that !
No, it must be a crab lobster, for was ever the
liveliest lobster in its greenest stages half so spry
as this warlike midge, whose free, upraised, open
claws threaten to nip our fingers off as we hold
the lens above him. But nag and prod him as
we will, no provocation will induce him to loosen
his grip on his means of transport.
For how many days, I wonder, has he been on
this particular flying trip ? How many miles has
he travelled, and what varied experiences has he
survived ! How many are the lumps of sugar, the
drops of molasses, the slices of bread, and pats of
butter over which he has been trailed, to say
nothing of puddles of fresh ink ! And then
think of the many hours in which, from his pres-
ent position, he must have conspicuously figured
at that toe - twisting toilet of his host ! Fancy
brushing your coat and combing your hair with a
live boiled lobster !
But pollen grains are not pumpkins and foot-
balls and tea-boxes, as the microscope would have
us believe ; nor does the drop of water contain
a herd of strange elephants. Can it be possible
THE TROUBLES OF THE HOUSE-FLY l8l
that this lobster is, after all, only about an eighth
of an inch long, with its claws spreading barely
three - sixteenths of an inch ? Yes, true ; but we
must remember that the fly is only about one-
third of an inch long, and we can imagine how
proportionately formidable the little beast must
appear as a lurking foe and a handicap to the fly
fraternity. I have therefore pictured this little
episode of fly-time somewhat from the aspect of
the fly. This was one of the " troubles " which I
had in mind as I prepared the initial design with
its letter O. I had counted on using an old
specimen of the lobster which I had safely stowed
away in a pill - box somewhere, until my hap-
hazard fly victim supplied me with a fresh speci-
men, and subsequently helped me out in the com-
pletion and modification of my initial.
A correct idea of the anatomy of the little crab
may be obtained from my illustration. But what
is it all about, this funny ride on a fly's hind-leg?
Excepting as an inconvenience and encumbrance
it is doubtful whether the fly is much the worse for
his close attachment, and while this mimic crab or
lobster cannot be called a frequent passenger, a
careful scrutiny of any considerable assemblage of
flies on white paper or window-pane will occasion-
ally show us the animated and persistent red tag.
But let us call him a lobster no more, rather
one of the " False Scorpions," one of the group
known as Pedipalpi, in the books : queer little
creatures that live in dusty nooks, among old
books and papers, and feed on tiny mites and
other minute life which harbor them, but born
rovers withal, with a singular fancy for fly - toes
and free rides.
But the false scorpion may be considered rather
as a bother than a serious trouble to the fly. His
real troubles are too numerous to mention. His
life, as most of my readers will be glad to learn,
is not a bed of roses, as is commonly supposed.
Just think for a moment what a fly's existence
must be. With the deadly fly-paper on the one
hand, the continual danger of being cemented
into a pellet of pulp in the maw of a hornet, or
impaled on the beak of his murderous relative
the " Laphria - fly," or snapped up by birds, toads,
snakes, he certainly has abundant use for that
head full of eyes of his. All summer long he
THE TROUBLES OF THE HOUSE-FLY 183
runs the gantlet of risks like these, but in Sep-
tember and October a new and terrible danger
awaits him, and fortunate is he if he escapes in
these advanced days of scientific discovery, when
so many of our mortal ills are shown to be de-
pendent upon the malignity of hovering germs, of
microbes, bacteria, and bacilli.
Let us be thankful we have at least escaped the
notice of one of this insidious throng, and are
spared the grotesque horror of such a fate as the
germ-scourge of flydom. How swift and terrible
is its course ! To-day a pert and gladsome inno-
cent, sipping on the rim of our dinner-plate ; to-
morrow a pale, dry relic of his former self, hanging
from the window-pane by its tongue, and enveloped
in a white shroud of mould, the victim of a germ
or spore. Look where we will upon the window
on those September and October days and we see
the little smoky cloud with the dangling fly in
its midst, and many an apparently modest and
considerate fly upon the wall will be found simi-
larly fixed to the surface, and surrounded with the
white nimbus.
But the real mischief was done perhaps early in
the evening, after our fly had retired for the night.
He presumably experienced the first attack of
acute dyspepsia he had ever known. In his pro-
miscuous feeding he had chanced to imbibe a
spore, which once within his vitals began its mur-
1 84
EYE SPY
derous work, growing so fast as to completely fill
his swelling body by morning, when, having com-
pleted its growth and penetrated through the in-
sect's skin, it spread its own spores, to be wafted
hither and yon to the peril of next year's flies, and
the consequent delight of the tidy house-keeper.
Such is the work of the world - renowned fly-
fungus, of which a writer says : " It silences more
house-flies than all the brushes, traps, poisons,
whacks, and swearing devoted to the extermina-
tion of the insect."
A RE LESS observation of
Nature is responsible for
some curious misrepresen-
tations of her most simple
facts. Even those of us
who stand somewhat in the
relation of nature teach-
ers — namely, artists, both
<y draughtsmen and painters, and from whom
we have a right to expect absolute fidelity —
are not free from our shortcomings as truth-
ful chroniclers. Thus how often we see otherwise
beautiful landscapes marred by features which
rebel against all laws of natural philosophy — of
a storm sky above a sunlit scene, for instance,
spanned by the arc of the rainbow, and with all
the shadows of trees and other objects thrown
1 86
EYE SPY
sidewise ! Then there is that inverted or very
"dry" crescent moon in western twilight skies;
and how seldom do we see the beautiful law of
the twining tendril appreciated in the most care-
ful design of the botanical draughtsman !
For years the tendril was to me the conven-
tional spiral, twisting like a continuous curl or
spring from the
parent branch to
the suPP°rt
within its
R>
clasp ; and it is safe
to assert that not
one in — well, a good
many of us, who should have
gone out to our grape-vine
or passion -vine or melon -
patch, without a previous forewarning, would have
been able to tell correctly the pretty little story
of its tendril methods, or have even noted the
curious little kink which is the infallible peculiar-
ity of the climbing tendril.
What is a tendril — botanically speaking ? That
depends. It is one thing in this plant, quite an-
TENDRILS IS/
other in that, so students of vegetable anatomy
or morphology soon discover.
It is soon perfectly plain that the stem is a
modified root. For instance, plants have been
taken up from the sod and replaced in the ground
upsidedown, the roots subsequently becoming
stems, and bearing leaves, and the buried leafy
stems assuming the functions of roots. Leaves
are mere modified branches, and the flowers modi-
fied leaves. Pistils and stamens in flowers are
modified petals, or rather petals are modified sta-
mens, the " doubling " of flowers representing the
being thus accomplished, while the petals again
are mere changed leaves. A neighbor of mine
has a bush bearing green roses — all leaves. In
the wrater-lily you will find it difficult to determine
just where the stamen ends and the petals begin,
so gradual is the blending. In the peony the
same is true, and carried still further in the merg-
ing of petals and calyx into the approximate
leaves.
And so it is with tendrils. In certain plants
the point of the leaf, through ages of " natural
selection," has gradually been prolonged into a
slender arm, which clasps the branches of trees,
and enables the plant thus endowed to climb
higher to sun and sky, and thus to thrive more
vigorously than its less fortunate brothers. The
plant so advantageously equipped transmits its
188
EYE SPY
tendency to its offspring, and has therefore sur-
vived in place of its ancient fellows, and is the
type perpetuated or " selected " by nature. Such
a tendril, then, is a modified leaf. How is it in
the pea ? Here we find four leaflets in two oppo-
site pairs, but no odd leaflet at the end of the main
stalk, such as we see in almost all other plants of
its family. But in place of
} this leaflet we find a branch-
^
If
ing tendril reach-
ing out on all sides for
conquest. How quietly
by the aid of these eager
arms the sweet-pea climbs to the top of its brush !
In the common catbrier or smilax we see two
slender thread-like tendrils growing from the base
of each leaf. Here we have another modification,
a development of the "stipule," that tiny pointed
growth common to many leaves, and particularly
notable at the base of a rose leaf. Still another
plan has been evolved in the grape-vine. If we
TENDRILS 189
examine our grape arbor in June we find a num-
ber of drooping, swaying branches. The leaves
are scattered singly at intervals of a few inches
along the branch, each of the upper ones being
attended on its opposite side by a drooping clus-
ter of mignonette -scented blossoms. Thus they
follow down towards the tip of the branch, where
the clusters suddenly cease, and are replaced by
long, slender, curving and branched tendrils, some-
times ten inches long. We might thus reasona-
bly assume the tendril in this case to be a modi-
fied blossom cluster, but there is no need for us
ever to assume such a thing. If we will only
search with sufficient care we shall at last dis-
cover the absolute proof of the fact in a tendril
which is partly in blossom, the nearest leaf-joint
above it having a full cluster of blossoms, and the
tendril below it, nearer the tip, not a few scattered
flower-buds at its tips. This grape-vine instance
may be taken as a demonstration that in no case
is the tendril a special or primal organ, but mere-
ly an old one adapted to a new purpose. In one
instance from a leaf, in another from a flower-
stalk, just which can generally be determined by a
sufficient search for the telltale intermediate form
somewhere to be found on the plant.
Among the most beautiful of all tendrils are
those of the passion-flower and plants of the
melon family, notably the wild star - cucumber,
whose portrait is
here presented. It
is a more or less
common weed, to be
found about gar-
dens and barn-yards,
where it covers the
fences with its pro-
fuse, clambering
growth, its stalks
everywhere entan-
gled or drawn close
to support by their
TENDRILS
long, green, spiral springs, and its free, branching,
young tendril tips reaching out in all directions
for fresh foothold, and in its absence content at
length with a friendly intertwining among them-
selves, and a consequent tangle of green convolu-
tions. It is hard to believe that these long, out-
reaching arms at the summit of this vine are
identical with the closely twisted spirals below,
but such is the case ; let any one of them once
feel the contact of even the frailest support of
twig or stalk, and it is soon close in the embrace
of its eager tip, and the contraction of the spring
commences, but the method of this contraction is
worth our study.
In order for this tendril to coil it must twist,
and it is perfectly plain on general principles that
with both ends held fast twisting is impossible.
But this little paradox is evidently dismissed by
the tendril. If we tie a short string between two
given points, and attempt to twist it with our fin-
ger and thumb, we succeed in turning the string,
'tis true, but the twist on the right side neutral-
izes that on the left, being in the opposite direc-
tion. In this way only can the cord be twisted.
If we twist with sufficient patience we may imi-
tate the coil of the tendril, which is performed pre-
cisely in this way. Herein lies the secret of that
little loop or kink in the centre of all tendrils —
a given point, which cannot be determined on the
192 EYE SPY
extended tendril, but whose mission is to reverse
the twist in opposite directions as soon as the tip
has secured its contact, and thus permit the coil-
ing process to proceed. In tendrils of exceeding
length several of these reverse loops may be
found at regular intervals, sometimes as many as
six in a single tendril, but the coiling process usu-
ally awaits this contact. Unsatisfied tendrils of
the grape, for instance, will remain unchanged
through the entire season, or until their sensitive
touch has been lost. Others, like those of the
passion -flower, will occasionally become discour-
aged and curl up all by themselves, in which case,
the other tip being free, the curl is perfect and
continuous and without the reverse loop, which is
now unnecessary. But the function of the tendril
is to clasp and hold. Its growth is not complete
until thus quickened by the new responsibility.
Tendrils on duty become tough and sinewy in
comparison to their idling neighbors. How firm
and rigid are these swollen coils upon the grape-
vine !
We do not gather "figs from thistles," but some
equally incongruous botanical associates are some-
times brought about through the insinuating and
clambering methods of the tendril. Have we not
all seen apple-trees bearing pumpkins or squashes
or gourds, all originally carried thither in the form
of great yellow blossoms or tender shoots ! The
grape - vine occasion-
ally plays a singular
botanical prank in the
orchard. Here is a
drooping tendril which
has been swinging
about for weeks from
its vine canopy on the
old apple-tree. It had
become almost dis-
couraged, when a
chance-favoring breeze
wafted its tip in con-
tact with an apple
close by. It was its
last chance ; with its
hooked extremity it clasped
the stem of the fruit, and soon
made itself fast with three or
four firm coils. Doubtless the
little reversing loop some-
where along the tendril was
also awakened from its chronic
lethargy, and did its best to
13
IQ4 EYE SPY
start the coil. Presumably it succeeded, for the
pull was sufficient to dislodge the apple, which,
falling to the entire length of the tendril, was still
held fast in the grip, whose new responsibility had
given it new strength.
And there our apple hung for weeks, swinging
like a pendulum from the slender grape-vine, the
coils on duty still keeping their firm grip on the
stem, even though all above were straightened by
the weight of the burden.
» trance Starv ^Graj^Kepper
c_^ <*-/
.
:
A FEW days ago, while return-
ing from a walk, I chanced
to observe a dead grass-
:s hopper upon the dirt at
the side of the road. Now
this incident would not have
been of special importance
had I not discovered, upon
careful post-mortem exami-
nation, the very remarkable
manner of the insect's death,
which recalled a similar surprising episode of
several years ago which I had almost forgotten.
Upon referring to my note -book of that period,
however, I found considerable space devoted to
the incident, which greatly astonished me at the
time. Inasmuch as it presents in a startling
light the wonderful and strange resources by
which nature holds in check the too rapid in-
crease of species and maintains the great law
of equilibrium among the insect forces, it is well
196 EYE SPY
worth recalling in these pages, in the firm belief
that my young entomological readers will hence-
forth look more compassionately and tenderly
upon the poor " high -elbowed grig" who is the
unfortunate hero of my story. He is familiar to
us all, that hovering u rattler " above the hot, dusty
road of August, flying up from nowhere beneath
our feet in the path, fluttering like a yellow moth,
and always disappearing before our eyes when he
alights. He is also known as the " Quaker," from
his drab suit and bonnet, and his generosity with
his " molasses " is proverbial from the days of
the Pilgrim settlers. Who would have believed
that such a fate as the following lay in store for
him.
In previous papers I have indicated some of
the remarkable pranks which the various ich-
neumon-flies play with unsuspecting caterpillars.
The polyphemus, for instance, whose cocoon, filled
with hopes of a beautiful butterfly existence, yields
only a swarm of wasps. The caterpillars are help-
less, and would seem an easy prey to the wily
fly who lays her eggs upon them ; but even the
agile -winged " Quaker," and doubtless many of
his kind — yes, and still more agile insects — are
not quick enough to escape a like fate.
At the time of my discovery I had in prepara-
tion an article for " Harper's Magazine " entitled
" Among Our Footprints." I wished to describe
A STRANGE STORY OF A GRASSHOPPER
I97
and illustrate a singular battle which I had short-
ly before observed between a large red mutilla
ant and a "Quaker." The mutilla I had captured
at the time, and had preserved as a specimen. I
needed only the grasshopper to complete my
drawing. Directly in front of my city house a
number of vacant grassy lots offered a favorite
haunt for the insects — I used to call it the
Quaker camp-meeting ground — and I started out
to procure one. Having no net, I was soon con-
vinced that I was greatly at a disadvantage. The
thermometer was about 90°, and, of course, the
" Quakers," being in their element, had much the
best, not to say the easiest, time of it. I at length
gave up the chase, and was about leaving the
field, when fortune favored me by the discovery of
a clumsy specimen, which seemed unable to fly
198 EYE SPY
for any great length, and he was soon captured.
Upon examination his wings seemed partially
paralyzed, but otherwise he appeared to be in
good health and spirits, his hind legs being espe-
cially lively and snappy. I immediately took the
insect to my studio, and pinned him through the
thorax. He was strong enough to pull out the
pin from the board and jump around the room
with it in my temporary absence.
I lost no time in taking his portrait, which
figured in the illustration to the article on " Foot-
prints " as " the ungainly victim," I little dream-
ing when I gave him such a title what a re-
markable sort of victim he even then was. The
drawing took me about ten minutes. I then
left the studio, and was absent precisely fifteen
minutes. Upon returning I found the grass-
hopper dead.
My curiosity was aroused, not only by such a
rapid demise (for the impaling through the thorax
is not usually an immediately fatal injury to an
insect), but especially by some very strange and
unnatural automatic movements- of the victim —
head protruding and turning from side to side;
queer expansion of body, as though breathing;
unusual lifting and other motions of legs, particu-
larly of hind legs ; the whole demonstration a
mockery on life. The grasshopper was pinned to
my drawing-board, and against a piece of news-
A STRANGE STORY OF A GRASSHOPPER 199
paper. As I watched his strange antics, I sud-
denly discovered that he had become a veritable
phantom of his former self; that I could actually
read the newspaper text through his body. Exam-
ination now revealed the mystery. I could easily
see every nook and cranny of the grasshopper's
interior, so glassy were the walls of the body, and
I could now count about a dozen small, white
larvae, which were now full grown, and were crawl-
ing about within through head, thorax, body, and
hind legs, cleaning its walls of every particle of
remaining tissue, and causing the singular mo-
tions described. Such a strange house -cleaning
I never saw before.
When the "Quaker" locust was captured it
showed not the slightest sign of any such goings-
on within its being. The final voracity of the
larvae was swift and terrible. And what an as-
tonishing instinct is that which should teach
these parasites to avoid the vitals of their insect
host until the last moments of their own final,
complete growth ! The entire space of time from
the activity of the grasshopper to the empty,
transparent phantom was less than thirty minutes.
I placed the unfortunate victim in a small, close
box. Next morning he presented nothing but a
clean, glassy shell, now more glassy than before,
empty of every vestige of organic matter, while
scattered about on the bottom of the box lay fif-
2OO
EYE SPY
teen dark red, egg - shaped chrysalides of the es-
caped larvae. Two weeks later, upon opening the
box, a swarm of flies flew out. I was enabled to
keep two of them. They were almost exactly
like the common house-fly to the ordinary ob-
server, but belonged to a distinct genus. At this
writing, in the absence of my specimen, I cannot
give the name by which they are known in learned
circles, but I think I am safe in saying that they
probably belong to the group called Tachina, a
family of parasitic flies which spend their early
lives in a similar questionable manner, to the
probable discomfort of potato - bugs, caterpillars,
and other accommodating insect hosts.
A STRANGE STORY OF A GRASSHOPPER 2OI
I had seen similar flies emerging from my
caterpillar boxes in my early entomological days
without suspecting their significance, and any
large collection of caterpillars in confinement is
likely to include a victim.
Riddles in Flowers
INDEED, are they not all rid-
1 dies? Where is the flower which
even to the most devoted of us has
yet confided all its mysteries ?
In comparison with the insight
of the earlier botanists, we have
surely come much closer to the
flowers, and they have im-
parted many of their se-
crets to us. Through the inspired
vision of Sprengel, Darwin, and
their followers we have learned
something of their meaning, in
addition to the knowledge of their
structure, which comprised the end
and aim of the study of those early
scholars, Linnaeus, Lindley, Jussieu, and De Can-
dolle. To these and other eminent worthies
in botany we owe much of our knowledge of
how the flowers are made, and of the classifi-
cation based upon this structure, but if these
RIDDLES IN FLOWERS
203
great savants had been asked, " You have shown
us that it is so, but why is it thus ?" they could
only have replied, " We know not ; we only know
that an all-wise Providence has so ordained and
created it."
Take this little collection, which I have here
presented, of stamens and petals selected at ran-
dom from common blossoms. What inexplicable
riddles to the botanist of a hundred years ago,
even of sixty years ago ! For not until that time
2O4 EYE SPY
was their significance fully understood ; and yet
each of these presents but one of several equally
puzzling features in the same flowers from which
they were taken.
In that first anther, for example, why those
pores at the tip of the cells, instead of the usual
slits at the sides, and why that pair of horns at
the back ? And the next one, with longer tubes,
and the same two horns besides! Then there is
that queer specimen with flapping ears — one of
six from the barberry blossom ; and the pointed,
arrow-headed individual with a long plume from
its apex; and the curved C- shaped specimen —
one of a pair of twins which hide beneath the
hood of the sage blossom. The lily anther, which
comes last, is poised in the centre. Why? What
puzzles to the mere botanist ! for it is because
these eminent scholars were mere botanists — stu-
dents and chroniclers of the structural facts of
flowers — that this revelation of the truth about
these blossom features was withheld from them.
It was not until they had become philosophers
and true seers, not until they sought the divine
significance, the reason, which lay behind or be-
neath these facts, that the flowers disclosed their
mysteries to them.
Look at that random row of petals, too ! — one
with a peacock's eye, two others with dark spots,
and next the queer-fingered petal of the migno-
RIDDLES IN FLOWERS 2O5
nette, followed by one of that queer couple of the
monk's -hood blossom which no one ever sees
unless he tears the flower hood to pieces. We all
know the nasturtium, but have we thought to ask
it why these petals have such a deep crimson or
orange colored spot, and why each one is so beau-
tifully fringed at the edge of its stalk ?
These are but a dozen of the millions of sim-
ilar challenges, riddles, puzzles, which the com-
monest flowers of field and garden present to
us ; and yet we claim to " know " our nasturtium,
our pink, our monk's -hood larkspur, our daisy,
and violet !
No ; we must be more than " botanists " before
we can hope to understand the flowers, with their
endless, infinite variety of form, color, and fra-
grance.
It was not until the flowers were studied in
connection with the insects which visit them that
the true secret of these puzzling features became
suspected.
We all know, or should know, that the anther
in flowers secretes and releases the pollen. For
years even the utility of this pollen was a mystery.
Not until the year 1682 was its purpose guessed,
when Nehemias Grew, an English botanist, dis-
covered that unless its grains reached the stigma
in the flower no seed would be produced (Dia-
gram A). But the people refused to believe
206
EYE SPY
this, and it was not until fifty years later that
Grew's statement was fully accepted, and then
only because the great Linnaeus assured the
world that it was true. But about fifty years
later another botanist in Germany, Sprengel,
made the discovery that the flower could not
be fertilized as these botanists had claimed, that
jxllen
in many blossoms the pollen could not fall on
the stigma.
Sprengel knew that this pollen must reach the
stigma, but showed that in most flowers it could
not do so by itself. He saw that insects were
always working in the flowers, and that their
hairy bodies were generally covered with pol-
len, and in this way pollen grains were contin-
ually carried to* the stigma, as they could easily
be in these two blossoms shown at Diagram B.
Sprengel then announced to the world his the-
ory — the dawn of discovery, the beginning of
RIDDLES IN FLOWERS
207
the solution of all these floral riddles. The insect
explained it all. The bright colors and fra-
grance were intended to attract him, and the
nectar to reward him, and while thus sipping he
conveyed the pollen to the stigma and fertilized
the flower.
But now Sprengel himself was met with most
discouraging opposition to his theory, showing
that he had guessed but half the secret after all.
Flowers by the hundreds were brought to his
notice, like that shown in Diagram C, in which
the insect could not transfer the pollen from
anther to stigma, as the stigma is closed when
the pollen is ripe, and like that in Diagram D,
which does not open until the pollen is shed.
For seventy years this astonishing fact puzzled
the world, and was at last solved by the great
Darwin, who showed that nearly all flowers shun
their own pollen, and are so constructed, by thou-
208 EYE SPY
sands of singular devices, that the insect shall
bring to each the pollen of another flower of the
same species, and thus effect what is known as
cross-fertilization.
We must then look at all flowers as expres-
sions of welcome to some insect — day-flowering
blossoms mostly to bees and butterflies, and night-
bloomers to moths. And not only expressions of
welcome, but each with some perfect little plan of
its own to make this insect guest the bearer of its
pollen to the stigma of another flower of the
same species. And how endless are the plans
and devices to insure this beautiful scheme!
Some flowers make it certain by keeping the stig-
ma closed tight until all its pollen is shed ; others
place the anther so far away from the stigma as
to make pollen contact impossible; others actu-
ally imprison these pollen -bringing insects until
they can send them away with fresh pollen all
over their bodies.
Take almost any flower we chance to meet, and
it will show us a mystery of form which the insect
alone can explain.
Here is one, growing just outside my door — a
blossom " known " even to every child, and cer-
tainly to every reader of the " Round Table " —
the pretty bluets, or Houstonia, whose galaxy of
white or blue stars tints whole spring meadows
like a light snowfall. We have " known " it all
RIDDLES IN FLOWERS 2OQ
our lives. Perhaps we may have chanced to ob-
serve that the flowers are not all constructed
alike, but the chances are that we have seen them
all our lives without discovering this fact. If we
pluck a few from this dense cluster beside the
path, we observe that the throat of each is swollen
larger than the tube beneath, and is almost closed
by four tiny yellow anthers (Fig. i). The next
and the next clump may show us similar flow-
ers ; but after a little search we are sure of find-
ing a cluster in which a new form appears, as
shown in Fig. 2, in which the anthers at the open-
ing are missing, and their place supplied with a
little forked stigma! The tube below is larger
than the first flower for about two -thirds its
length, when it suddenly contracts, and if we cut
it open we find the four anthers secreted near the
wide base of the tube. What does it mean, this
riddle of the bluets ? For hundreds of years it
puzzled the early botanists, only finally to be
solved by Darwin. This is simply the little plan
which the Houstonia has perfected to insure its
cross -fertilization by an insect, to compel an in-
sect to carry its pollen from one flower and de-
posit it upon the stigma of another. Once realiz-
ing this as the secret, we can readily see how per-
fectly the intention is fulfilled.
In order to make it clear I have drawn a pro-
gressive series of pictures which hardly require
RIDDLES IN FLOWERS 211
description. The flowers are visited by small
bees, butterflies, and other insects. At the left is
an insect just alighting on a clump of the blos-
soms of the high-anther form indicated below it.
The black probe represents the insect's tongue,
which, as it seeks the nectar at the bottom of the
tube, gets dusted at its thickened top with the
pollen from the anthers. We next see the insect
flying away, the probe beneath indicating the con-
dition of its tongue. It next alights on clump
No. 2, in which the flowers happen to be of the
high-stigma form, as shown below. The tongue
now being inserted, brings the pollen against the
high stigma, and fertilizes the flower, while at the
same time its tip comes in contact with the low
anthers, and gets pollen from them. We next see
the insect flying to clump No. 3, the condition of
its tongue being shown below. Clump No. 3 hap-
pens to be of the first low-stigma form of flowers,
and as the tongue is inserted the pollen at its tip
is carried directly to the low stigma, and this flow-
er is fertilized from the pollen from the anthers
on the same level in the previous flower. And
thus the riddle is solved by the insect. From
clump to clump he flies, and through his help
each one of the pale blue blooms is sure to get its
food, each flower fertilized by the pollen of an-
other.
Another beautiful provision is seen in the dif-
212 EYE SPY
ference in size of the pollen-grain of the two flow-
ers, those of the high anthers being much larger
than those from the lower anthers. These larger
grains are intended for the high stigma, which
they are sure of reaching, while those of smaller
size, on the top of the tongue, which should hap-
pen to be wiped off on the high stigma, are too
small to be effective for fertilization.
NDER one guise or another
the fickle goddess Fortuna would
seem to have established her in-
fallible interpreters or mediators.
The lovelorn maiden with the
daisy, its petals falling beneath
her questioning finger -tips to
the alternate refrain, " He loves
me. He loves me not," is a sac-
rificial episode in the life of the
daisy wherever it grows.
The still younger maiden with
her dandelion ball, whose feath-
ered parachutes must be dislodged upon the breeze
with three puffs from her little puckered mouth,
with all sorts of fate depending upon the odd
or even number of the remnant seeds, is as uni-
versal as the dandelion itself, while the more
homely symbols of wish-bone, horseshoe, or horse-
214 EYE SPY
chestnut, as we all know, are proverbially potent
as personal or household charms against ill luck.
I once knew a shrewd countryman who gave all
the credit of his success in " tradin' ' to the
" hoss-chestnut " which he carried in his pocket,
and would as soon think of throwing his money
away as to " drive a trade " without it. More
than one old " down - East " dame " sets gre't
store " by the horseshoe hung above her door-
way, always secured ends up, " so's the luck can't
run out." Then there was old Aunt Huldy, who,
while she claimed to locate springs and wells
the country round by her witch-hazel divining-
rod, never ventured upon these expeditions with-
out the concealed necklace of dried star puff-balls
hung about her neck.
But perhaps the most universal of all these nat-
ural symbols of good-fortune is to be found in the
four-leaved clover, almost a world -wide supersti-
tion, and traced back to the ancient astrologers.
" If a man, walking the fields," writes one of them,
" finds any four-leaved grasse, he shall in a short
while after finde some good thing."
The clover was considered as being especially
"noisome to witches," and the "holy trefoil charm"
was a powerful spell against their harm ; the " tre-
foil" being the most widely used title of the clover
— Trifolium, as it is in the botany — three leaved.
And such it should be, to be true to its christen-
LUCK IN CLOVERS 215
ing. But it frequently takes exception to the
botany and gives us an extra leaf, and thus we
have our "four -leaved clover," a rarity which
many of us, seek as we will, have never yet been
able to discover in its native haunt, even though a
whole handful of them are plucked here and there
before our eyes by our more favored companions.
Indeed, there are some lucky folk who seem liter-
ally to stumble upon "four -leaved grasse " wher-
ever they go — who, having found one leaf, will sit
down quietly in the grass and ere long accumu-
late a bouquet.
Yes, here's the secret: It is not your eager
gadding quest that gets your four-leaved clover.
Nor is it all a matter of "sharp eyes." There is
a "knack" about finding four- leaved clover, and
this very knack of the so-called " lucky ones," im-
plying as it does the operation of quest, observa-
tion, and common - sense, would logically argue a
corresponding fulfilment of success in the affairs
of daily life. For the observant clover-hunter, if
his mind and eye work together, soon learns that
the " four-leaved " variety is fond of company, and
that the whim of the plant which thus produces
one such leaf is very apt to be humored in several
others. Thus, having discerned one four- leaved
clover, we assume a tendency in the parent plant,
which further search often discloses, sometimes to
our great surprise, and, if we are as superstitious
2l6 EYE SPY
as our antique philosopher above quoted, to our
unbounded satisfaction. If, for instance, this one
extra leaflet brings such assurance of " good
things " to come, what shall be said of a leaf with
five or six leaflets — yes, seven, or perhaps eight —
I might even add nine — a veritable little green
rose of clover leaves, all on one stem, a stem
which is sometimes plainly composite, of two or
three adherent stems ? All of these exuberant
forms are to be found with diligent search, and
often in the same close vicinity. Nor are these
all the varied freaks which the plant will disclose
for the seeking. Perhaps you may chance upon
that four-leaved variety in which the extra leaflet
stands upright in the midst of the three, and is
transformed into a tapering cup. These elfin
goblets are not exceedingly rare. Occasionally
we may chance to find two of these supported by
one or two perfect leaflets at the base. Or, if we
are especially fortunate, our " good health " may
be offered in three of the tiny beakers, not mere
apparent cups, but with the edges of the goblets
completely united, and which might be filled to
the brim with dew.
A collection of the natural whims of the clover,
both red and white, would make an interesting
leaflet in our herbarium. In the hands of the
floriculturist who should cultivate these eccen-
tricities most remarkable varieties of clover might
ensue. Fancy a clover plant
with every leaf a cluster of tiny
cups, or of leaves so doubled
as to appear like green roses !
Here is a chance for our boys
and girls to experiment, and
^ without much real la-
bor, too. Both the red
and white clovers are perennial
— that is, they come up year
after year from the same root.
A plant which this year favors
the " four -leaf " will doubtless
follow the same example next
year, and the seed from its
flowers might also inherit and
transmit the same peculiarity,
218 EYE SPY
possibly in an exaggerated degree ; and care-
ful selection from year to year, keeping the
plants in a corner by themselves, might lead
to some interesting results, especially if the
tendency were further stimulated by enrichment
of soil, to which the clover responds vigor-
ously.
My experience with " clover luck " has been
considerable. I believe I have found almost
every possible eccentric combination of which the
plant is naturally capable, a few of which I have
here pictured.
My best success has been met in the " rowen "
fields, or the growth after mowing, the energy of
the plant, thus pruned as it were in its prime,
finding immediate expression in an exuberance
of luxuriant foliage, which, I think, inclines to
a multiplication of leaves. I once sat down
beside such a clump upon which I had discov-
ered a single "four-leaf," and by dint of pluck-
ing and examining every leaf in the cluster,
succeeded in obtaining thirty - nine specimens.
" Why not make it forty while you are about
it?" a friend of mine recently remarked, with
evident incredulity. Well, I tried to, but after
grubbing up the last embryo leaf at the ground,
thirty -nine was my limit — all from one plant.
The collection might be subdivided as follows :
Four leaves, 22; five leaves, 7; six leaves, 3;
LUCK IN CLOVERS 2 19
seven leaves, i ; nine leaves, i ; cups and leaves,
various, 5.
At another time I spied a single five-leaved in
a dense bed of rowen clover at the road-side, and
seating myself close beside it, calculating on this
habit of the plant, I
vowed I would not get
up until I had collected
forty multiple leaves. I
soon obtained more than
this number.
The clover -leaf quest
is a good eye - sharpen-
er. Which of our boys
can show us the best
record ?
I wonder if any of
my young readers have
ever seen how the clover says its
prayers and goes to sleep, with its
two side leaflets folded together
like reverent palms, and the ter-
minal leaflet bowed above them ?
So the normal leaf spends the night in the dews.
I often wonder what arrangement of adjustment
is arrived at when so many leaflets conspire to
confuse.
My clover-hunting has been confined to the red
and white clovers, both species having common
220
EYE SPY
tendencies. In the red, the leaves being larger,
the freaks are more conspicuous, but the cup
forms seem more commonly identified with the
white clover.
* $ Barberry Banners
,3T
NE who is unfamiliar with the
remarkable doings of blossoms
in association with their insect
honey -sippers might consider it
somewhat surprising to attribute
" manners " to a flower. But who
that has seen the sage-blossom clap its bee vis-
itor on the back as she ushers him in at the
threshold of her purple door, marking him for
her own with her dab of yellow pollen as she al-
most pushes him into the nectar feast within ;
who that has witnessed the almost roguish dem-
onstration which the tiny andromeda-bell extends
to the sipping bee at its doorway — who that has
seen these can any longer doubt that blossoms
have " manners " as well as we bigger, more con-
222 EYE SPY
scious beings ? Yes, manners, unquestionably —
" bad manners," it would almost seem, in some in-
stances, as, for example, in this andromeda blos-
som-bell, which, in its perfume and its nectar, de-
liberately invites the tiny Andrena bee, only to
deluge its little, black, hairy face with a smother-
ing shower of dusty pollen. A remarkable style
of etiquette, surely, that is, from our human stand-
point. But in the realm of Flora the standards
of decorum, so far as greeting is concerned, are
not governed by artificial whim. There is no
" smart set " to dictate and set the fashion for oth-
ers less smart to follow. Each individual flower
is a law unto itself as to the method of its greet-
ing to its especial insect friend. The blossom eti-
quette of welcome is literally as " old as the hills,"
and has come down with little change from an
ancestry which dates back perhaps to a period
when there were no human " ancestors " on the
globe. So these " manners " are natural and orig-
inal, to say the least, even if they are so queer
sometimes. What would you think of a friend
whose hospitable smile and welcome at his door-
way should invite you thither only that your foot
might touch a trigger and let fall the floor be-
neath you, while at the same time you are half
suffocated with an explosion of a bushel of yellow
corn meal ? Yet such is something like the spec-
tacular reception which the lotus clover, the des-
BARBERRY MANNERS 223
medium, and the genista flowers consider the
most expressive form of welcome. But the little
bees seem to enjoy it, and go again and again to
each successive flower, well knowing what the re-
sult will be, and apparently " touching off the
trigger " without a tremor, or even holding their
breath. But they and their foreparents for thou-
sands of years have got accustomed to it, and I
half imagine that the baby bee, even in his first
visit to one of these blossoms, knows precisely
what will happen. Pop ! pop ! go the explod-
ing flowers, one after the other, at each touch of
the bee, throwing up a cloud of yellow pollen
which covers the bodies of the insects until they
are as dusty as little millers.
There is an endless variety in these various
welcomes among the flowers, and our barberry
has one of the queerest of them all. Poets of all
ages have loved to dwell upon the flowers — their
" swete smels," exquisite forms, fragrance, and
colors. The droning bees in an environment of
fragrant bloom have moved many a poetic pen to
inspiration. But it is not often that the bards
have seen deep enough into the floral mysteries
to immortalize the doings of the blossoms.
I recall one such allusion, however, with ref-
erence to this mischievous blossom of the bar-
berry. How well old Hosea Biglow knew its
pranks !
224 EYE SPY
" All down the loose-walled lanes in archin' bowers
The barb'ry droops its strings o' golden flowers,
Whose shrinkin' hearts the school-gals love to try
With pins. They'll worry yourn so, boys, bime-by."
Those " shrinkin' hearts " of the barberry blos-
som, so long the wonder and amusement of chil-
dren, including many children of adult growth,
have, so far as I know, herein found their first and
only historian — historian, but not interpreter. For
Hosea Biglow, nor his literary parent, James Rus-
sell Lowell, never dreamed of the significance of
this strange spectacle in the shrinkin' hearts of
the barberry bloom when surprised with the point
of a pin.
But the bee can tell us all about it. He has
known this singular trick in the barberry for
ages, and kept the secret all to himself. Only
comparatively recently (1859 or thereabouts) did
the secret leak out, when Darwin, by the previous
hints of several other philosophers, discovered the
key which unlocked the mystery of this as well
as thousands of other similar riddles among the
flowers.
These strange " manners " of the blossoms had
then a deep vital principle at their base. They
had not always been thus, but had gradually,
through long ages of time, changed and modi-
fied their shapes, colors, odors, nectar, and their
manners for one purpose — to insure their pollen
226
EYE SPY
being conveyed away upon the bodies of insects
and carried to a second flower, and there placed
upon the stigma to insure fertilization and devel-
opment of the seed.
The plans, devices, tricks, and pranks by which
flowers accomplish this result are past belief. I
have indicated only a few by way of a hint, and in
previous papers on the bluebottle and figwort
have described others, but none quite similar to
the barberry.
We all know the barberry, the prickly, thorny
BARBERRY MANNERS 22/
barberry, whether with its " strings o' golden flow-
ers " or its drooping clusters of brilliant scarlet
acid berries. But each one of those berries is but
a token of a bee's visit, as we shall presently see.
At Fig. i I have shown a plan of the barberry
blossom seen from below, its yellow sepals and
petals open, and opposite each of the inner set,
and pressed against it, a stamen. This stamen
is shown below in three stages — closed, part-
ly open, and fully open — the queer little ear-
shaped lids finally drawn up, showing the pollen-
pockets, and also withdrawing a portion of the
pollen from the cavity. At the centre is seen
the circular tip of the ovary which finally becomes
the berry — that is, when the little scheme here
planned has been fulfilled. This circular form
represents the tip of the ovary, and the little
toothed rim the stigma. Now what is the inten-
tion here expressed? This construction repre-
sents a plan, first, to invite a bee— this is done by
its color, its fragrance, and its nectar, which is se-
creted in a gland at the base of each petal, near
the centre of the flower; secondly, to make that
bee bear away the pollen ; thirdly, to cause that
same bee to place this pollen on the stigma rim of
the next flower he visits. In Fig. 2 we see how
beautifully this plan is carried out by the insect,
without his suspecting how perfectly he has been
utilized. At A we see the same flower cut open
228
EYE SPY
sideways, the waiting, expectant stamens tucked
away at the sides, leaving a free opening to the
base of the flower. Now comes our bee. He
must needs hang back downward to sip at the
drooping flower. As his tongue enters, and final-
ly touches the base of these stamens, clap ! they
come one after another against his tongue and
face, and there deposit their load of pollen (B).
The bee, who has doubtless got over his surprise
at this demonstration — if, indeed, he ever had
any — now flies to another blossom, perhaps on
BARBERRY MANNERS 22Q
the same cluster (C). Entering it as before, the
notched edge of the stigmatic rim comes in con-
tact with the pollen on his tongue and face, and
the flower is thus fertilized by pollen from an-
other barberry blossom, the intention of the flow-
er now perfectly realized in m?^-fertilization.
The seeds from cross- fertilized flowers are al-
most invariably more vigorous, and thus yield
more vigorous plants, than those of flowers fertil-
ized with their own pollen, and this is why most
flowers have necessarily developed some means
by which cross-fertilization can be secured. And
this has been done through evolution working on
the lines of natural selection, those seedlings
which had originally happened, by a variation in
the flower, to be thus favored by some chance
peculiarity which insured cross -fertilization, win-
ning in the struggle with the previous weaker in-
dividuals, and finally supplanting them altogether.
ARDLY a season passes with-
out my being in receipt of one
or more inquiries, personal or
by letter, concerning this snowy brood which
haunts the alders in the swamp or along the
road-side, and which envelops the smaller branches
in its dense, feathery fringe. It is often one of
the most frequent and conspicuous incidents in
a country walk during its season, and its season
ranges from its height in early summer until the
frost. And yet how few there are, even of. those,
perhaps, who pass it every day, who have any defi-
nite idea of its character !
I know one rustic who claimed that it was
" dry-rot," or a " speeshy of mould "; but the wool-
ly phenomenon is commonly dismissed by the
rural mind with the observation that it is " bugs
A WOOLLY FLOCK 231
of some sort." In this case the haphazard ver-
dict happens to be the literal truth, though the
speaker little suspects how closely he has discrim-
inated. But his present skill is easily accounted
for when we remember that only yesterday he
had a great deal to say about "June-bugs" and
"lightning-bugs." He will tell you all about
" lady - bugs," too, and "rose -bugs," and "horn-
bugs," and "pinch-bugs" — and has he not often
given his strong opinion on "potato-bugs"? — not
one of which insects is in the least entitled to
the name of " bug." Only this very morning he
asked me if I was " as fond of goin' buggin' as I
used to be." But to the granger laity the ento-
mologist is always a "bug- hunter," even though
no single species of a bug is to be found in his
entire insect cabinet.
What, then, is a bug, and why is the discrimina-
tion of " bugs of some sort " so truly applicable to
this brood with the snowy wool which grows
upon the alder twigs ?
The term "bug" has almost become a popular
synonym for " insect." All bugs are insects, 'tis
true, but it by no means follows that all insects
are bugs. The " squash-bug " is almost the only
insect that is known by its true title in the popu-
lar vocabulary, for this disgusting insect is in
truth a typical bug.
But who would ever think of calling the whiz-
232 EYE SPY
zing harvest-fly a " bug ?" Rather will they per-
sist that he is a " locust," which he is not. He
should be called the cicada. The " grasshopper "
of the fields is the true locust, whose swarms of
certain species in the Orient have so often shut
out the sun, and whose voracious feeding has laid
waste whole square miles of vegetation in a single
night.
But such a swarm of locusts as we read of in
Scripture, and frequently in the history of mod-
ern times and in our own country, would be com-
paratively tame and merely amusing affairs were
they composed of our so-called "locust" — he of
the whizzing timbrel in the sultry August noon.
For this insect has no teeth, and could not bite a
blade of grass if it wanted to. And herein we
see one of the peculiarities which constitute him
a " bug," and which also includes in the same
company our woolly swarm upon the alder twigs.
In place of teeth these insects are supplied with
a beak for sucking the juices of plants. If we
carefully examine the dense snowy mass we find
it composed of small tufts closely crowded to-
gether, each tuft being borne upon the plump
body of a small insect whose beak is deeply sunk
into the tender bark.
I have separated one of the little creatures, and
furnished his portrait as he appears when viewed
through a magnifying-glass, only the lower por-
A WOOLLY FLOCK
233
tion of his body being covered with the wool, his
head and legs being usually concealed beneath
the pluming growth of his neighbors. This feath-
ery growth seems of the most del-
icate consistency — in truth, more
suggestive of white " mould "
than any other natural
substance, and seems to
proceed from pores
in the plump body
beneath it. The
slightest breath
wafts the cob-
webby tips of
the fringe, and
the least rude
touch easily
dislodges it,
exposing the
round, naked
body of what is
now clearly seen to be
an aphis, or plant-louse,
which nature, for some
reason, has seen fit to
clothe with swan's-down.
In early June the white down first appears on
the alders in tiny patches here and there. This
gradually extends down the stem, at length, per-
234 EYE SPY
haps, completely encircling it, and thus remaining
for weeks, the full-grown aphis at last attaining a
length of about three-sixteenths of an inch.
A similar brood is sometimes seen in profusion
on beech-trees and also on the apple-tree. But if
we imagine that because these insects are with-
out teeth they are therefore harmless, we are
greatly mistaken. What they lack in individual
effect they fully compensate for in numbers, and
the combined attack of a girdle of thousands of
these sucking beaks, for weeks absorbing the sap,
may often result in the death of the branch be-
yond them.
Dr. Harris, in his admirable work on " Insects
Injurious to Vegetation," tells us that " in Glou-
cestershire, England, so many apple-trees were de-
stroyed by these lice in the year 1810 that the
making of cider had to be abandoned. So in-
fested were many of the trees that they seemed,
at a short distance, as if they had been white-
washed."
Other insects, such as the flea and the mos-
quito, are also possessed of similar " beaks for
sucking," but neither of these examples is a bug,
both being flies — the flea merely a wingless fly
with wonderfully developed legs. Our entomolo-
gy tells us that a bug is a member of the Hemip-
tera, meaning "half-winged;" the wings of the
typical bug, like the squash-bug, being transparent
J-
I
**
1
for only about half their length.
But as in the flea among flies,
here we find myriads of true bugs
without a vestige of wings, and
others, like the cicada, with ample
wings as clear and
free from opacity as
those of a fly. It
would take more
space than I have
at disposal to tell
precisely what
a bug really
is entomologi-
cally, such a
diversity of
forms is
presented
in the fam-
ily. But the suck-
ing beak, and the
fact that the average bug
is born a bug from the
egg, instead of going through the'
usual transformation of larva, chry-
salis, and imago, will have to suffice us
236 EYE SPY
for the present. Here, for instance, is the great
sub-tribe of the aphis, to which our woolly spec-
imen belongs. What is their life history ? The
eggs of the mother aphis are laid in the autumn,
giving birth to the baby swarm in the following
spring. In an almost incredible time they have
multiplied to such an extent that the twigs of our
roses and many other plants are lost to view in
the encircling swarm. The secret of this won-
derful arithmetical progression may be seen in
the following quotation, which applies to aphides
in general :
"The plant-louse of the apple-tree produces
one hundred young ones in a single generation,
these being born alive, and each of these brings
forth others in equal number, until, at the end of
the tenth generation, which is reached before the
coming of frost, the original aphis has become the
mother of one quintillion of her species."
But up to this time nearly all the aphides have
been females ; in the last generation the winged
males appear, and are seen assembled among the
swarm — the last mother brood laying the eggs
which are to start anew the cycle of life the fol-
lowing season.
So far as I have observed, however, the woolly
species of aphis never acquires wings, nature hav-
ing in a measure compensated for their absence
in the growth of plumy down, which, according to
A WOOLLY FLOCK 237
Harris, is so buoyant as to enable the insect to be
borne upon the breeze from tree to tree. To
this resource he attributes the spread of the wing-
less apple-lice species. But it would take a stiff
breeze thus to waft the body of our plump dweller
on the alder, unless, indeed, in his younger days.
What Oik
N a certain afternoon
last August, having just
completed a particu-
larly laborious work
upon which I had
long been engaged,
and with my mind
naturally inclined
towards relaxation
in my plans for the
morrow's labors, my
eye instinctively
sought a certain note-book
upon my table. It was a
note-book containing memoranda on a wide va-
riety of Nature topics, but presented in a partic-
ular place a choice, selected list of topics under
the title of " Young People." A large number
of these memoranda were crossed off with a
pencil line, which told me that these particular
topics had already served their purpose, were
"WHAT AILS HIM?" 239
sufficiently elaborated in the columns of the
" Young People," and were now safely preserved
between the covers of my book " Sharp Eyes."
But what an array of items were still left from
the winnowing, which had after all culled only a
few of the best ! Indeed, it was hard to decide
which should be selected as the subject for the
morrow. Let's see; shall it be those travelling
underground buds of the Clintoma, with all their
leaves and flowers ready for next spring? No, I
must wait a little for these a month later and
they will be more mature, and I must make my
drawing from nature. Then there is that queer
blue oil beetle, with his queerer history; that
slender- waisted wasp that digs its deep hole in
the dirt, and those round holes in the path, with
their mysterious hocus-pocus.
Yes, it shall be these, the magic holes that dis-
appear as you cautiously look at them, or sudden-
ly start into view as you approach — deep holes,
the diameter of a slate - pencil, with apparently
nothing in them, but which in reality have a good
deal of mischief at the bottom of them or at the
top of them, as it happens. " Ant holes," most
people call them. Many an ant, doubtless, goes
into them, but not because he wants to. " Yes,"
I thought, " my next chapter shall be devoted to
these queer holes and their shy tenants, which so
few people ever see or even dream of."
240 EYE SPY
Having thus decided, I closed my note -book,
but the experience of the next few minutes quite
reversed my plans, and led to the completion of
an entirely different article, or the pictures for it
at least, on the same afternoon, without awaiting
the morrow.
I had barely closed the note-book when, chanc-
ing to glance out of my studio window, I observed
a well-known neighbor, a thrifty, retired granger
and carpenter, approaching across lots. His
house stood out against the sky at the crest of
the slope, about a furlong distant, above my
studio, and he had perhaps reached half-way to
my window before I had observed him. Some-
thing in his walk, his somewhat accelerated pace
and evident preoccupied mood, as well as a pecul-
iar position of his extended right hand, foretold
that some unusual errand had turned his steps
hitherward. With considerable curiosity I en-
deavored to detect at a distance the specimen
which he was bringing, well knowing from expe-
rience that I should soon recognize an old friend,
which for sixty years had somehow managed to
escape the notice of its new discoverer.
Half across the meadow I now observed that he
held a leaf in his outstretched hand, and now I
clearly noted that it was a compound leaf, and in
another second I knew it all. For was it not a
leaf of the Virginia -creeper or woodbine? and
"WHAT AILS HIM?" 241
how many before him have marvelled at that
strange exhibition among the woodbine leaves
which had now probably met his eyes for the first
time ? In another moment he was at the piazza
stoop, and now he appears at the studio door.
Eager anticipation and shortness of breath were
equally manifest as he approached my easel and,
with his right hand still out-
stretched towards me, ^
exclaimed, "Well, * ^ *
what ails him?" +£? *&
rT
at the same
time laying down
before me the mys-
terious specimen. It
was a leaf of the woodbine,,
bearing along its stem a cylindrical mass of what
appeared to be tiny, oblong, white eggs, all set on
end, and so densely packed that but for the head
and tail of the shrunken, green caterpillar which
appeared at the two extremities of the mass no
one would have guessed their origin. " What
ails him ?"
" I was sitting on my porch," continued my puz-
242 EYE SPY
zled visitor, "and saw the white thing among the
leaves, and took a closer look at it, and found it
was this. I never saw anything like it before, and
I thought perhaps you hadn't either, or, at least,
that if you had you could tell me something
about it. What ails him, anyhow ?"
The story was simply told, and my readers
who have followed my articles already know
what the story is. We remember the strange
history of those little, puzzling cocoon clusters
on a grass stem, those " bewitched cocoons " which
gave birth to swarms of tiny wasps instead of
moths, and we realize that here is more of the
same sort of mischief, all of which I explained
to my good neighbor, to his astonishment. How
a few weeks since, when our caterpillar was much
smaller than now, a tiny, black midget hovered
about him, and, in spite of all his wriggling and
squirming, stung him again and again, each time
inserting within his body its tiny eggs. Perhaps,
and probably in this case, from the number of the
white tokens, more than one of the flies took a
turn at the unlucky victim, for he certainly seems
to have got more than his share.
" These eggs thus inserted beneath the skin of
the caterpillar," I explained, " soon hatched into
minute white grubs, which immediately fastened
themselves upon the tissues within the caterpil-
lar's body, and he is now obliged to eat for the
"WHAT AILS HIM? 243
whole family, which he continues to do without
any outward signs of inconvenience or protest,
which, of course, would be useless. I fancy he
must have frequent attacks of that ' all - gone '
feeling that we hear so much about in dyspeptic
people, but if he does he gives no hint of it by
his looks, as he devours one leaf after another
along the stem, and displays his plump propor-
tions with evident pride — like the whole tribe of
horny-tailed ' sphinx ' caterpillars to which he be-
longs.
" But a few days ago he had a sudden and ter-
rible experience. He had begun to think of re-
tiring down among the dried leaves on the ground
and spinning a cocoon, and there were bright vis-
ions of a future life filling his little green head —
visions of a life on wings, as quick as thought, in
an atmosphere of twilight and fragrance, and all
manner of sweet indulgences. But his beautiful
dream was interrupted, and probably will remain
only as a dream. At one moment we see him in
his prime, a perfect specimen for the ' bug-hunter '
who is after the larva of Ckcerocampa pampina-
trix. In ten minutes we look at him again: wre
find his body shrunken and covered with minute
white grubs, all standing on their tails, which
are still imbedded in his body ; here one bare-
ly emerged ; here another half enshrouded in
a gauzy cocoon ; others with their bodies bent
244
EYE SPY
into loops weaving the webby gauze about them,
while a few hours hence all are concealed, as
we see them now, in the completed long, oval,
white cocoons
which still re-
main attached f^jj^ r
to his body."
"Well," re-
marked my listener,
" I guess he feels
pretty sick; if he don't,
I vow I feel sick for
him. I knew something
awful ailed him, but didn't know
what. I thought the things were
eggs. What's the good of it all,
anyhow ? What do the cocoons turn into ?"
I have wished more than once that my friend
could have been in my studio the day following
his visit, in order to have witnessed the ocular
answer to his last question. It was evident that
his caterpillar specimen might have been discov-
WHAT AILS HIM?"
245
ered with its load of cocoons a fortnight ago, for
in the morning, upon opening the box in which I
had placed him, a number of tiny black flies flew
out, and several of the white cocoons were open
at the end, their dainty hinged lids thrown back.
Here is one with its black midge just creeping
out ; others with the tiny imp
peeping through the fine crev-
ice ; others with the lid still
tightly closed, but with its junc-
ture disclosing more distinctly
every moment the knavery of
the busy teeth within. One by one
the silken lids popped up, and out
flew the mischievous jack-in-the-box until
within the space of a few hours every
cocoon was empty. So this is " what
ailed him." He has been the victim
of the parasitic fly known as microgaster.
But even now that his mortal enemies have
left him, I fancy he is past encouragement or
salvation. What will become of him? In his
particular case he continued to dwindle and soon
died, though in other instances I have known him
to recover and reach the chrysalis stage, to com-
plete his transformation into a beautiful olive and
red sphinx-moth.
NDER the popular name of "locust," our
cicada, or harvest-fly, has long enjoyed the
reputation as our chief insect musician,
vying with the katydid in the volume of its
song. We all know its long, whizzing crescendo
in the sultry summer days. But let us call things
by their right names. This buzzing musician is
not a locust ; it is a cicada. The true locust is
what we ordinarily call a grasshopper, that " high-
elbowed grig" of the meadows, so generous with
his " molasses," and with such a vigorous kick.
He, too, is a musician in a modest way — a fiddler,
THE CICADA'S LAST SONG 247
carrying his " fiddle " on the edge of his folded
wing covers, against which he gently grinds out
faint, squeaky music, using his thigh -joint as a
fiddle-bow. His single efforts are barely audible,
but multiplied ten-thousandfold in his great field
orchestra, becomes a murmur which may be dis-
tinctly heard, and which no doubt all of us have
heard without a suspicion as to its source. It
is a part of the great musical symphony of the
harvest-fields, a roundel sustained and prolonged
by the hum of bees and the buzzing of innu-
merable flies, and the sprightly notes of crick-
ets, attuned to the soft murmur of breeze-blown
grass. This meadow music is perceptible to any
one who cares to listen for it, but it is rarely
noticed. What we call the " quiet " country life,
or " the quiet summer noon " of the poet, is a
misnomer.
The contrast, to the observant ear, between the
meadow in a hot July noon and the same meadow
on a following cool and overcast day would be re-
markable could we but compare the two condi-
tions during the same moment of time. Even a
cloud shadow passing over a " quiet " meadow will
often suddenly reveal to us how noisy it really was
but a moment before. But the harsh timbrel of
the cicada is not a part of this " quiet " music.
He is no retiring fiddler hiding somewhere among
the grass-blades. His note rings out high above
248 EYE SPY
the meadow chorus, and he always gets the credit
as the chief soloist, and we say, "Hark! there's a
* locust,' " when we ought to know better. Let us
try and straighten out this confusion of terms, and
let the younger generation at least begin the re-
form that shall eventually set matters right and
correct this wide-spread popular error.
Our cicada belongs to quite another family of
insects. Instead of jaws for biting, as our riddling
" grasshopper," the cicada has only a long " beak
for sucking," and this feature alone connects him
with the tribe of " bugs." Moreover, his methods
of music-making are very different from those of
the " grasshopper " tribe. It is the male only that
makes the music, and his instrument is a drum.
He carries two of these inclosed within his body,
the opening of each being covered beneath by a
broad plate, which is easily seen on the under sur-
face of the body. Deep within lies the " drum,"
and the hard and hollow body of the insect acts
as a resonator or sounding-board. This drummer
does not use his legs as drum-sticks, as might be
supposed, his drum being vibrated by twitching
muscles and cords.
The method by which the sound is produced
may be illustrated by a simple experiment. Take
a small piece of stiff, sized writing-paper or smooth
Manilla paper, and by pressure with some round-
ed blunt instrument produce a slight hollow or
THE CICADA'S LAST SONG 249
blister upon its surface. Upon pressure from ei-
ther side this blister will be found to " snap," and
could we but repeat the operation with great ra-
pidity, a continuous sound would result. The toy
called the "telegraph ticker" is made on this prin-
ciple, the blister being made on a strip of steel,
and the click produced by pressure upon its top,
the elasticity of the metal bringing it back to its
original position of rest, and each motion accom-
panied by a snap as the blister changes sides. In-
deed, we need look no further than the bottom of
almost any well-ordered tin pan for a complete
illustration of this principle. So our cicada is a
drummer, and his favorite tune is a " roll-call," the
beats following each other with such rapidity as
to form a tone. All through the summer we
hear his strain. Even at this moment, as I write,
a very long-winded specimen is tuning up in the
tree just outside my studio window, and I am
almost moved to give him some good advice.
Have a care, my noisy minstrel. If it were I
alone who were within ear-shot of your noise all
might be well with you, but there are others near
by to whom your music hath charms. Have a
care! Only a moment ago I heard an ominous
hum on my piazza, and upon investigation discov-
ered a huge sand-hornet prying about the prem-
ises. He knows what he is looking for, and so
ought you, if your parents have done their duty
250 EYE SPY
I
by you. Hereditary instinct at least ought to
teach you that your drum should play second fid-
dle to that hornet's humming music. I remem-
ber once being the witness of the sad fate of an
ancestor of yours who drummed not wisely but
too well. He was monopolizing the neighbor-
hood, just as you are doing now, when I noticed
his principal effort was suddenly cut short in the
middle in a most unusual manner. If he had
been a singer I would have supposed some rival
had clapped a hand over his mouth, so suddenly
was the song abbreviated. In another moment
there was a rustling among the leaves, as some-
thing fell from the tree in his immediate neigh-
borhood. Down, down it dropped, its passage to
the ground accompanied by one or two short,
sharp, spasmodic tattoos on that same noisy drum.
The object fell among some rocks, but before I
could reach the spot the humming sound of a
sand -hornet greeted my ears, and in a moment
more the insect took flight directly across my
path, and, what was more, he was not alone.
Would you know who accompanied him ? Look
then on the picture on page 252, and have a care,
my noisy friend, for the lineal descendant of that
sand -hornet now hovers outside my doorway.
He has a grudge against your tribe, and he is
even now on your scent. Perhaps you may be
interested to know what the hornet did with that
THE CICADA'S LAST SONG 251
rash ancestor of yours. Well, I will tell you, for
your own good. Guided by his noisy demonstra-
tion, the hornet spied him on his twig, and in a
second had pounced upon him and, like a high-
wayman, stabbed him to the heart with a poisoned
javelin. This cut short his song, as you may well
suppose, and he fell in the grasp of his assailant.
In another moment the hornet got a fresh hold
upon him, and though your ancestor, like yourself,
was much bigger than the hornet, those powerful,
buzzing wings made an easy burden of him for
quite a distance across the meadow. Here our
captor took a rest, and after tugging that helpless
cicada some distance up a high fence-rail, started
off on another flight, which was brought to an
end in the grass at the foot of a tree. In a mo-
ment more the hornet was seen tugging its huge
load up the trunk. When some ten feet in height
a third flight was made, this time gradually set-
tling down on the roof of a shed down-hill. Tug-
ging his game to the edge of the shed roof, a
fourth trip was made, and this landed the two in
the neighborhood of a sand bank at the roadside
in the valley below.
A sand bank of some sort is usually the termi-
nus of this strange ride of the cicada. Thus far
many curious observers have followed the two,
and wondered what it was all about. If they had
cared to follow the matter to the end, they would
,
.
'
doubtless have wondered still
more at the strange fate which
awaited the unlucky harvest-
fly, whose last song had been
his own requiem. The sand-hornet is also known
as the " digger - wasp," the largest of its kind,
the most formidable of all our hornets, and car-
rying within its black, yellow -spotted body a
most searching and terrible poisoned sting. It
was a common belief in ancient times that " sev-
enteen pricks of a hornet " would " kill a
man," to quote from Pliny; and there are many
THE CICADA'S LAST SONG 253
country people to-day who would as quickly at-
tack a rattlesnake as this big sand -hornet, and
who " absolutely know " of men who have been
" knocked down " and even " killed " by one stab
of its sting. However this may be, it is well to
keep at a respectful distance. When we know
what the little yellow-jacket can do with its tiny
dagger, and then reflect that this sand - hornet's
javelin is about a third of an inch long, we can
draw our own conclusions, and will readily under-
stand why it was that our cicada's song was cut
short. " But why didn't the hornet eat him on
the spot? Why should it fly away with him and
yank him about so unmercifully?" This is a
common question with those who have observed
the episode above described. A visit to the sand
bank would have explained the object of it all.
The exposed surface is seen to be perforated here
and there with holes as large as one's little finger,
while from one of them an occasional tiny stream
of sand pours out, and we catch a glimpse of the
horny, spiked legs of the digger-wasp within.
Even as we observe him closely a loud hum is
heard, and a filmy, buzzing object falls precipitate-
ly upon the bank, and in the jumble of wings and
black bodies we now distinguish our hornet and
cicada, which only a moment before had started
from the edge of the shed roof above. The cicada
is apparently dead, and is now an easy prey as the
254 EYE SPY
wasp lugs him to the mouth of one of the bur-
rows, and soon disappears in its depths.
Further than this few have followed the couple.
But Professor C. V. Riley, our government ento-
mologist, has unearthed the entire mystery, and
eye - witnessed the fate of our cicada, and I am
thus enabled to picture the rest of the tragedy.
What now follows is very similar to what I de-
scribed in a previous paper concerning the mud-
wasp nest packed with its dead spiders. Our ci-
cada is not dead — more's the pity. The thrust of
the sting has only paralyzed the insect, in order
that the young 'of the hornet may be provided with
living food. From the opening of the tunnel in
the sand our harvest -fly was lugged a distance
of about six inches, when the tunnel branched
in various directions. Down a branch for about
eight inches more, and his journey terminated in
a dungeon, where his career was doomed to end.
Doubtless each of the other branches held one or
two similar prisoners, for the cicada is the favorite
prey of this particular wasp. Once arrived at the
dungeon, the hornet deposits an egg upon its vic-
tim, and leaves him in its charge. In a few days
it hatches into a larva with such a voracious ap-
petite that within a week it has devoured the con-
tents of the cicada's shell and reached its full
growth. It now incloses itself within a silky co-
coon, and after abiding the winter emerges at the
THE CICADA'S LAST SONG
255
brim in the spring a full-fledged hornet, with its
mouth watering at the thought of cicadas.
What a strange wonder-working medicine is
this which the hornet carries in its laboratory !
In the guise of death it yet prolongs life indefi-
nitely. The ordinary existence of the cicada, for
instance, is but a few weeks at most, and yet it is
claimed by Mr. Riley that if for any reason the
egg of the wasp should fail to hatch, the paralyzed
cicada will remain in its condition of suspended
animation for a year, and presumably longer.
Here is a suggestion for the materia medica
256 EYE SPY
which may open up immortal fame to the chemist
of the future. What is this mysterious essence
which the wasp carries in its poniard ? As Pro-
fessor Riley suggestively remarks, " If man could
do what these wasps have done from time im-
memorial, viz., preserve for an indefinite period
the animals they feed on by the simple insertion
of some toxic fluid in the tissues, he would be
able to revolutionize the present methods of ship-
ping cattle and sheep, and obviate much of the
cruelty which now attends the transportation of
live-stock and much of the expense involved in
cold storage."
ACRID buttercup reaves, 10.
Agaric, 142, 144.
Alders, leaf-rolling beetles of, 233.
Amanita muscarius, 142 ; print
from, 143.
American velvet plant, 25.
Andrena bee, 222.
Andromeda-bell, its welcome to the
bee, 221, 222.
Aniline bath, 47.
Aphides, 125, 126 ; pest of the rose-
garden; plants and trees, 1 26; suck-
ing the sap, 127 ; disappearance of
a swarm, 128 ; all females; end of
season males appear ; wonderful
multiplication of, 233, 236.
Aphis lion (Hemorobida), 128, 129.
Aphrophora, " spume-bearer,** 89.
Apple-trees bearing pumpkins and
squashes, 192.
Aquilegia canadensis, columbine,
46.
Arachne, 106.
Archippus. See Butterflies.
Argiope riparia, ballooning or flying
spiders, 120.
17
Artists as interpreters of the beauty
of the commonplace, 26.
Asters, no.
Attacus prometheus, 75.
Aurelias, 161.
BALLOON, the true, 118.
Ballooning spiders '{Argiope riparia],
annual picnic of, 114 ; shooting of
webs, 115 ; sailing out of sight ;
sending out broad bands from
their spinnerets, 117; skilful
handling, 118 ; making the bal-
loon ; the ascension ; manner of
alighting, 119.
Baltimore oriole, 172.
Banquet of beetles, 134.
Barberry blossoms, shrinking hearts ;
strange manners, 224 ; an unsus-
pecting agent, 227.
Bedegnar, sponge-gall, 43.
Bees : — bumble, 6, 91 ; honey,
7; yellow - jacket, 91 ; Andrena,
222.
Beetles: — floundering, i; tiger (Ci-
cindelid<z},Q\\,2; snapping (Elater),
258
INDEX
20'; perfumed (Osmoderma scabei],
133 ; blue oil, 239.
Bellworts, 44.
Bigelow, Hosea, quoted, 224.
Billings, Josh, quoted, 92, 124.
Birds' - nests, materials of: — milk-
weed bark, toad-skins, and snake-
skins, 171, 172 ; twine and horse-
hair, caterpillar-skins, 172 ; wool,
dandelion seeds, 173; gray lichens
and seeds, 177.
Black-paper hornet, his bad reputa-
tion, 94 ; a tempting target ; re-
sults of an attack on his house,
96 ; making themselves promiscu-
ous ; the stoical bachelor, 97 ; his
discomfiture, 98 ; antics explained;
his hiding - place revealed, 100 ;
favorite hunting-ground, 101 ; oc-
casional big game ; life of; manner
of laying eggs ; several broods in a
season, 102 ; number of tiers in a
nest ; winter the best time to ex-
amine nests, 103.
Black snake, 85.
Blossom etiquette, 221, 222.
Blue carnation, 46.
Blue dahlia, 45.
Blue oil beetle, 239.
Blue pansies, 46.
Blue rose, 45, 46.
Blue tulip, 45.
Bluets, Houstonia, 24, 208,
209.
Boletus, 142.
Bridge-building spiders, 104.
Brooklyn Bridge, 104 ; ' ' carrier "
or " traveller " should have been
called "spider," 105; Engineer
Farrington crossing, no.
Brown screech-owl, 151.
Browning, Robert, quoted, 26.
" Bull's-eye " caterpillar, 156.
Bumble-bee, 6, 91.
Butterflies asleep at night, 168.
Butterflies: — Idalia (Argynnis ida-
lia), Archippus (Danais archip-
pus\ yellow swallow-tails {Papilio
turnus}, 131 ; Red Admiral ( Va-
nessa Atalanta), 155, 158, 161 ;
"comma" {Vanessa comma), 156,
161, 170; Atalanta (Cynthia Ata~
lanfa), 158; semicolon (Vanessa
interrogationis), 161.
CANTERBURY bells, 42.
Cardanus quoted, 93.
Careless observation of nature, 185,
1 86.
Carnation, blue, 46.
Catbrier, 188.
Caterpillars : — woolly - bear {Arcti-
ada;), 148; "bull's-eye" (Satur-
nia To), 156; sphinx (Chczrocampa
panipenatrix, 241.
Cecropia, 156.
Chinese pink, 73.
Chipmonk, 153.
Chrysalids, 161.
Chrysanthemum, 86, 127.
Cicada, 87, 246 ; his manner of feed-
ing ; how he differs from the grass-
hopper ; the secret of his music,
250 ; his last song ; borne off by
his captor, 251 ; living food, 254;
suspended animation, 255.
Clintonia, 239.
Clothes moth (Tineidtz), 170.
Clover ( Trifolium ), four - leaved,
215; nine-leaved, found in groups,
216 ; possibilities of cultivation,
217 ; an exceptional find, 218,
INDEX
259
219 ; saying its prayers, 219 ;
lotus, 222.
Cobweb showers, 114; blinding
dogs interrupting sport, 114 ; flakes
and rags of, 1 1 5 ; silken streamers,
116; shower in Prospect Park,
Brooklyn, 120; on Brooklyn
Bridge, 121.
Cocoons: — curious, 145 ; solid to the
core, 147 ; ribs and vertebrae,
149 ; secret of the hollow, 151 ;
what the pellets were, 152 ; yield-
ing wasps, 242.
Colors of flowers, laws governing
colors and combinations, 44, 45 ;
natural exception to ; three pri-
mary colors in the hyacinth, Egyp-
tian lotus ; sky reflections destroy-
ing color, 45.
Columbine (Aqtiilegia canadensis, A.
chrysantha, A. caruleci), puzzling
color classification, from white
through all shades of red, yellow,
and blue, 46.
"Comma." See Butterflies.
Coral, gray, 73.
Cow-spittle, 84, 86.
Crickets, 71.
Cross - fertilization of flowers, 30,
167, 208, 211, 229.
Cuban belle's toilet, 21.
Culpepper, Dr., quoted, 154.
Cyanic, flowers with all shades of
blue and red without yellow, 45.
Cynips seminator, Cynips roses, gall-
flies, 40.
DAHLIA, blue, 45.
Daisy, pesky white weed, almost
identical with the marguerite, 25 ;
a marvel of a flower, 28, 205, 211.
Dandelion. Seeds used for birds'-
nests, 173 ; mutilation of, 174 ; a
week of retirement, 175 ; flight of
the seed-bed, 176; the burglar
discovered, 177, 211.
Darwin, 202, 209, 224.
Darwin flowers, 166, 167, 168.
De Candolle. Color limitations in
flowers, 45, 202.
Deer-mouse, 151.
Desmodium, 223.
" Digger - wasps," sand - hornets,
252.
Dungeons of death, 54.
EGYPTIAN history, 53.
Egyptian yellow lotus, 45.
Evening primrose (CEnothera bien-
nis), 85 ; luminous blossoms of,
163 ; daylight mystery ; seeds,
pods, and caterpillars, 164; curious
secret; two buds, 165; primrose
blooms for moths, 168 ; blighted
buds, 169 ; a poor recompense,
170.
FAIRY sponges, the growth of ; rich
colors of sweetbrier sponge, 38,
42 ; contents of the sponge, 42.
False scorpions (Pedipalpi}, 181 ;
among old books and papers ; born
rovers, 182.
Figwort (Scrophtilaria), tall and
spindling, purplish-olive blossoms ;
odor of; food for wasps, 28; fer-
tilized by wasps ; bud open in the
morning ; flowers change from day
to day, 30; growth of the ovary,
32.
Flies : — gall, 40 ; lace- wing, 122 ;
gold -banded, 129; house, 178;
260
INDEX
laphria, 182 ; ichneumon, 196 ;
parasitic, 200 ; harvest, 87, 246.
Floundering beetle, color of, i ;
funny characteristics of; leaking
habits, 2; playing possum, 3; feats
of; diminutive size when young ;
golden-yellow case, 4 ; number of
joints, 5 ; a snug resting-place ;
first outing, 6 ; in the bee hotel ;
transformation, 8 ; in the mummy-
case ; change of diet, 10.
Fly-fungus, 184.
Flying-machine, toy, 117.
Fox-fire, a column of phosphores-
cence, of greenish, ghostly hue, 12;
prosaic fence-post ; effect of a reflec-
tion of lantern in water, 13 ; feeding
on darkness, 14, short life of, 15 ;
village spook ; haunted mill, 16; a
night terror, 18 ; six square feet
of brilliancy, 19 ; yeast as a pos-
sible cause ; dead fish ; curious ef-
fect from decaying potatoes, 20 ;
phosphorus not always present ;
burnt oyster-shells in combina-
tion with certain acids ; the sup-
posed secret of, 22 ; decoy for
deer; the largest on record, 23.
Frog-hoppers, 89.
Frog-spit, 84, 89.
GALL-FLY ( Cynips senrinator, Cynips
rosce), 40 ; a cousin to the wasps ;
magician in chemistry, 41.
Genista, 223.
Geometrical web-makers, 120.
Ghost-fire, 15.
Gold-banded flower-fly, larva of, 129.
Gossamer showers, 113.
Gramatophora trisignata, ''Professor
Wiggler,"8i, 82.
Grape-vine, 186-194.
Grasshoppers, 71, 195 ; "Quakers;"
camp-meeting ground, 197 ; a para-
lyzed specimen ; unnatural move-
ments, 198 ; a transparent body,
199 ; a swarm of flies, 200 ; 246.
Green roses, 187.
Grew, Nehemias, 205.
HANG-BIRD. 172.
Harris, " Insects Injurious to Vegeta-
tion," quoted, 89, 134, 233, 237.
Harvest-fly, 87, 246.
Hawthorne's fox-fire, 19, 23.
" History of Selborne," 114.
Hollyhock, 45.
Honey-dew, 126.
Honey-sippers, 221.
Hornet, 87, 92 ; as mad as, 93 ;
always on the rampage, 94, 100,
102.
Horse -hair snakes, New England
farmers' idea of the origin of ;
stories of, 65 ; flying over the
meadows in haying time, 66 ; two
specimens in alcohol, 69 ; what
was found in a bait-box, 71.
" Hot-foot, "92.
House - fly ( Musca domestica ), his
never-ending toilet, 178 ; a curious
tag, 179; live young lobster,
strength of his grip, 180 ; his
many enemies ; abundant use for
all his eyes, 182 ; September and
October danger months ; the white
nimbus ; acute dyspepsia, 183.
Houstonia, bluets, 208, 209.
Hunters, 161.
Hyacinth, 45.
ICHNEUMON flies, 196.
INDEX
26l
Iclalia. See Butterflies.
JIBING neighbors, 68.
Johnny-jumper, 46.
Jussieu, 202.
KEATS, JOHN, quoted, 164.
LACE- WING fly (Chrysopa oculatd): —
Color of eyes and wings, 122 ;
lasting odor ; ways of the gauzy
sprite, 123; method of egg-laying ;
born in a land of plenty, 124 ; a
voracious appetite; tubular teeth,
126.
Lady-bug, larva of, 129.
" Laphria-fly," 182.
Lilac-bushes, 75.
Lindley, 202.
Linnaeus, 202, 206.
Locust, 232, 246.
Lotus clover, 222.
Lovelorn maiden, 213.
Lowell, James Russell, 224.
McCooK, Rev. Dr., quoted, 1 10-118.
Meadow contrasts, 247.
Mignonette, 204.
Monk's-hood blossom, 205.
Morning gossamer, 112.
Moths : — Polyphemus ( Telea poly-
pheimis), Attacus prometheus,
75, 196; Trisignata(6>ttWtf/0//&0ra
trisignata), 8 1 ; Cecropia, Bull's-
eye (Saturnia Id), 156; twi-
light moth; common clothes moth
(Tineidoe), 170.
Mullein ( Verbascum thrapsus), 25.
Mummy-cases, 54.
Mushrooms, 138 ; color of polypo-
rus, 139 ; manner of making a
spore -print, 140-144; colors of
prints; high relief , 142 ; fixing the
prints, 143.
Mutilla ant, 197.
NASTURTIUM, 205.
Nature, check to rapid increase of,
195-
Nelumbo, water-lily, 45.
Nettle (Celtis), 154.
Nettle-leaf tent-builders, laying the
egg, 155 ; contents of the curled
leaf, 156; gray and spine-covered,
156 ; rapid change of home, 157 ;
another specimen of different
color, stingless, 158 ; size of full-
grown specimen ; a surprise ; pre-
paring for the transformation,
159; an ever - interesting reve-
lation; quaint golden ear-
drops, 1 60 ; an astonishing trick,
161.
New England farmers, 65.
Niagara Suspension-bridge, manner
of laying, 105 ; identical with that
of the spider, 106.
Noctiluca^ marine phosphorescent
animalculse, 21.
Noisy wigglers, 76.
Nymphcca, water-lily, 45.
OAK-apple, 43.
October rowen-fields, 116.
Odor of woods, 131.
Oil beetle. See Beetles.
Old rose, 73.
Orb-weavers, 120.
Orchard oriole, 172.
Osmoderma scabei, perfumed beetle,
134-
Ovid quoted, 93.
262
INDEX
PANSIES ( Viola tricolor) : — Great va-
riety of color, 46 ; trickery of florists ;
aniline bath, 47 ; a chemical ex-
periment ; astonishing color, 48 ;
ammonia as an agent ; coloring an
entire plant emerald green, 50 ;
results from the fumes of sulphur
matches, 52.
Passion-flower, 189.
Passion-vine, 186.
Perfumed beetle (Osmoderma scabei),
curious odor of, 133 ; suggesting
Russia- leather ; home on the
maple-tree ; sipping the sap ; easily
startled, 134.
Pink, 205.
Plant-louse of the apple-tree, 236.
Pliny, 64, 114, 116, 252.
Pollen bearers, 30.
Polyphemus. See Moths.
Polyponts, 144.
Preservation of food by wasps, 256.
Primrose ash, 73.
Professor of biology, 70.
" Professor Wiggler," what a florist's
window suggested ; the lilac-bush
his home, 73 ; his characteristics,
74 ; how he came to be named ;
bringing him up by hand, 75 ;
lively capers, 76 ; five changes of
clothes; voracious feeding, 77; how
he retains his head-shells, 78 ; dig-
ging out a home, 79 ; home com-
pleted; skilful concealment; what
comes from the cocoon, 81 ; bur-
rowing habits, 82.
Puff-balls, 136; its purple cloud,
136 ; rapid change of substance ;
its cloud mass of reproductive
atoms, 137 ; same results from
mushrooms and toadstools, 138.
Pungent odors, 132.
"QUAKER." See Grasshopper.
" RACER," 85.
Red Admiral. See Butterflies.
" Red-hot child of nature," 92, 96.
Redstart, 176.
Red-tailed hawk, 152, 153.
Riddles in flowers, 202 ; curi-
ous specimens ; botanists and
philosophers, 204 ; pollen - carry-
ing, 207 ; galaxy of white or
blue stars, 208 ; variety of con-
struction, 209 ; solving the riddle,
211.
Riley, C. V., quoted, 254.
" Robin's pin-cushion," 43.
Roland for an Oliver, 59.
Roots, becoming stems and bearing
leaves, 87.
Rose garden, 126.
Roses, blue, 45, 46; green, 187.
Rosy moth, 85.
Rowen-field, 116, 218.
SABBATH sanctuary bouquet, 26.
Sacred " scarabaeus," emblem of im-
mortality, 53.
Sage blossom, its welcome to the
bee, 221.
Sand-hornet: — Prospecting for game,
249 ; the capture, 250 ; manner of
transporting its prey, 251 ; its col-
or and terrible sting, 252 ; not to
be trifled with ; its home in the
sand-bank, 253 ; deposits its egg
and leaves, 254 ; its mysterious
poison, 256.
Scrophularia, figwort, 28.
Semicolon. See Butterflies.
INDEX
Sheep-spit, 84.
Singular mimic fruit, 42.
Small speckled beetle, 86.
Smilax, 188.
Snake expert, 67.
Snake stories, 65.
Snake-spit, 84, 85.
Snapping beetle. See Beetles.
" Snpwin' 'pider-webs," 113.
Sphinx caterpillar (Chccrocatnpa pam-
penatrix) with his burden, 241,
242 ; the mischief-maker (Micro-
gaster, 245.
Spice-bush, 131, 132.
Spiders, webs one hundred feet long ;
autumn best time for observa-
tion, 106 ; precocious baby spiders ;
building a bridge, 108; moored by
guy threads, no ; ballooning, 112;
at sea, 113.
Sponge -ball, commonly known as
Bedegnar, 43.
Sprengel, 166, 202, 206.
" Spume - bearer " (Aphrophord), 89 ;
allied to bugs ; his aerated bath ;
graduation from his surroundings,
87 ; his color and size ; his alert-
ness, 88 ; time of egg-laying and
hatching ; power of leaping, 89 ;
no secret process of making suds ;
sun's evaporation necessitates con-
tinuous additions, 90.
Squirrel, 153.
Statue of Liberty, 108.
Stems assuming the functions of
roots, 187.
Summer meadows, 83.
Sweetbrier sponge, 40.
Sweet-pea, 188.
Tachina, a parasitic fly, 200.
Tendrils, what they are ; a stem or
modified root, 187 ; reaching for
conquest, 188 ; not a special or
primal organ, 189 ; method of con-
traction, 191 ; the reverse twist, its
function, 192 ; singular botanical
prank, 194.
Thelaphora ccerulea, fox-fire, 22.
Tiger -beetle, wonderful speed and
agility of, 2.
Toad-spit, 84.
Toadstools, 19, 138.
Trailing cobwebs, 113.
True locust, the, 232.
Tulip, blue, 45.
Tumble - bug, his former eminence,
53 ; used for ornaments and deco-
rative purposes ; his proud lineage,
54 ; male and female inseparable ;
the two familiar species ; its season,
55; curious antics; bug talk, 56; a
question of selection, 58 ; indefati-
gable workers ; manner of working,
59 ; Mrs. Tumble-bug's industry,
60 ; singular manner of burying
the ball, 61 ; the chrysalis state,
62 ; young Mr. Tumble-bug begins
life, 63.
Twilight moth. See Moths.
UNION Square Fountain, 45.
VIREO, strange materials in the nest
of, 147, 164, 171, 172.
WASPS, as cross-fertilizers, 30 ; man-
ner of transferring pollen, 31, 91 ;
" Digger, "sand-hornets, 242, 252.
Weeds, artistically treated, 27 ;
barn-yard weeds no longer com-
monplace, 28.
264
INDEX
Welcome odor of the woods, 131.
Welcome of the flowers, 30, 223.
White, Gilbert, quoted, 114-117.
White,J., 161.
White Mountains, 97.
White-tailed black wasp, 94.
Wiggler moth (Graniatophora trisig-
nata), time of appearance of,
81.
Wild-star cucumber, 189.
Witch-hazel divining-rod, 214.
Wolf-spiders, short-legged dodgers;
crab - like manner of walking,
120.
Wrood-fairies at work ; their magic
wands', 36 ; mischief-makers, 37 ;
results of their pranks, 38.
Woolly-bear caterpillar. See Cater-
pillar.
Woolly flock, 230 ; expert in bugs,
231 ; what constitutes a bug, 232,
235 ; first appearance in June ; on
alders ; destruction of apple-trees ;
sucking-beaks, 233 ; wingless but
covered with woolly down, 236.
Worm-eating warbler, vireo, 164.
XANTHIC, flowers including yellow
in their color, 45.
YELLOW geranium, 45.
Yellow larkspur, 45.
Yellow-jacket bee, 91.
Yellow- warbler, 171.
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