. I ■-' >■ > Leaves f™^;:- Note Book of a Naturalist 'f^Ji*?^ ^>^^- NORTH CAROLINA STATE UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES S00943449 X LIBRARY OF 1685- IQ56 X, t' V l^wT,\, v^T-^.*, C.,*--v_ «^ ^ l>i,A,-.^ V-r C7"V^>^ TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM ; S^Htrfs from tire |t0tc-gaok 0f a paturnlist. BY HENRY C. McCOOK, D.D., Vice-President of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, Vice-Director of the American Entotnological Society. WITH AiY INTRODUCTION BY SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, M.P., F.R.S., Etc. ILL USTRA TED FROM NA TUR E. HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW. MDCCCLXXXVIII. Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury. INTRODUCTION My frieud Dr. McCook, already well known to naturalists for his " Natural History of the Agricultural Ants of Texas/' and his work on "The Honey and Occident Ants," has recently published a volume of Natural History in a more popular form, which is about to appear in an Euglish edition, and is anxious, though I should hardly have thought it necessary, for a few lines of introduction to English readers. The President of the Linn^ean Society* has done me the honour of asking me to perform this pleasant task. He might well have done so himself, but devolved it on me, because in <' Tenants of an Old Farm " Dr. McCook deals with friends of mine, — with insects, and par- ticularly ants, to which I have paid special attention. I have much pleasure in bearing testimony to the fidelity and skill which Dr. McCook has devoted to the study of these interesting atoms ; and those who read his * W. Carruthers, Esq., F.R.S., Keeper of the Botanical Department at the British Museum. vi PREFACE TO ENGLISH EDITION. work may safely depend on the accuracy of what he says. I confess that, like Dr. McCook himself, I am one of those who think "that the truths of Nature are attractive enough in themselves, and need not the seasoning of fiction, even of so mild a flavour as offered by the 'Tenants.'" But both he and I are perhaps too much devoted to Natural History to be able to judge for others on this point. Moreover, as regards the attractive manner in which the book is written, English readers have much more conclusive testimony than any single opinion — and especially one which migbt be biassed by friendship, for they have the evidence of the wide popularity which the work has already attained in America. The title seems to me very happily chosen. It reminds us that we are not the only tenants of our farms — that the fields and hedges, woods and waters, all around us, teem with a complex, rich, and interesting life. But nature will speak only to those who listen with love and sympathy ; and of this varied existence Dr. McCook has proved himself one of the most patient and loving students. M,J.^(,ook^ AUTHOR'S PPxEFACE. The purpose of this book is to present a series of exact truths from Natural History in a popular form. The author firmly believes that study of the struc- ture, conditions and behavior of all created things highly tends to elevate human character. Under such conviction he consented to write a number of essays upon insect life with a particular view to his own specialties — ants and spiders. It was agreed that these essays should express the latest and best results of scientific research, and thus have a real scientific value and standing. As to form, the papers were to be adapted to the taste and understanding of lay or non-scientific readers. This original plan was afterward so far changed, under the persuasion of friends, as to give the essays a colloquial form, introducing thereinto something of that interest which attaches to the play of various human characters. The author is free to confess that the change was made after much hesitation on his part. Like most naturalists, he thinks that the truths of Nature are attractive enough in themselves and need not the seasoning of fiction, even of so mild a flavor as offered by the "Tenants." Moreover, he seriouslj- distrusted (vii) viii PREFACE. his ability to cast the natural facts at his command into any narrative form that would reasonably satisfy the just demands of literature. Nevertheless, as those whose judgment he most trusted believed that such a form would give his studies a wider circulation, a kindlier welcome, and so a larger influence, he ven- tured upon the proposed change. Whatever maybe tke verdict on the above point pro- nounced by those who may read these pages, this at least should be said : the facts in !N'atural History here presented may be accepted as correct, or as nearly so as is allowed one who works in such a" field. Most of the fixcts given have come under the writer's own ob- servation. Where he has gone to other naturalists for information he has used the utmost care to be accurate. These remarks apply also to the popular superstitions concerning insects for whose expression " old Dan" and " Sary Ann" have been invented. Indeed Dan is not so much an invention as an adaptation of a real char- acter. The plan as originally proposed included references to all works consulted, and credit to every author cited. It is a cause of serious regret that this feature had to be dropped as obviously out of place in a scientific pastoral like the " Tenants," however proper in a series of scientific essays. All the heartier, therefore, are the thanks here rendered to the earnest, loving and labor- ious naturalists who have contributed by writings and word of mouth to these pages. It only remains to be said that the numerous illustra- PREFACE. IX tions (with a single exception) have been prepared expressly for this work, and (with very few exceptions) have been drawn from nature or after the author's sketches from nature. They are not only original — many of them presenting subjects in natural history that have never before been illustrated — but are cor- rect, and, for the most part, artistic, although scientific verity has been the chief aim. To Mr. Edward Shep- pard and IMr. Frank Stout, who made the larger part of the natural history drawings, especial recognition is due. The admirable comical adaptations of Mr. Dan Beard are, of course, sui generis^ and are not without real value in illustrating the text which they brighten with the play of mirth. The absence of his skillful hand from the closing chapters is owing to an accident which threatened the loss of his eyesight, a calamity that happily has been averted. In the belief that this book contains enough original observations to make it valuable to working naturalists, an index of the scientific matter has been prepared. PuiLADELPHiA, September, 1S84 CONTENTS. Chapters. page I. Transformed and Transferred . . 9 II. Renewing Old Acquaintance . . .13 III. The Tenants Preparing for Winter . 2G IV. Winter Tenants of Our Trees . . 39 V. Moths at the Fireside .... 63 VI. Pellionella andPomonella — A Chroni- cle of "Old Clo's " and Windfalls . 84 VII. Measure for Measure .... 103 VIII. Insect Troglodytes . . . . . 121 IX. Cave-dwelling Insects .... 143 X. The History of a Humble-Bee . . 162 XI. Insect Engineering — Bridge -building « AND Ballooning Spiders . , . 185 XII. Argonaut and Geometer. . . . 306 XIII. A Battle, a Conquest, and a Night- Raid — The Cutting- Ant of Texas . 230 XIV. A Tour Through a Texas Ant-Hill . 252 XV. The Cricket on the Hearth . . . 277 XVI. Music-Making Insects .... 399 XVII. " Sermons IN "—Ants . . . .330 XVIII. Seventeen Years Under Ground . . 353 XIX. Housekeeping in a Basket . . . 377 XX. Sartor Insectorum . . . . . 400 XXI. Nature's First Paper-MaivERs . . 436 XXII. New Tenants and Old Friends . . 448 (xi) ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece Argiope and Snare Studying Bank Argiope's Snare Cocoon of Argiope Riparia A Brood of Spiderlings on their First Outing Spiders at Cape May " Collecting a Specimen " . " Scalpage " .... 8. Snare and Egg-sacs of Caudata . 9. Caudata's Cocoons, with Scalpage 10. Egg-sac of Banded Argiope 11. Snare of Argiope Fasciata 12. Decoration of Fasciata 13a Polyphemus Moth (Female) lob Larva of Polyphemus Moth 13c Cocoon of Polyphemus Moth 14. Dame Nature Strips Young Polyphemus for Rest 15. Pupa of Polyphemus . 16. Cecropia Moth (Platysamia cccropia) 17. Pupa of Butterfly Vanessa 18. Cluster of Cynthia Cocoons 19. The Sparrows' Sparring Match . 20. The Rape of the Yarns 21. Cocoon of Cecropia Moth 22 Cecropia Cocoon Partly Dissected 23. Potato- worm, Larva of /S^j/uMX Quinque-macnlata 24. Pupa of Potato-moth 25. Sphinx Quinque-maculata 26. Riddle of the Sphinx . 27. The Shadow of a Moth 28. Death's Head Moth and Larva 29. The Mistress's Contribution 30. A Case of " Old Clo's " and Charity 31. Burrow of Apple-worm o2. Cocoon, Pupa, Female and Larva of the Codling Moth, and a Parasitic Ichnuemon Fly 33. A Mothical Version of Tell and the Apple (xii) 8 15 18 21 23 25 27 28 32 33 35 37 38 40 41 42 45 46 48 50 53 55 59 63 67 69 70 72 76 79 82 85 89 93 95 99 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 4.5. 46. 47. 48. 40. .50. .51. 52. .53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66, 67. 68, 69 70 The Geometrid Honor Tussock Moth, Orfjia Lcucostigma, Male, Female aud Larva .... know what to or of Humble- Enticements of Cocoon of Tussock Moth Our Imported Protectors A Mother Moth A Geometrid Turnverein Orchard Moth The Clothes Barker's Paradise Ancient Cave-dwellers Cave-dwellers, Ancient and Modern Turret Spider's Nest and Tower Cotton-lined Nest of Turret Spider A Mother Spider and her Brood " She had so many children, she didn' do" . . : Seaside Residence of Turret Spider Entrance to the Humble Bees' Cave The Mole Cricket — its Cave and Eggs Queen, Male, Workers Minor and Maj Bee {Bomh^is Virginicus) Wild Aborigines Exterminated by the the Jug Cave and Cell-nest of Humble-Bees The Dude of the Beehive— Poor Drone Humble-Bee Upholstery- Worker Burr lets, and Queen Covering her Nest Mattress-making—" Tucking up the holstery " Apiarian Enemies and Friends Curtain of Wax-worlcers Face of Hurable-Bee— Showing Tongue Mrs. Bumble Fills the Honey Jars The Basket Bee .... Hind Leg of a Working Humble Bee, to Show the Basket . . . • The Basket-burdened Bee comes Home A Spider's Suspension Bridge Kiting the Cataract Ballooning or Flying Spiders Ballooning Spider Preparing to Ascend , The Original Brookline Bridge—" Engineer Arachne Makes the First Crossing , Silken Bridge Built by Baby Spiders . . . . . Water Spiders and their Egg-Sac Caisson . owinor for Root- Tufts of Up- 10.5 105 106 109 110 111 113 115 123 127 131 133 137 138 149 145 149 1.53 156 159 161 165 167 173 175 177 179 180 181 182 190 195 197 199 201 204 208 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. or of 71. Putting Spokes to the Wheel 72. The First Radii 73. Alternate Apposition .... 74. Spiral Foundations — Putting in the Spirals 7.5. Arachne's Pearls — Viscid Beads . 76. Preceptor to His Majesty : Robert Bruce and the Spider 77. " Nobody in, Sir, Pass On !" 78. Winged Female, Male, Soldier and Worker-Maj Cutting-Ant {Attafervens^) 79. Mound-Nest of Cutting-Ant 80. Procession of Parasol or Cutting-Ants . 81. The Parasol Ant — An Emmet Robinson Crusoe 82. Defoliated Twig of Pride-of-China-Tree 83. Ant Making a Cutting from a Live Oak Leaf 84. Head of a Cutting Ant 85. Ants Bewitching Cows ...... 86. Knights of Myrmecology Storming the Ant-Hill 87. View of Trench Exposing the Interior of Cutting-An Hill 88. Cave of the Cutting-Ant, Showing the Leaf-Combs 89. Pride-of-China-Tree Stripped of Leaves on One Side by Cutting-Ant 90. An Underground Route of Cutting-Ants 91. The Gate Closed 92. The Gate Open 93. Preparing to Close the Nest .... 94. An Emmet " Dumping " — A Mason Squad at Worl 95. A Patent Ant Extei'minator .... 96. The Cricket on the Hearth .... 97. White Crickets, Male and Female 98. Black Crickets ((?r?/Zfe.s Mir/e?-) .... 99. The White Cricket's Serenade .... 100. Dan's Ideal Cricket on the Hearth — Sarah Blows the Couch-shell for Dinner 101. Katydids, Male and Female .... 103. Cicada, Female and Male ; Locust ^dijioda Carolina 103. The Music of Boyhood — A Reminiscence 104. The Blue Church • 105. The Grasshopper's Dirge . . • . ■ 106. Agricultural Ants Encaged in Cutting Grass • 107. Front Yard Roads of Ants' Nests 108. Ant Clearing in a Weed Forest .... 109. Undergrade Ant-road in Fairmount Park 110. Granaries, Showing Seeds and Stores . 211 211 218 315 217 219 222 237 239 241 242 244 245 245 249 255 256 258 261 264 266 267 268 272 274 279 285 291 293 296 301 311 318 334 327 331 334 336 338 343 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 111. Mound-nest of Occident-Ant • • . . ll!i- Interior Plan of Storerooms and Galleries • 113- Open Granary of Harvesting-Ant . , 114-. Occident-Ant Gathering Sunflower Seed 115. Granaries of the Pennsylvania Harvester 116. Egg-nests of Mother Cicada . • . . . 117- A Leap for Life — the Cicada Underground . 118. Fleeing from the Flood — Cicada Towers 119. Out of the Shell at Last ..... 120. Basket on Pine ....... 121. Basket-worm Drawn Up to Feed or Spin 122. Prospecting Bag-worm 123- Feeding on Pine ....... 12-4. Cutting a Twig of Arbor Vitte .... 125. How the Bag-worms Walk and Climb . 126. Sewed Leaf-nest of the Insular Spider {Epelra insu laris) ••••..... 127- Leaf-nest of the Shamrock Spider (I.peira trifolium) 128. Nest of Leaf-cutting Bee 129. Rolled Leaf-nest of Tortricid Moth 130-131. Work of Leaf-rolling Moth .... 132. Nest of Leaf-rolling Caterpillar .... 133. Showing How the Leaf is Curled .... 134-13o- Female and Male of the Tent-caterpillar Moth 136. Nest of the Tent-caterpillar Moth 137. Nest of the Ringed or Rust-red Wasp (Polistes aimn latiia) . 138. Nest of American Hornet ( Ffspa maculata) 139. Interior of Hornet's Nest, Showing the Combs . .344 346 346 347 348 357 363 368 .371 385 386 387 389 393 395 403 405 409 413 416 417 417 421 423 430 435 439 140. Wasp's Nest with Tubular Entrance . . . 445 L CHAPTER I. TRANSFORMED AND TRANSFERRED. At last the old farni-liouse at Highwood had a tenant. For 3'ear.s it had stood vacant, thante to the conserv- ative spirit of the owner, a wealthy rural manufac- turer, who refused to lease it save on condition that all its antique style and fixtures should be maintained. Thanks, also, to the luxurious notions of American housekeepers, no acceptable tenant had yet been found willing to submit to the conditions. AVith that steadiness which marks the return of un- inhabited places to a state of nature, the house and its surroundings had fallen into decay. The premises were in sad contrast with the thrifty appeai-ance of the place in the day of good Farmer Townes, who had lived in it from his infanc}"^ until death. Thus by a kind destiny Highwood was reserved for us. Very cheerfully we covenanted well and truly to preserve to the place all its primitive features. Tlie ancestral shrines of the Lares and Penates of the old Quaker farmer and his Quaker forefathers should not be disturbed by the iu- 1 ^=^ 10 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. vacling family of " world's people." On the other hand, the proprietor, heart-sore over the advancing decay of his property, willing to serve a friend, and, at the same time seat him in his own near neighborhood, under- took to introduce enough modern improvements to bring into Highwood a reign of comfort and health. Therefore, we signed the lease and became the Tenants of the Old Farm. On the first day of October we took possession. A bright, warm morning, well worthy to open the door of that month whose varied beauties and rich vitality make it the halcyon season of our American year. "Old Dan," a colored laborer, met us at the road-side gate with pleasant smile, polite bow, and a hearty " Welcome to Highwood !" The Ijroad lane through which we drove was skirted on cither side by a row of trees — on this side locusts, a favorite wood with our fathers ; on the other, cherries, a canny or benevolent mingling of the useful and ornamental, for which the country-side boys had inwardly blessed the memory of Friend Townes. Hugh Bond met us at the yard-gate. " Our farmer " we called him ; our man-of-all-work he was, in fact, to be. He greeted us with a quiet "Good morning," be- coming equally an independent freeman and an honest employe, and proceeded with much satisfaction to show us the " improvements " that had been wrought. They were visible enough to our eyes, but why should we recite them here ? Suffice it to say the old trees near the front had been spared, but trimmed high up to TRANSFORMED AND TRANSFERRED. 11 admit the sunlight to the chill stone walls ; a new porch guarded the threshold, instead of its tumble-down pre- decessor ; inside, the wainscoting had been repaired, walls neatly papered, and, finally, modern grates filled most of the wide chimney-places, a concession to the scarcity of wood and the abundance of coal. "With warm carpets under foot, the household furniture in place, the pretty curtains at the square, small-paned windows, and the general air of cozincss and home that filled all the house, like the odor of Mary's ointment, it was indeed a transformation. What eye could have seen through and beyond all the cheerlessness, disorder and dirt of the miserable farm-house that I looked at a month ago, the possibilities of so bright a home ? Wliose heart had the cunning to devise, whose hands the deftness to bring about this change ? — whose but the dear housewife's, who beamed amidst it all with a face from which, for the hour, happiness and content had driven the anxiety that had stopped thereon too often during the last year ? Yes, the magic wand that had summoned back the exiled fairies of home was the touch of the New Mistress of the Old Farm. " A year of retirement and rest will restore his vigor and save him for the future." That was the ultimatum of Doctor Hayes. Promptly the mistress assented. The master yielded to the inevitable only after a long, hard struggle. Do you wonder ? An active life planted in a great city and come to the meridian of manhood, has many and strong roots. They run deep, they branch widely, they 12 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. clasp and entwine tightly a multitude of persons, ob- jects, causes, plans. It is no light work to tear them up on sudden notice and transplant them to a rural home. But we have paid this penalty to over-work, and now for a year shall try the virtues of " vegetat- ing." To work in the field or sleep in the house ; to sit or walk or ride or recline ; to keep the mind pleasantly occupied and the body in the open air ; to drift on easily with time and chance, and to — wait ! Such is the life which the Doctor ])ids me live. Well, a worse prescrip- tion perhaps might have been prepared. I shall take my medicine honestly, for, in sooth, one cannot — as with other doctors' nostrums that I wot of — throw this remedy out of the window. CHAPTER II. KENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. " We ai-e not the only tenants of this Old Farm !" "Indeed!" said the mistress, resting the feather- brush a moment, for she was dusting the bric-a-brac upon our little parlor mantelpiece — "indeed ?" The first utterance was exclamatory, the second in- terrogatory, and the two together, taken with the glance cast at her spouse, expressed surprise, incred- ulity and inquisitiveness in due proportion and succes- sion. I stood at the open door, fencing out with my walk- ing-stick our watch-dog "Dolf," who was always in- clined to run into the forbidden precincts of the parlor. We were outfitted for a long walk, Dolf and I. " It is quite true," I said, solemnly ; " we are not the only tenants. There are a score — a hundred — in fact I know not how many races of inhabitants here, all to the manor born, and with a pedigree ante-dating "William Penn and his charter, his treaties and his aboriginal treators. They are the real ' original inhabitants ' — the birds and beasts and flying-creeping things. I made the discovery yesterday. I am going to make the acquaintance of my fellow-tenants to-day. Good- by, nijj- dear. Come, Dolf!" 13 14 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "We walked out, leaving the mistress brushing the mantelpiece, with a brightened look, for, thank God ! her spouse had found at last a congenial outdoor occupation. Not a new one, however, by any means. Months afterward I learned that in the conspiracy for my health between doctor and wife there had been strong reliance upon a revival of the early tastes and pursuits of a naturalist, which had been pushed to the wall by engrossing business, to tide over a crisis, send the invalid into the health-giving fields, and hold him there content during the interval of rest. "It was a happy moment indeed," the mistress said, "when the returning interest in your old studies, announced at our parlor door, showed me that the spirit of languor and decline had given back before a rising current of vitality. It was a red-letter morning, that, in my life, and the rainbow of hope bent above the old farm-house the livelong day." Meanwhile, quite unconscious of the little woman's secret joj's, master and dog were tramping aci'oss the meadow toward the small stream that threads the farm known as Townes' Run. The feathery grasses grew high along the banks ; clumps of tall reeds stood in the little basins like squads of gi'cnadicrs ; tufts of golden rod and wild asters, weeds and youngling bushes overhung tlie narrow channel. Yesterday I had found there, as I had carelessly strode on, the snare of a friend of other days, the Bank Argiope — Argiopc riparid. I stooped to look and admire the coniel}- spider hanging upon her white central shield. (Fig. 1.) '^F- ■■■-"^=-^'*-::;;;:'::vrNif!ililill'l:ii;('ii:ilH|:i|,:!ri:;ii;ii!!i!T;ii;i1Ui::i::l!l PIG- 1 — AKGIOPE AND SNAKE. 15 16 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. You do not believe, perhaps, iu the sudden birth of a soul into a new passion, or its sudden palingenesis — its rebirth — into an old love and life ? Nevertheless, as I kneeled in the grass before that web of silken threads, brought out in detail against the background of a black slouch hat held behind it, the old passion came back as with a bound, and seated itself in my heart. Many years before this, during a brief enforced idleness, in a moment like the present, when the body was drifting deviously before an aimless wind, a similar vision had awakened, as by a new birth, the first special love of a naturalist. Memory now recalled vividly the whole outward details of that scene, indeed my very thoughts and feelings. Was it merely a trick of mental associa- tion ? When forests of black-jack oak succeed burned pines on a Jersey barren, and chestnut groves follow a spruce-clearing in the Alleghanies, botanists suggest that it is simply a return to an earlier state, permitted by a removal of the restraining conditions. Do old mental moods, long buried under other courses ol thought and emotion, spring up in full force again when overlying habits are set aside ? But this is a digression into the field of philosophy. We return to our meadow and the Bank Argiope. She is among the most beautiful of our native spiders, and is our largest si:)ecies of orljweavers, witli the ex- ception of the Plumefoot Nephila [Nephila plnmipes) of the far Southern states. She is quite continental in her habitat, as I have traced her westward through Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Nebraska, to the Eocky RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 17 Mountains, northward to Vermont, and southward as far as Texas and Florida. She has adapted herself to the widely-separated conditions of this immense terri- tory without any perceptible variation in form or habit. Let me describe her : her cephalothorax (united head and chest, or head-thorax) is robed in a beautiful silver-drab, so that thus far she has adopted the tradi- tional color of the Society of Friends. But in the rest of her body she is not so orthodox, for the abdomen is beautifully marked Avith black, yellow and brown. Her eight legs are dark orange, ringed with brown and Ijlack. She has no fixed popular name, although I have hoard her called the large meadow spider. She belongs to the group known as orbweavers {Oi-fci(e?rtri'a'), because of the wheel-shaped geometric snare which they spin. There is a peculiarity in her snare, as it is generally formed, which at once marks it. In the centre, or hub, is Avoven a thick white silken oval patch, from the top ot which extends upward a ribbon of like material. From beneath runs downward a zigzag cord, which resembles more closely than anything I know in natural spinning- Avork, the " Avinding-stair " up Avhich the unhappy fly AA'as " dragged into the dismal den," according to the plaintive school-book classic of the " Spider and the Fly." Ai-giope loves such sites as the reedy banks of Townes' Kun, and one Avill often see her web SAvung among the tall grasses and bushes, Avhile the occupant hangs head doAvnward upon her central shield. I had unfolded a light camp-stool and was seated con- tentedly sketching this pretty object Avhen a light tread 1 ^- >l 5 RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 19 was heard iu the grass, and a woman's voice saluted me, Ah])y Bradford is a hright New England girl, of good family, good education, good manners, and good looks withal. She had held a position under the govern- ment in Glen Mills, just heyond, where the jiaper used in national hank notes had heen made. When that most convenient medium of exchange, the fractional currency, was so miwisely aholished, Ahhy's occupa- tion was gone, hut an engagement to teach Ilighwood district school recalled her from her Massachusetts home. After the foshion of the country-side, she must find a home in one of the rural families, and very gladly wife had welcomed her to the Old Farm. Her presence would relieve the solitude of our country-place, Avhieh was our advantage ; and a kindly home with congenial friends was hers. We shall know her hetter hy-and-hy, hut I may say here that we had cause often to con- gratulate ourselves upon the good fortune that hrought the school-mistress into our family. "What!" she sa,id, when we had exchanged greet- ings, "are you sketching? I did not know that you were an artist." "I am not an artist," I answered; "hut necessity has forced upon me a little rude skill with the pencil. Will you see my work ?" I gave her the note-hook, and pointed to my suhject hanging among the golden rods and grasses at our feet. "A spider ? Oh, the ugly creature !" The }'oung lady stepped hackward a pace with this characteristic exclamation. As though to resent the 20 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. insult put upon her, the Bank Ai'giope hegan to shake her shield, commencing slowly, and waxing faster and faster in her movements until the whole web was in violent oscillation. "See!" I said, "You have wounded the creature's vanity, or, at least, you have awakened her fears. Wait until she has quieted, then look closely and see if either her person or work is worthy of so harsh a criticism. There, the web is still now — what say you ?" "I do declare," answered the honest maiden, "it isnH so ugly after all, and the net is really a work of art. Certainly, I should know better than to speak lightly of any of J^ature's children ; but then, you know, spiders do seem an exception. Everybody fears and dislikes them." " Yes, you doubtless speak for your race. There is perhaps no creature with which man is intimately asso- ciated that has come in for a larger share of aversion than our humble friend Arachne. Like most human prejudices, this is an undeserved and unreasonable feel- ing. The spider is a true philanthropist. She is, with- out reservation, a friend to our race, destroying noxious insects by myriads, and making in return no impost or levy upon oui orchards, vineyards, cupboards or cellars. She is not the only example of unrewarded merit — of an ill name earned by a supposed ugly visage ; in short, of a prophet without honor in his own country. Nor are spiders all so very ugly, as you have con- fessed. The fact is they liave been deteriorated by too close contact with man. The house and cellar spi- flG. o. — COCOOX OF AKGIOI'E IlIPAKIA. SI 23 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAR3I. ders, the occupants of our own homes, with which we ofteiiest meet, are precisely the ones least at- tractive to our e3'es. If you will take the pains to search the flowers and shrubs, forests and ferns, you shall find that there are spiders with as fair an exterior, in point of color, at least, as more favorite animals. Even birds, be it remembered, have their buzzards and vultures ; and at all events, as long as ladies will insist upon shuddering at sight of the most beautiful animal in creation — the serpent — we may feel justified in disrc- gardhig their prejudice against poor Arachne. How- ever, when you know her better, I am sure you will like her more." "Mr. Mayfield," cried Abby, " I must protest now ! Surely you are not in earnest when you call the serpent 1)eautiful ? I might come over to your opinion as to sjiiders and insects, but — snakes ! Ugh !" "What is this?" I asked, touching a spiral bracelet upon her wrist. " A mimic silver serpent ! And this ?" I added, lifting the links of a gold watch-chain, coiled at her waistband. "And this?" pointing to coils of brown hair upon the back of her head. "Here is your own witness that serpentine forms, at least, are not lacking in beauty. Ladies do not decorate their persons with ugly things." The play of mind upon Abby's face was a pleasant study as she followed these sentiments, evidently quite new and startling. The mantling cheeks and kindled brown eyes betrayed the mixed nature of her feelings — the pleased surprise of novel thought ; the confusion FIG. 4. — A BU001> OF SPIDEKLIXGS ON TUEIK FIUST OUTING. 23 34 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. of a mind detecting itself in error — doubt and keen in- quiry, as tliougb the latent sophistry of my remarks were suspected but not seen. I followed up my advan- tage. " Cast your eye along this little stream as it skirts yonder hill-side and pursues its winding course across the meadow. Has it not taken upon itself the external and formal limitations of your ' ugly snake '? If a poet were to speak of it as 'crawling,' or of its ' serpentine way,' would he not be borrowing terms from the snake's natural action to express his idea of beautiful form and motion ? The progress of a serpent over the ground or through the water is the very ideal of free, graceful movement. Then, as to its anatomy — but, come, I must not be too fierce an iconoclast, or I shall cause a reaction in your thoughts against my animal friends, and quite spoil any good effect that I may have wrought in their behalf. This is your Saturday holiday ; can you join me for one hour in a morning stroll along the run ? I promise you some new and I hox^e agreeable acquaintances." FIG. 5. — SPIDEHS AT CAPE MAT, 35 CHAPTER III. THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR "WINTER. '• Stop ! Look into this clumj) of grasses and tell lue what you see." '• I see nothing of special interest," said the school- mistress. " The bearded heads of the grass have been twisted together by some passing animal, I suppose, but that is all. Ah, no ! I see now. Here is a beautiful little pear-shaped nest himg among the foliage. I have seen similar ones in New England, though I am sure I cannot guess what it is unless it be the cocoon of a cater- pillar." "N"o, it is the egg-sac, or, as it is technically called (although somewhat loosely), the ' cocoon ' of our Bank Argiope. It has evidently just been made ; we shall find the mother near by. Ah, here she is ! Alarmed by our approach she has hidden among these leaves. Ob- serve how the abdomen has shrunken as compared with the specimen we first saw, who was distended with eggs, which, by-and-by, she will dispose of in a like cocoon. Excuse me a moment ; I must captuie this little mother before telling more of her story." Taking a paper box from my satchel I opened it, placed the two parts on opposite sides of the sjnder. gently approximated them until tlie body was insida 26 THE TENANTS PREPARINO FOR WINTER. 27 lightly pressed the struggling legs until they too were pulled within, then closed the box and put it in my pocket (Fig. ti.) FIG. fi. — "collecting A SPECIMEN." "Isn't that cruel?" abruptly asked ni}- companion, who had watched the process of "collecting a speci- men " with curious eye. "Cruel? No. I should be sorry to give needless pain to any creature ; nor do I feel entitled to use my lordship over the life of the humblest insect except for a sufficient and benevolent end. As a priest in the temple of Nature I may dedicate this victim to Science. I shall see that she has a painless death. Moreover, her days are already numbered by the irrevocable decree of Nature ; after the spinning of a cocoon the mother- spider hangs upon it or near it for a few days, and then dies." "I have noticed," remarked Abby, plainly not quite satisfied that T had made out a good case, but willing to 28 THE TENANTS PR EPA RING FOR WINTER. 30 chani;c the subject, " that spiders are nearly always found alone. Do they never go in pairs or groups V" " In a few species the male and female dwell together ■, you will sometimes see broods of younglings massed to- gether in little balls, or seated on their webs in little clusters (Fig. 4); you will even see large colonies of adults as on the boat-houses of Atlantic City and Cape May — each on an independent web, however (Fig. 5), But as a rule Arachne, in her social habits, is the very opposite of the social ants, bees and wasps. She is a solitary body, and welcomes all visitors as the famous Buck- eye wagoner, Tom Corwin, advised the Mexicans to welcome our invading army, ' with bloody hands to hos- pitable graves.' Nevertheless the maternal instinct is quite as strong within her as in any other animal. "Here, now, is our Argiope's cocoon. See what a pretty shelter-tent has been made by lashing these plants together (Fig. 3). Guy ropes of silk are attached to the cocoon at various points over the surface, and at the opposite ends fastened to the foliage. Thus the tiny basket swings secure amidst the most rigorous winter storm. Our mother-spider, indeed, might sing over her cradle the famous nursery rhyme : " ' Rock-a-by, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock.' •' However, there would be little likelihood in her case of such a melancholy conclusion as the lullaby has : " ' When the bough bends the cradle will fall, And down comes cradle, baby and all !' " You have doubtless heard of Indian wicker-work 30 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. water-vessels. I have seen a large woven bowl in which meats were boiled, the water having been heated by hot stones. They were perfectly water-tight. That is an admirable example of ingenuity in weaving ; but Bank Argiope has approached it. The outside of her cocoon is usually tough and glazed, and effectually repels moist- ure. I have opened many and never found the slightest evidence that rain or snow or sleet had made an entrance. It is a strong case of forecast, certainly, although I am not prepared to say that the forecast abides in the brain- cells of t'.: J mother aranead. At all events, mother-love has met the difficulties as if they had been antici- pated." " Perhaps," suggested Abby reverently, "we are here on the track of an infinite forecast ? How is the in- terior of the egg-sac furnished ?" " Suppose we look. We may devote this example to science and dissect it. As I open it Avith my knife, thus, you observe that the glaze lies upon the surface of a soft, yellow, silken plush, the whole forming the outer wall. Within that there is a mass of purple silk floss — raw silk, you might say — which evidently acts as a blanket- ing to the egg mass within. The eggs are yellow globules, sometimes several hundred in number, deposited under- neath a plate-like cushion, and swathed with a white silken sheet. Thus the young spiderlings are snugly blanketed and tucked away awaiting their deliverance from the nursery at the coming of spring." "But does the mother leave the little fellows there without any provison for them ?" THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR WINTER. U "■ Well, a spider, unlike true insects, docs not undergo transformation from a worm, through the chrysalid to the imago. It hatches out like a bird, and has no need to have stored within its cell a supply of nutrition as with voracious grubs. It can Avait until its exode, when it is able to spin its own web and provide for its own larder. Therefore, the mother shows a true forecast of the situation and wants of her offspring when slio fails to store food witliin the cocoon. Besides, there is a suspicion — though I am not prepared to affirm it — that the little ogres eat each other up, as necessity requires, an exigency of spider infancy which is provided for or against in the great number of eggs laid and young hatched out." " Dear me, what a situation that for tlie baby spider- lings 1 To be sliut within those inexorable walls and wait until one's turn comes to be served for dinner to one's sister or brother ! It is to be hoped that N'aturc has kindly made the little fellows unconscious of their destin}'. However, if one half is true that I hear of this human In'otherhood of ours, it is not so very unlike the spider's baby-house. The big brothers cat the little ones, and the monopolies swallow all !" "What! so young and already a cynic? But you mustn't let your moralizing blind your eyes to the facts of life all around you. Look into that bush that you are passing. I see there one of my special friends whom I want you to know. Do you find her ?" " You mean this pretty little cobweb ? But it is small and delicately wrought, and half hidden among 33 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 8. — SNARE AND EGG-SACS OF CAUDATA. the leaves. How could you see it from where you stand, eight or ten feet distant ?" (Fig. 8.) "Nothing marvelous in that. I caught the sheen oj the white web in the sunlight which fell upon it just at the right angle, and a glance was enough for recogni- tion. There is a multitude of spider webs that are re- vealed only thus, or on a dewy morning by the drops ol moisture entangled in them. Let me show you how I EiG. 9. — caudata's cucoons, with scalpagk. 33 34 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. recognized the species. Observe tliat a segment of the web is quite cut out at the top, througli the centre of which a thick Hue is stretched. Tliis peculiarity is caused by the httle niotlier {Gi/rtoplwra camlata) wlien she begins making lier cocoons. She cuts out tlie spirals, as you see, and in the clear space hangs a straw-colored, pear-shaped cocoon, no larger than a pea. At first it is a clean silken sac, but as the mother preys upon the small insects that fall into her snare, instead of casting out the dry shells, as is common, she hangs them upon her cocoon, which is soon decorated with gauze wings, shining black heads and bodies (Fig. 9) until the origi- nal color quite disappears. By-and-by a second cocoon is aClded ; a third and a fourth follow, and I once found a string of eight. Each cocoon is treated in the same manner, until, like a genuine savage of the genus homo, the tiny Amazon has decorated her home and her babies' homes with the scalps of her victims. Here she hangs on the hub of her snare, holding on to the lower part of her precious string of beads with a little white ribbon woven into the net beneath her. It was this ' scalpage' that enabled me to know my small acquaintance so readily." Leaving our aboriginal Caudata undisturbed in her wigwam to the full enjoyment of her cradles and scalps, we resumed our walk. Finding myself presently alone I turned and saw Abby intently peering into a pyramid of grasses which I had almost trodden under foot. ' ' Here is surely something of value, ' ' she cried. "At first 1 thought it was an egg-nest of Bank Argiope, but FIG. 10. — EGG-SAC OF THE BANDED ARGIOPE. 3fi 36 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. it is quite diftereut wlien I look closely. Maybe it is the work of a youug mother ? Ah ! I see by your smile that I have blundered. " "I was thinking of your last remark ; and, after all, Avhen I reflect, it is not so unnatural a conclusion. There is Caudata, who, after having made half a dozen cocoons, might be considered an 'experienced' mother. But Argiopc never makes but one. Her maternal love and energy center upon that single work, and then she dies. But upon the discovery itself I must congratu- late you ; it is a noble find — the cocoon of the Banded Argiope {Argiopefasciata) — which I have never met but once. And now, with a boast of clear-sightedness fresh upon my tongue, I have fairly run over this rare speci- men ! Well, it is not the first time that I have had illustration of the old adage : " ' A raw recruit, Perchance, may shoot Great Bonapakte !' You have proved yourself an apt recruit in the entomo- logical field, and have done good service. You have shown a true eye also, for this is not the egg-nest of lliparia, but of one of her congeners, the Banded Ar- giope (Fig. lU). Here she lies, or hangs rather, holding even in death, to the frail hammock of a few lines spun against the dry grasses. She is a beautiful creature, covered with a glossy silver-white fur coat, with bands of black and yellow across the abdomen, from which she gets her name. How fortunate ! here is another snare, spun in the weeds at the edge of the run !'' THE TENANTS PREPARING FOR WINTER. 37 FIG. 11.— SNARE OF ARGIOPE FASCIATA. "And here is a third," echoed Abby, "with the spider hanging at the centre." "Good! Now we can study the web, which is a very pretty object." (Fig. 11,) " It is quite hke the snare of Bank Argiope, Itliiiik — mine is at least ; but yours, how daintily the central nart has been decorated ! Why is that ?" 38 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 12. — DECOItATION OF FASCIATA. " I cannot speak with certainty. This snare, as you remarked, resembles tliat of Riparia, although the cen- tral shield is rarely so prominent, and the ' winding stair ' is less frequent. The decorations of which you speak ai'e more generally found on Fasciata's nest. They are semi-circular, zigzag ribbons and cords of silk spun in pairs or triplets on either side of the hub. Some- times they go quite around it (Fig. 12). They certainly give the snare a dainty appearance, but I imagine they are not for decoration — as the scalpage of Caudata really seems to be — but to strengthen the snare, and per- haps to form a sort of barricade to protect the owner from assault of enemies. I must collect this cocoon before we go further ; it may be long before I meet another specimen. There, dead mother and her future progeny are safely boxed, and we may walk on. CHAPTER lY. WINTER TENANTS OF OTTR TREES. The stream at this point entered the edge of the wood, cutting its way tlirough by a glen or ravine, on one side of which tlie land rose gradually, on the other rather abruptly. Both sides were covered with bushes and a young growth of trees, whose branches spread aliove the run, forming in summer time a dense shade, within which and the sliadow of the rocks that jutted into the stream grew numbers of tall ferns. " On the skirts of this wood," I said, " we should find cocoons and crysalids of the Lepidoptera — moths and butterflies— in abundance. Let us search these young oak trees. I dare say we shall see something interest- ing." I had already caught a view of several of the objects for which we were now looking — the winter tenants of our trees — but waited for my companion to obseiwe for herself. There is a special pleasure in the consciousness of original discovery, and a sense of per- sonal proprietorship which adds much to the interest with whicli the mind regai-ds things. One's own find- ings ai'e, therefore, the most fruitful in thought, and the best texts for instruction, I had not long to wait ; Abby's mind was quite intent upon the search, and soou 39 WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 41 c^^ FIG. 13 &. — LARVA OF POLYPHEMUS MOTH. lier keen eyes discerned the forms of several cocoons pendant among the branches of an oak. "I have them ! " slie cried. "Curious things they are, to be sure, and a curious storj-, no doubt, you have to tell about them." " Curiouhi, ccrtainl}-, to those who have thought little of such things ; and yet it is onh- a small chap- ter of a great book that lies open everywhere — open, but um'ead. Such things as I have to tell are curious only because people have not looked into the commonest facts around them. This is the cocoon of the Polyphe- mus moth (Fig. 13r). You observe how snugly the leaves have been tucked around it. Tenr them away and there appears a j-ellowii^h, oval, silken case, inside of which the pupa is stowed. The thread of which this 42 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAR 31 cocoon is spun is continu- ous, and easily unwound like that of the ordinary silk moth, Bomhijx, morl. It has a rich gloss, and high hopes have been entertained that it could find extensive use in commerce. A New England gentleman suc- ceeded in rearing the in- sects in large numlK-rs, so as to obtain wagon loads of cocoons. His 'plant' pre- sented a truly animated ap- pearance, with not less than a million worms feeding in the open air on bushes cov- ered with a net." " A sight more attractive to the entomologist, or silk-grower, I should think, than to the general public," remarked Abby. " Very likely, but I have observed that a dollar dis- cerned in the distance has a wonderful effect in bright- ening even a vista of caterpillars. Prospect of cash converts unreasonable sensibilities quite as quickly as a naturalist's enthusiasm. However, the general public has a deep interest in everything relating to silk culture, for although it may be a ' disgusting ' fact to some minds, yet it is a fact that we owe our most beautiful habiliments to the labor, pains, and eventually the FIG 13 C. — COCOON OF POLY- PHEMUS MOTH. WINTER TENANTt^ OF OUR TREES. 43 sacriticed life of the tUspiseU ^ilk-\vonll. Tlie larva of our Polyphemus moth is tliiek, lleshy, striped obliquely ■with white on the sides, wilh augulated segments or 'Joints,' on whieh are tuljercles surmounted by a few- soft hairs. They are hatehed about the close of June from eggs laid singly by the mother moth on the under sides of leaves. Ten or twelve days intervene between the deposit of the eggs and the hatching of the larva. " Then begins the feeding, which is not a simple eat- ing, but a storing of food that must sustain nature during' the long winter sleep, and in some cases, as with Cecropia, for example, during the life of the perfect in- sect when it has transformed. Not only that, but it must take in enough to supply the curious natural workshop within it with the crude material from which comes the silken fibre that furnishes its winter home. Those are busy days, therefore, for the young worm during the long summer. " But it has periods of rest from its voracious eating. Late in. the afternoon of a summer day, if y(ju would peep among the leafy barricades of these oak-boughs, you might see our worm undergoing the tedious process of shedding its own clothes, or moulting. As the grub grows, the outer skin tightens and hardens; since it cannot yield, and as the creature must grow while it eats, the only thing to be done is to get rid of the im- pediment. Therefore Dame Nature, like a careful nurse, strips the young Polyphemus and puts it aside to rest awhile. "Something analogous occurs to the human intellect 44 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. from time to time, although ' Bourbons ' and ' old fogies' are said to be exempt from the process of moulting. On the other hand, there are some men who have such marvelous facility at making an intellectual moult, that one hardly knows where to find them on great questions, " Our Polyphemus grub is content with five moults, ten days intervening between the first four, and twenty between the last two. During the intervals it resumes the serious duty of life — eating." " How many leaves can one larva eat ? " asked Abby. "It seems to me you must exaggerate its voracity, or its ravages would be more noticeable. Surely, the little creature within this case couldn't have been very for- midable as a gourmand." " Have you ever observed one at its meals ? No ? "Well, then, you have something yd to learn as to the proportions of a healthy appetite. The hungrj^ ' small boy ' is hardly to be named for gastronomic practice beside our Polyphemus, Mr, Trouvelot, a Massachu- setts observer, has determined that a grub fifty-six days old has attained 4140 times its original weight, a progress in avoirdupois which implies a corresponding vigor in table-fare. Or. to put it in another way, a full-grown larva has consumed not less than one hun- dred and twent}- oak-leaves, weighing three-fourths of a pound, besides the water which it has drunk. Thus the food which it has taken in fift3'-six days equals in weight eh/htji-six thoitsand times the primitive weight of the worm ! You may imagine the destruction of leaves WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TUBES. 45 •^SM/f FIG. 14. — DAME XATURE STRIPS TOUNG POLTpnEMUS FOR REST. which this sinp;lG species of insect could make if onl}' a hiindredth part of the eggs came to maturity. A few years would suflice for the propagation of a numher large enough to devour all the leaves of our forests." "But you have not told me yet how the caterpillar eats itself within this coeoon. I feel very much as the somewhat under-wise and stuttering King of England, George II., is said to have felt when he first saw an apple-dumpling. ' P-p-pray, wh-wh-where, where got the apple in ?' How got the pupa inside this case V" 46 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "You understcaiul, of course," I replied, "that this hard and apparently lifeless object (Fig. 15) which we call a pupa did nothing to inclose itself. The larva 'got' itself 'in,' and then be- came a pupa. A few days be- fore it had been seized b}' a strange restlessness ; it wandered about luieasily ; it refused to eat. What vision of its coming change had jSTature given the worm ? I believe human beings also are sometimes im2:)ressed in some such Avay before great crises. I have myself experienced, on the approach of such occasions, those indefinable, restless sensations which the moth larva seems to exhibit. Its first step toward forming a cocoon, after a site had been chosen, was to wrap the stem, as you see here, and lash it to the twig above. Then, sinking to this point, it gradually drew around it the adjacent leaves, making a tinj' arbor or cell, which j^ou observe is the framework of the cocoon. "Within this it began to spin, drawing its silken threads from point to point as it moved around the cell. Jjaycr succeeded layer, each overlapping its predecessor, until the grub was quite shut in, aiid. fmall}^ this silken case was completed. It then ceased work, and, yielding to the strange drows}' spell which Nature casts upon its kind, it fell into this FIG. 15. — PUPA OF POLYPHEMUS. WTXTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 47 pupal s^tate, wherein it will reinaiu until late in ]\Iay or earl}' June next, when it will emerge as a perfect insect." " Well, well," exclaimed Ahl)}- ; " it is an '•oft told tale,' hut it seems more wonderful to mc to-da}- than ever hefore. Of course it is a ridiculous foncy ; Init do you know I can't help wondering if the moth knows itself when it emerges ! I mean, does it have any recollection of its larval and pupal estate ? AVhat do you think? It's a foolish notion, I daresay !" " Xot at all ; others have had the same thought. But who can say ? Perhaps Avhen ve have passed through some such transformation, we may have more light on this and other of iSTature's mysteries ; hut until then we must he content to guess at the possihle expe- rience of a moth. All we can say is that the mother insect always comes to the tree, whether oak or maple, on which it was reared as a larva to deposit her eggs. Possihh' the ghost of a faint impression of the acrid flavor of oak-leaf may haunt the pairs of nervous ganglia that serve for hrains in a Polyphemus, and so may urge the creature to haunt its larval resorts. One would think, however, that all sense of its old person- ality had heen buried and left in this pupal sarcopha- gus. ]]ut then, again, who knows ? We might as Avell call the mental processes of both grub and imago instinct, and pass on." "I have another question," said the schoolma'am. "You see I am moved by ■»/// ancestral traditions, if the moth is not, and ask questions like a genuine WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 49 Yankee. "Where are tlie spiiminir organs of the larva ? The spider has hers, I know, at the apex of the abdomen, in several little mammals or sjMnnerets. How is it with the caterpillar?'' "The i)osition of the spinning organs is precisel}' reversed in the silk-worm. The silk glands consist of two long, flexuous, thick-walled sacs sitnatcd on the sides of the body, and opening by a common orifice on the nndcr-lip, or labium, usuall}^ at the end of a short tubular protuberance. They are most developed just when the)' are most needed — when the larva approaches the pupa state. And now, suppose we dismiss our Polyphemus and turn to others quite as " " Tliere, excuse me ; 3'ou have reminded me of some- thing I wanted to ask. Why is this moth called ' P0I3'- phemus ?' Is it such a horrible one-eyed ogre as the giant who handled so roughly the great Ulysses and his companions V "I am afraid that I cannot fully satisfy you until we return to the house and show you a figure of the insect — possibly not then, for scientific names are not always readily accounted for. But we shall have better oppor- tunity by-and-b)', as we walk homeward, to talk over this matter of scientific names. Meanwhile, let us ex- amine these elder-bushes along the fence-side. I hope to find an old friend — ah, there you have it, I see. It is the C'ecropia moth — Phiti/samia cccropia. It has nearly the same habits as the Polyphemus ; indeed, the story of that insect's life will stand, with a few varia- tions, for all. Elder, willow and maple are the favorite 50 TENANTS^ OF AN OLD FARM. food-trees of Cecropia — in onr neighborliood, at least. Ther^ is a clump of young spicewood trees, and j'ondei are some sassafras saplings. Let us examine them- What have _you found ?" " Here is a cluster of s(!ven or eight hanging neai together ! Thej^ are long, tapering cocoons, prettil}' rolled in leaves and hound to the twigs by beautifully wrapped silk. See, in this one the coil extends several inches up the stem and around the twig. What is the use of all this precaution ? "Wouldn't the insects come out on the ground quite as well '? Indeed, I should think that itAvould be colder up there exposed to wind, rain, hail, snow, and frost, than down among the drj- grass and leaves." " Tlie question of temperature hasn't so much to do with the matter, I imagine ; the pupa^ stand an intense degree of cold, even those of the butterflies (Fig. 17) which are usually naked. These have been kept in an ice-house for two years, and when removed to a warm place came out all right. Cold and damp weather retards the process of transformation ; but the cocoons do well enough on the ground where thej' fall, as man}' do ; althougli, on the whole, I think thcj' are better on the pj^^. -[~ -pv-pK of branches, certainly thevare safe there butterfly va- ' •' ~ NESS A. from the trampling feet of cattle.'" However, there are, no doubt, wise reasons for what j'ou iiave aptly styled all this precaution, some of wliich WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 51 I can suggest. For one thing, cocoons temper the rapid changes iu the atmospheric temperature. A long, steadily cold winter seems to be less destructive to the enclosed pupre than a very changeable one of a lower average temperature. Hence the value, in a cliangealile climate, of such cnswathmeuts as help to graduate tlie weatlier variations. Then, again, cocoons are of use in preventing the loss of moisture by pupce. For example, the pupa of a Ce- ci'oiiia or Polyphemus moth exposed to the atmospliere without its natural covering will, as a rule, dr}- up or produce an imago which will not have moisture enough in its tissues to properly expand its wings. Once more, cocoons conceal the inmates from their natural enemies. If they be noticed they are seen not to be edible, and tlie tough parchment enswathment protects from any but a deliberate and vigorous siege. Moreover, the odor of the pupa, by which man}* enemies would be attracted to it, is prol^abl}- largel}' confined within the cocoon b}^ their structure. You must take my suggestions with some allowance, how- ever. I confess that I am not in a position to be very positive upon this interesting query, Avhich involves some puzzling and seemingly inconsistent facts. But to return to our Cynthia cocoons, let me call your atten- tion again to the manner in which tiie larva has wrapped the leaf-stall^s entirel}' around and carried the windings clear up to the twig on which the leaves hang. One is almost led to think that the worm wrought with some knowledge that leaves liave tlie habit of dropping 53 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. from the trees, and secured itself against any such acci- dent by lashing the petiole tightly to the limb." "Well — but — surely, you don't thing that the worm really did know tlmi 1 " exclaimed Abby. As I did not venture upon an answer, somewhat fear- ing the questions that the quick-witted maiden might shower upon me, the schoolma'am dropped the matter and started another query. "Why should these cocoons be swung aloft in this fashion, instead of being tied directly to the limbs ? Does the pensile condition give them any special pro- tection ?" "That is partly, perhaps mainly, due to the peculiar character of a sassafras leaf-stalk, which you can readily observe. Yet I can suggest one probable advantage. Thei'e is a cousin-german of these speci- mens — Samia cyntliia — who usuall}^ builds upon the ailanthus tree, I have gathered a brood of twenty- three cocoons hanging upon a small branch. The ailanthus leaf, you know, falls early, and you may observe the cocoons (Fig. 18) pendant in clusters from the bare boughs of the trees along our city streets. 1 have seen the sparrows peeking at them, and was reminded of the days when I tried to gain health and muscle by a daily bojing-match with a sand-liag hung in the back yard. Of course the bag swung away at every blow, only to come back again. I never had any damage from the sand-l)ag, which, I suppose, was the main point ; l)ut, on the other hand, the sand-bag never got any damnge from me, simply liecause it FIG. 18. — CLUSTER OF CYXTIIIA COCOONS. 53 54 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. wouldn't stay to get it. That was precisely the case with the ailanthus cocooiis ; they gave way before the bills of the mischievous, chattering sparrows, who could, therefore, make no impression on them. Those cocoons were even more carefully attached than these of the Prometheus, the twigs on which they hung being wrapped for ten and twelve inches from the stem, which was also carefully bound al^out with a quite decided ribbon of fine yellowish white silk. The leaves and leaf-stalk were tightly wrapped to the twig, and thus all were carefully suspended aloft, where they hung through the entire Avinter. Now, I do not know from actual observation that the spar- rows wished to tear open the cocoon for the sake of the contents, but I have thought that, in early spring, at least, their motive may have been to get material for their nests." "Why should the sparrows wish to obtain the con- tents of a cocoon ?" asked Abby. " Could they eat the pupa ?" " That they could, for the pupa is little more than a mass of vital juices, contained within a not very tougli crust. I have said that I have no positive evidence to convict our English sparrows of preying upon the Cecropia pupte, but I cannot say as much for some other birds. There is at least one bird, the hairy woodpecker [Picus vUlosus Linn.), from whose beak the staunch cocoon of the Cecropin, offers no protection whatever. " I have noticed one of these birds, during the early WISTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. 55 FIG. 19. — THE sparrow's SPARHING PR ACTICE.— j/>. 52 months of winter, clinL'ing to a twig, pcckini; away at the parchmcnt-Uke covering of a cocoon attached thereto in a manner that amused me very much, and I was hugely enjoying its (as I supposed) vain attempts to penetrate it. But when it hopped to an adjoining limb, shook itself and exhibited the well-known natural 56 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. behavior of a bird that has just banqueted, I began to think its powers had been vastly underestimated. By the aid of a ladder the cocoon was obtained and found not only to have been punctured, but all the soft and liquid parts extracted. As there were other cocoons attached to the same tree which, upon examination, proved to be uninjured, I was led to believe the bird had found a weak part in the one which it had pene- trated. "After a few days another cocoon was found to be punctured, this time fairly upon the crown and appar- ently in the strongest part. I now saw what had before escaped my notice, viz. : that by the situation of the first cocoon it was accessible to the bird only from below, Avhicli accounted for the puncture being near its base, close to the twig. A short time afterward, on passing another tree, out from among the branches flew the little murderer, and, as usual, a pierced cocoon was found, the puncture yet wet with the juices of the pupa, showing that I had surprised the bird while at breakfast. "•In the month of January in the succeeding year, I again found the winged destroyers at work, and could easily distinguish the dry, rattling sound, the death knell of the beautiful moth, the larva of which seems to Ije as destructive to vegetation as the imago is innocent. So far as I have been able to observe, the birds do not attack these cocoons until winter, when other insect food is not so easily oljtainable. In fact, this seems to be a source of subsistence stored up for this WIXTER TENANTS OF OUli TREES. 57 season of the 3'ear, always fresh, and, to all api^oar- ancos, at all times available."* '■ But, even if we should acquit the sparrows of mur- derous intent in their assaults upon cocoons, we may fairly conjecture that they arc intluenced b};- desire to gather material for nest-building. "I have siiccimens of the nests of a Vireo taken in Fairinount Park, Avhich are largely constructed of silk stolen from cocoons and webs of spiders. One may imagine the vigorous but unavailing protests of tlie despoiled spinster against the rape of her fair silken yarns, but what could she do against the thieving birds ? Her stationar}' domicile and cocoon were far more exposed to the winged robbers than the oscillating house of the moth, pendant from the trees. '• But we have quite spent our hour afield. We will walk homeward through the ravine, and collect such specimens as we may on the way. I dare say Ave shall find enough material to supply a theme of conversation for a pleasant evening at home." " You promised to initiate me into the mysteries of scientific names Avhen we started homeward," said Abby ; " cannot your fulfill your promise now ?" "There is not much mystery in the matter," I replied, " and I shall have little difficulty, I think, in [* Among tlie many letters calletl out by the original chapters of ' ' The Tenants," as publishea in The Continent, was one from Jlr. F. M. Webster, Assistant Entomologist of the State of Illinois, who forwarded me the above facts concerning the hairy woodpecker, as observed by him, and printed in the American KatuniUst. Thej' are confirmatory of my allusion to the sparrows, and I here take the liberty of adding them to the Tenant's Experience.] 4 58 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. introducing so apt a candidate as yourself. The fact is, objects in natural histor}' are named precisely on the same principle that prevails in the liestowment of in- dividual names among men. An animal or plant has a (jeneric name that corresponds with the gens, sir, or family cognomen of a man, and a specific name that corresponds with his baptismal. Christian, or individual name. There is this ditlereneo, that the order of the names is reversed, the gens name of an animal being placed first instead of last. However, there are some nations, as the Hungarians and, I believe, also the Chinese, Avho follow the very order that naturalists have established ; and in our directories, ledgers and other lists of names w^e Americans do the same. Thus you might see your own gens or family name, Bradford, preceding your individual name Ahhji, and so on through all your clan. If you were to write such a list and a list of insects in opposite columns you would at once see the analogy, thus : " Bkadfokd, Abby, Arffiopc rijmria, Bkadford, Geokge, Avf/iojJc fasciata, Bkadfokd, Maky, Bomhyx mori, Bhadfoud, John, Tdca polypJianna. " That is a simple enough arrangement, and natur- alists invariably adhere to the rule to give only the two necessary names to one animal. Certainly, some of their titles are sufticicntly formidable (chiefly be- cause they are new to us), but you will now never see any nudtiplication of scientilic names upon one poor little creature such as many human l)abies are com- FIG. 20. — THE nAPE OF THE TARNS.— ?J. 57. 59 00 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. pelled to receive : Angdina Scraphima Celcstiana Jane- Eliza Brown ! In sooth, scientific noinenclatiire is not the greatest oftender in tl^e matter of long and sound- ing titles." " Where do the naturalists get their names ?" asked Abby, after heartily enjoying my sally, which her ex- perience with the names of her school-children enabled her to fully appreciate. "The rule is to derive the generic name from the CTreek, and the specific name from the Latin, or to con- vert the former into a Greek form and Latinize the latter. It is further the custom, which is not, how- ever, invariable, to construct the names from some marked characteristic of the animal. Take, for ex- ample, our spider friend Aryiope rqiaria. The generic name is taken from mytholog}-, after a fanc}' that long 2)revailed among naturalists, and which is especially marked in the science of astronomy, as you will see by recalling the names of the planets. Argiope {ApyioTty) was a Greek nymph, and the fancy of the ai'aneologist who created the genus led him to give her name to it. The specific name rijxiria was given l)y Hentz to our fine species, because he frequently found the creature along the banks of streams, and riparia is the Latin adjective that describes this fact. In the same way the other beautiful species was named Ai-ciiopc, of course, because she belongs to the same gens, and faficiata (Latin fur handed) because of the black bands or stripes laid over her silvery aljdomen. " Take the next examjile on our list ; the scientific WINTER TENANTS OF OUR TREES. Gl name of the silkworu is IJonibi/x uiori. The generic title is simply the Greek name for that insect [(ioufiv^, bonibi/x)^ which very properly is given to the gens of which it is the best known member. In other words, like distinguished sovereigns and citizens it es- tablished a ' house ' bearing its own name. The specilic name niori is the genitive case of the Latin word iiioruin^ a mulberry, and those who have ever fed silkworms can sec the reason for such a title for that individual member of the ' house ' of Bombyx. " j^ow as to 2^oli/pheiuus; its specitic name was probably given, as you guessed at first, because, at the time of its discovery, it was supposed to be the giant among the moths ; or, perhaps, because of the large eye Avhich marks each wing of the perfect insect. Specific names are often given in honor of naturalists or others whom the naturalist wishes to compliment. For instance, I might be pleased to name some spider or Inig after my friend Bradford, in which case I should Latinize the termination, and call it BroAlfordii^ or if after Miss Abby herself, Bradfordice^ perhaps, which is the female termination of the Latinized Bradfordius. Such are the general rules governing scientific nomencla- ture. There are exceptions and violations. But here we are at home !" " Thanks !" said the schoolma'am. " I see now what I never knew before, that in science, at least, there is much in a name." CHAPTER V. MOTHS AT TJIE FIKESIDE. "•There is a peculiar pleasure in tlic hearth when tlie first autumnal frosts call fur tires. That is, if one has an open grate or an old-fashioned fireplace. Modern stoves and furnaces have 1 VTrned all the poetry out of the songs and traditions of the ' fireside.' " It requires a more vivid imagination than ordinary mortals arc blessed with to throw the charm of ' ingle- side,' and all that, around a hole in the wall covered by an iron filagree gate through whose perforations a hot air-blast is puflftng. As to stoves, if we except the good old 'Franklin,' and all of that ilk, there is nothing to be said about or for them save that they do 'keep us warm.' " So the Mistress discoursed as Dan piled up the hick- ory-wood upon the great back-log already smoldering upon the sitting-room hearth. In the general repairs which the old formhouse had undergone this room was preserved from the intrusion of a coal-grate, and its cav- ernous depth dedicated to the ancient Lar of the and- iron and crane. Behold us, then, the entire Ilighwood family, seated before the first fire of the season, rejoicing in its genial light and Avarmth. The specimens gathered PIG. 21. — COCOON OF CECKOPIA MOTU. 63 64 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. in the morning walk are laid upon the table, together with divers books of reference. The Mistress, the schoolma'ani and myself have seats at the table ; Hugh Bond, the farmer, sits at the cliinuiey side ; at his feet sits his youngest boy, Harry, and opposite him are his son Joe, a stout lad of seventeen, and his daughter Jenny, a young woman of nineteen, who is established at Ilighwood as one of our handmaids. Old Uan, some- what more modestly, sits on a cricket at the side of the door that opens into the kitchen. In the days of Farmer Townes tlic I'oom in which we sit was the "living-room" of the family, the kitchen serving for the dining-room as well. We have made the hcai of the builder's plans, and converted it into a dining and sitting-room Jointly and severally. A snug and comfortable place it is, too, with its great wood fire roaring in the chimney ! We are a democratic company, observe, and why not ? for we are gathered for the study of natural sci- ence, and science knows no caste ; besides it is the good wife's doing, and came about in this wise : The advent of the master and schoolma'ani, as they entered the gate after their morning walk, with hands full of divers specimens and others fluttering from the master's hatband, had created quite a sensation at Highvvood. It was midday, the dinner-hour on an American farm, a custom come of descent doubtless from the European " dejeuner," with which meal, at least, both in character and time, as now served upon the Continent, it precisely corresponds. The entire MOTHS Al' THE FIRESIDE. 65 houseliold was thorefure uu the pivniiscs, and were all oil the alert to know what such strange procedui'c might portend. Dan shook his head signilieantly, and evidently considered it a natural outcropping of my mahidy. Sarah, the cook, thought that " yarbs " for medicine might be at the bottom of the business, until Hugh explained that something more than plants had been carried home. He had a faint glimmer of the facts, for some one had told him that his " boss used to be a great bug-hunter." Joe, Jenny and their little brother Harry, a bright twelve-year-old boy, with that strong sympatl.iy with nature which marks young IK'ople, were full of curiosity which (with Harry espe- cially) overllowed in a very freshet of questions. The Mistress had noted all these things as she moved back and forth, and at her request an invitation Avas carried to the whole domestic company to join the evening con- versation. All accepted heartily except Sarah, a middle- aged white woman, childless and a "grass-widow," who declared that she "didn't see no use in any sicli nonsense." Nevertheless, as she sat in the shadows beside the kitchen-stove she cast many surreptitious looks through the open door upon the group at the table, and kept a wide-open ear turned in the same direction. "Suppose you begin the conversation,'' said Abby, " by telling us the use of these cocoons. What ends do they serve in nature ? I was much interested in your statements this morning, and would like our circle to have the benciit of some of them at least." 66 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Very good. I will answer by first asking Bond a question : What is the use of the straw coverings which you Avere wrapping around the rose-bushes this morning V" "Why, sir," replied Hugh, smiling at such an apparently simple question, " that's plain enough. It saves the bushes from the frost." "But surely the frost gets through the straw at last, and the bushes must be quite as cold during winter as the outside atmosphere V" "Y-a-a-s," Hugh returned; "but then the straw kind o' tempers it, too. You see, the cold works in. gradual like, and allows the plant to git used to it. Besides that, I've been told that the bushes ' sweat ' jist like animals, and the heavy straw swathing keeps in that nateral warmth. Still, I don't know 'bout that. I reckon the rabbits has somethin' to do with the busi- ness, too ; leastways, I take in'etty good care to Avrap the lower parts a leetle closter. But, to tell the truth, sir, I never thought much about the why and wherefore. I puts a coat on the tender bushes pretty much as I puts one on myself" " Well, Hugh, you have given a good enough starting point for my answer. The cocoons, like the straw wraps, temper the rapid changes in the atmosphere. A long, steady Avinier seems to be less destructive to the inclosed pupa than a vei\y changeable one of a higher average temperature. Hence the vakie, in a change- able climate, of such wraps as help to graduate the weather variations. Here now is this Cecropia cocoon. m FIG, 22. — CECROPIA COCOON PAKTLY DISSECTED 67 68 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAR3f. (Fig. 21), I strip aside tlie leafy covering, and expose a stift", parchment-lili;e case, as waterproof as a ruljber- coat. Inside, you see an egg-shaped olj^^ject, completely covered with a thick blanketing of tlossy silk. (Fig. '22). The silk overlays a second parchment case, which I cut away, and come to the baby moth, tucked in its cradle, sound asleep. This is what we call the pupa. There it is !" The whole party had eagerly watched the progress of the scissors as I dissected the cocoon, and the young people had become so mucli interested that they left their seats at the fireside, and approached the table. " Dear me !" said the Mistress, laughing, " that quite equals the care which German mothers give their babies in Avinter. I have seen them lying upon a feather bed, and another bed of eider down or feathers laid upon them as a covering. Their rosy little fat faces peeped out of their knit woolen caps, and showed pink and chubby like a premium peach in a bunch of cotton. " "I wonder," said Abby, "if the Indian mothers didn't get their style of wrapping up their papooses from the Cecropia moth ?" " AVho knows ? Dame Nature has given many a good hint to men, and the squaws might have gone further and fared worse. But to proceed with our lesson : here is one of Harry's contributions. He dug it out of the potato-field for me this afternoon. I didn't give him the name of the baby insect, or I fear that he would not have been so friendly toward the ' poor wee thing, ' for it is an old acquaintance — ' the potato-worm.' " MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDE. 69 V .r" ■'■■' 7f^'^<^'Afr>^ ^\ FIG. 23. — THE POTATO-WORM LARVA OF S. QUINQUE-MACULATA. " Hi !" cried Dan, sitting bolt npright on his cricket, " (loan' mean ter say, Mars Ma3'fieP, dat tlaVs do nas'j^ big green catnmpilTr 't eats de later wines V 'Taint nothin' like it, shore !'' "Yes, Dan, this is the potato-worm, the tomato- worm, or the tobacco-worm, just as you choose to call it. You all know it — a large green caterpillar, with a kindof thoiMi on the tail, and oblique, whitish stripes on the .side of the bod}'. It grows to the thickness of the fore-fmger, and the length of three inches or more (Fig. 23). It comes to its full size from the middle of August to the first of September, then crawls down the stem of the plant, and buries itself in the ground. 70 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. There, in a few da}\s, it throws off its caterpillar skin, and becomes this bright brown crysalis," (Fig. 24), "If you please, Mars Mayfiel'," interrupted Dan, " whar's de 'coon ? Dat's no 'coon at all ; I 'speck FIG. 34. — rUPA OF POTATO-MOTH. Harry's done shucked it, and I'd like powerful well to know all 'Ijout dat tater-worm." "I didn't neither!" answered narr3', warmly. " That's all there was of it ; Mr. Mayfleld stood by while I dug, and knows it's so." "Quite true, Harry; but, Dan, can you tell why Bond don't wrap up the roots of his bushes in straw, as well as the branches ?" " Why, Mars Mayfiel', 'v course de ground keeps de roots warm widout de straw." " Precisely ; and so it is with the crysalis. As the larva goes into the ground, to ' transform,' as we say, instead of hanging on the tree like this Cecropia, it has less need of the protection of a cocoon. Although Ave shall see by-and-by, that crysalids can get on very well, even when hanging naked on the trees. "But look at this," said Abby, pointing to the long, stem-like appendage at one end of the crysalis. " Your crysalis must have been suspended to the trees at some MO Til Si AT THE FIRESIDE. 71 timo, for hoiv is llic vciy stem l)y which it luiiig, just like those of tlie Polyphemus aud Cyuthia niotlis/' Thereupon she handed the oljject to the mistress, Avho examined it carefully. "Why, father," she remarked, "I fear that Alihy lias caught j^ou napping this time." " That is right," I answered. " I am glad that yout minds are alert and not disposed to take too nuich Avithout question. Let the crysalis pass amund the circle, and then I will show you the imago or perfect insect. Here is a figure of our potato-worm full Hedged. A fine large moth it is, you see. It has dropped its humhle name now and is known as Sphinx qninipw-nvi- cidahi, or, in plain English, the Five-spotted Sphinx." (Fig. 25.) "Well, well," said the Mistress, a little impatiently. "What has that to do with this 'stem' that we were talking about ?" "Patience, my dear, I am coming to that; hut I want you, first, to see the insect's tongue. Come, Abby, you have the first look ; do you see the tongue V" " iSTot I ! aud it's not to be seen, for the back of the moth is toward us." "Then let the others try." All studied the picture and came to the same conclu- sion — no tongue was to be seen, " I nnist put spectacles oh }'^our eyes, I find. You see this long, delicate, curled organ rising out of the head and extended over the flower into which it is about to be thrust ? — this is the insect's tongue," }rOTIl!^ AT THE FIRESIDE. 73 " TlKit the tongue V "The tongue?" " The tongue !" So the quer\' and exclamation ran from one to an- other, or, rather, rose from all in chorus. "Yes," I answered, " that is the tongue, and ISfadam Sphinx certainly can't complain of its brevity. Here, now, is where your 'stem' comes in. The long, slen- der object which j-ou mistook for the coi'd by which a cocoon hangs is a tonyuc-aiKC. It is bent over, as you see, from the head so as to touch the breast only at tlie end, causing the cr3'salis somewhat to resemble a pitcher." My discourse was here interrupted by an unctuous roll of laughter proceeding from the kitchen door, " Ho, ho, ho !" All eyes were turned upon Dan, Avho was rocking back and forth upon his stool, in au ecstac}- of merri- ment. Soon the entire group was laughing in pure sympathy, for no one had suspected the cause of Dan's mirth. " Beg pardon, Mars Mayllel'," he said, at length. "I done forgot my manners, dat's a fac' ; but it come over me so sudden ! I'se jes' thinkin' dat ef all de long- tongued folkses could git dat kin' uv a spectakle-case to stow away dar tongues in, 't would be mighty handy round our kitchen o' nights ! Dar's Sarej' Ann, now, " Another outbreak of heart}^ laughter interrupted Dan's remarks, the point of which every one appre- 74 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ciated ; for, with all her excellencies, our cook carried a sharp tongue, and was prone to use it freely, as Dan had more than once complained, upon " de kitchen folks." "Dan Davis," cried a wrathful voice from out the shadows of the kitchen, "you'd hetter curl up a rod or two of your own tongue, I reckon." Dan hitched his cricket around, half rose, and looked into the kitchen. " 'Fore goodness sake, Sarey Ann, I nebber s'posed you's a Icstenin' to our nonsenses 'bout the bugs. Hi den ! You've been keepiu' the lef year open all de time ?" "Sit down, Dan," I said. "I'll intercede for you with Sarah, although j'ou certainly deserve a little tongue -lashing this time. Let us get back to our crysalis. It remains in the ground through the winter, below the reach of frost, and in the following spring the crysalis-skiu bursts open, the largo moth crawls out of it, comes to the surface of the ground, and, mounting upon some neighl)oring plant, waits until the approach of evening invites it to expand its untried wings and fly in search of food, which it sucks from the flowers by means of its tongue. The tongue can be unrolled to the length of five or six inches, but, when not in use, is coiled like a watch-spring, and is almost entirely con- cealed between two large and thick feelers, under the head. The moth measures across the wings about five inches ; is of a gray color, variegated with blackish lines and bands, and on each side of the body there are five round, or rectangular, orange-colored spots en- MOTHS AT THE FIRESIDE. 75 circled with Ijlack. These are the markings tliat liave given it the name of the Five-spotted Sphinx." "Wliy should it be called a sphinx at all ?" asked Abby. " The larva, when disturbed, has the habit of raising its head aloft and curving several of the first segments of the body (see Fig. 23). The fancied resemblance of this attitude to the Egyptian Sphinx has suggested its scientific name." "That is very good," said the Mistress, "very good, indeed, and I am sure that it will help me to rememl)er what you have said. Is that what has been called a scientific use of the imagination ? If so, I suppose w^e might complete the fancy, and think of the fixmous 'Riddle of the Sphinx,' as the continuall}' repeated question of the farmers, ' What be them worms made for, anyhow ?' " " Are not these large moths very rare insects ?" asked Abby. " I don't remember ever to have seen one." " On the contrary, they are quite common," I replied. " You will find them even within the city limits, where the}' feed on the Jimson (Jamestown) weed, which grows abundantly on vacant lots. But they are night- feeders, keeping close under the cover of the leaves and branches during the day, and only fiying abroad after nightfall. For this reason we rarel}^ see them. You have seeu tlie small species of moths fluttering around the lights on a summer evening, but the lai'ge species do not often venture through the windows. The fact is, there is a night-world of all sorts of creatures living 76 .VOTIIS AT THE FIRESIDE. 77 close around lus, little kuowu by most men, iuul, indeed, their presence little suspected." "It's a mighty good thing," remarked Dan, " dat dem mo'hvs doan tiy inter de winders often." He placed his elbows on his knees, leaned for\vard, rested his chin upon his fists, shook his head oracularly, and assumed a very solemn air. " No, it ain't bes', noways, to have too much to do wid dem critters. Dar was my brudder Wash, 'fore I cum up from ole Mar3lau' ; de berry week 'fore he died one ob dese big mo'hvs flew inter de winder, flickered aroun' tie candle, and 'fore we know'd brushed it right out. Dar we Avur, all in the dark ; an' I tell you, a fearder set there never was. I 'member dat night to dis day ! We knowed we was warned, an' dat some 'v us mus' go. But which V— Good Lor', dat was de question 1 Shore 'uough, a week arter dat. Wash was taken sick an' died. He knowed he had to go w'eu he was tuk, an' Jis lay down and kin' o' faded out. Xo ! It doan do to have too nuich to do wid dem mo'hvs. " An' dat ain't all," continued the venerable servant, perceiving that we were all encouraging him to continue his discourse. " Dat ain't all, needer. Dar's one ob dem mo'hvs dat goes flyin' roun' wid a reg'lar raw- head-and-bloody-bones on it, like de pirate flag ob Cap- tain Kidd. Dey calls it de ' Death's-Head Mohf,' or somethin' like that " " Did you ever see one, Dan '?" I asked, interrupting him. The old man started, spread his open palms upward, 78 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. rolled Ills eyes, shook his head, and, with a voice that almost trembled with fear, replied : " See one, did you say ? Doan nebljer ask dat ques- tion, Mars MayfieP. Ob course, I uebber did ! De good Lor' 'n mercy forbid dat ! Amen. Why, it's all a man's life's worth to see a Death's-Head Mohf. Mor' 'n dat " — here he lowered his voice to a deep whisper — " dey do say dat the good Lor' He nebber made dat critter at all ! De ebil sperrits — de berry ole debbil heself — 'ceived de idee, an' fabricated dat ting in de darkest night ob de year. Doan tell me ! I doan want to see no sec7i doin's. Doan you show me dem picters, needer. No good luck '11 ebber come from paintin' dem tings. How d'ye suppose de man dat drawed 'em ebber libbed to do it widout some powerful conjurin' and cahoots Avid de ebil sperrits ? Dar's bad work about dem books, I'se afeared." He pointed to the work on natural history that lay on the table, open at a page whereon several moths were tigured. "An' that's as true as preachin' !" It was Sarah's voice that broke the silence that fol- lowed Dan's discourse, Avhich found credulous hearers among a good majority of ovir company. The cook had gradually hitched her chair nearer and nearer to the door, until, quite unable to withstand the fascination of Dan's superstitious remarks, as he lowered his voice she rose from her seat and now stood in the doorway. Her face was flushed with excitement, was wrought up into an expression of terror, and as she spoke she stretched out her arms like a prophetess. EIQ. 27. — THE SUADOW OF A MOTH. — p. 77. 79 80 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "Dan never said truer words, though he isn't over- stocked with sense, for thiit matter. There's Ijad luck in them moths any way you take 'em. I never 'low a caterpillar to git into the house, and I wouldn't for the world. I tell you, I run for the broom quicker when I see one a-coming. Why, if it spins its nasty cocoon in the house it's a sure sign that death'U come, and no tellin' who'll be taken. If it gits in your clothes- press, or anywhere, and spins on your dress, it's a certain warnin' that you'll wear a shroud before the year's out. I've heerd that often, and jest know it's true, I don't like all them things that Mr. Maytield has brought into the house, an' I told 'ini so, too ! There, I've said my say !" Whereupon the good woman again retired to the shade of the kitchen-stove. I glanced around the circle, and observed that the countenances of my little audience showed varied emo- tions. A mingled expression of amusement and disap- proljation sat upon the fiicc of the Mistress ; evidently her ideas of domestic discipline had received somewhat of a shock. Abby could scarcely suppress the laughter that played around her lips. As for the rest, they looked perplexed and sober, and it was easily seen that the superstitions of Dan and Sarah had disturbed them. Of course, I could not let the matter pass without some explanation, and, as though divining my purpose, the mistress disposed of Sarah by sending her into the cel- lar for cider and apples, "We have been very fortunate this evening," I JfOTIlS AT THE FIRESIDE. 81 began, "in having living examples of the queer no- tions whieh many people have formed about these poor moths. C)f course, they are mere sui)erstitions, and very absurd. You needn't shake your head, Dan, it is quite true ; I shan't try to straighten out such an old fellow as you, but we mustn't let these young people fall into any such foolish beliefs. In earlier times people knew so little about natural history, and were so lilled with superstition generally, that they conceived all manner of ridiculous ideas of the living things around them, and their relations to man and his des- tiny. We have learned better uoav ; we know these birds, and beasts, and creeping things quite well ; for naturalists have studied their habits, and have inter- preted, in a simple and natural way, many of the strange sounds and sights that lilled our forefathers with awe. Let us dismiss all such idle fancies." " But what is this story of Dan's, about the Death's- Head Moth ?" asked Abby. " I have heard something of that kind before." "Here is the insect," I answered, turning to a ligurc in the book before us. " These white markings on a dark thorax certainly have a striking resemblance to a skull and cross-bones, and this has given the insect its name {Achcrontia atropos) ; but, like all similar resem- blances, it is simply one of the accidents of Nature. It is a European luoth, and Dan very accurately illustrates the feelings with which it was formerly, and, indeed, is now, regarded by many people. Latreille informs us that the sudden appearance of these insects in a cer- 82 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 38. — death's head moth and larva. tain district of France, while tlie people were suffering from an epidemic disease, was considered by many per- sons the cause of the visitation. There is a quaint superstition in England that the Death' s-Head Moth has been very common in Whitehall ever since the ' martyrdom ' of Charles I. "The insect is widely distributed. I have seen fine specimens from Germany, Africa, and Asia, in the col- lections of Mr. Titian Peale and the American Euto- MOTHS AT THE FIRJ^SIDE. 83 mological Society. (Fig. 28.) It is a. fine insect, perhaps the largest in Europe — the spread of wing sometimes reaching six inclies. The larva is enor- mously large, sometimes live inches in length, and, like our Five-spotted .Sphinx, feeds upon the potato- plant. The jessamine is also a favorite food-plant. But here is Sarah, with sweet cider and apples, and I see that Jenny is bringing us some cake. Suppose we give ourselves a short recess, in order to enjoy the refreshment." CHAPTER VI. FELLIONELLA AN1> POMONELLA — A CnRONICLE OF "OLD CLO'S" AND WINDFALLS. " Permit me to acid my contribution to tlic museum," said tlie Mistress, entering tlie room. She bore in her hands a rug, wliich she hung over the back of a chair close to the Hght. The little napless patches showing here and there like islands in an ocean, revealed the presence of that enemy of the housewife, the clothes- moth. "Ah! here we have something interesting," I ex- claimed. " Tliere is no one of all the Lepidoptera whose hal)its better repay study than this little fellow." "What a pity," interrupted the Mistress, "that so many very interesting people and things in this world have the misfortune to be such miserable transgressors ! Now, here are these little w'retches who play such havoc Avitli ovn' carpets, furs and cloths, so attractive in their characters that you natural philosophers all go otf into enthusiasm over them. How do you account for such a seeming contradiction '?" " I allow that the little fellows are great rogues, and suppose it must be Nature's av ay to reconcile us to their mischief by bestowing upon them such cunning habits. 84 FIG. 29. — TIIK MISTUESS'S COXTRIBOTTON 85 86 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Besides, what right have we to complain ? We slaughter birds and beasts for feathers and furs ; we kill the silk- moth to get us a gown, and then think it hard if this poor worm makes a few raids for food and clothing upon our stolen finerj^ ! No, no ! we must be just, at least. However, let us look at this rug closely, and I think we shall conclude that we have been well repaid for all our loss here. " There are several species of moths similar in habits, whose caterpillars feed upon animal sulxstances, such as furs, woolens, silk and leather. Moreover, they are dreadful depredators in the naturalist's cabinet, devour- ing his specimens remorselessly, so that you see I have had occasion to practice the toleration and charity which I preach. And why not ? The creatures are only fulfilling the mission imposed upon them by the great Author of their being— to purify the world of its dead tissues. " You might add to their virtues," suggested Abby, sarcastically, " the fact that they contribute largely to increase the stock of the ' old clo's ' merchant, and thus confer indirectly a favor on the poor by cheapening clothing." "Thank you!" I replied. "Any championship is welcome to a losing side, and many a true wox-d has been spoken in jest." "These moths belong to a family named Tinea by entomologists, such as the tapestry moth [Tinea tapet- zdln)^ the fur-moth {Tinea p ell! on ell a), cabinet-moth {Thiea destructor), and clothes-moth {Tinea irstianella). PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 87 The species which luvs been at work upon this rag is probably Pellionella, tlie only ' clothes-moth ' known in the United States the larva of which constructs a case for its occuiiancy. "The moths themselves are very small, expanding their wings not more than eight-tenths of an inch. Tlie}'^ are thns well fitted for making their way through minute holes and chinks. If they cannot find such a tiny avenue into wardrobe or bureau, or fail of the opportunity of an open drawer or door, they will con- trive to glide through the keyhole. Once in, it is no easy matter to dislodge them, for they are exceedingly agile vermin, and escape out of sight in a moment. The mother-insect deposits her eggs on or near such material as will be best adapted for the food of the young, taking care to distribute them so that there may be a plentiful supply and enough of room for each." "Isn't that a bit of pure maliciousness?" queried the Mistiness. "The mother, I suppose, scatters her eggs so that her ravenous caterpillars may do all the damage possible by attacking many parts of a garment at the same time." " That is a bit of pure maternal instinct," I answered. "The mother-moth wisely arranges that all her off- spring shall have a fair outset in life — enough to eat and wear. When one of this scattered family issues from the egg its first care is to provide itself with a domicile, or, if you please, a dress. It belongs to that class of caterpillars that feed imder cover. I once placed one upon a desk covered with green cloth and 88 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM set myself to watch it. It wandered about for half a day before it began operations. At last, having pitched upon a proper site, it cut out a filament very near the cloth, in order, I suppose, to liave it as long as possible, and placed it on a line with its body. It then immedi- ately cut another, and placing it parallel with the first, bound l)oth together with a few threads of its own siik. The same process was repeated with other hairs, till the little creature had made a fabric of some thickness, and this it went on to extend till it was large enough to cover its body. Its body, by-the-way, as is usual with caterpillars, is employed as a model and measure for regulating its operations." " That's a very human trait," said the Mistress ; "my mother invariably used part of her body as a yard- stick, measuring light material with outstretched arms, or with one full-length arm, counting from chin to fingers." "Mother Bond does that still," ventm-ed Harry. " Ah, well," T said, " perhaps by-and-by we may find some starting-points for a bond of sympathy between the ladies and even a clothes-moth ! But to proceed. My caterpillar made choice of longer hairs for the out- side than for the inside, and the covering w^as at last finished within by a fine and closely woven tapestry of silk. I could only see the progress of its work by look- ing into the opening at either of the ends, for the cov- ering was quite opaque and concealed the larva. In weaving this lining the creature tuims around by doubling itself and bringing its head where the tail had PELLIONELLA AND PO}fONKLLA. 89 ;^-i^fc FIG. 30.— A CASE OF " OLD CLO'S " AXD CHARITY.—;;. 86. been, the interior being left just wide enougli fur this purpose, "Its dress being in this way complete, the body quite covered, the larva begins to feed on the material of the cloth, which you see is its ' bed and board ' and ward- robe besides. Soon, like a growing boy, our young Pel- lionella outgrows its clothes. As it has no father's or big brother's worn suits to furni-h material, and no 6 90 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. mother who has learned the art of Burns' Scotch Cotter who ' gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new,' it proceeds to enlarge its own garments. It sets to work as dexterously as any tailor, slitting the coat or case on the two opposite sides, and then adroitly inserting be- tween them two pieces of the requisite ?ize. It man- ages all this so as not to expo^se its body, never slitting the whole length of the coat at once." " Why," exclaimed Abby, " the worm has learned the mystery of a (jore I Here is certainly a fair beginning for that bond of sympathy of which you spoke be- tween the clothes-moth and the dretssmakiug part of womanhood !" " Shall we congratulate the moth or the niantua- maker on the connection V I asked. "Keally, I am not quite so sure with an answer as I would have been a few moments ago. My re- spect for the little wretches has va.'^tly increased. I don't know how I shall muster courage to kill them hereafter I" " By taking advantage of this pecular genius for patching," I continued, " or for gores., as Abby puts it, clothes-moths have been forced to make their tubular coats of divers colors and patterns. By shifting the caterpillar from one colored cloth to another the re- quired tints are produced, and the pattern is gained by watching the creature at work, and transferring it at the proper time. For example, a half-grown caterijillar may be placed upon a piece of bright green cloth. After it has made its tuibe, it may be shifted to a black PELLIONELLA AND POMONELLA. 91 cloth, and wheu it has cut the longitudinal slit and has tilled it up, it can be transferred to a piece of scarlet cloth, so that the complementary colors of green and scarlet are brought into juxtaposition and ' thrown out ' by the contrast with the black. In this way the little Avorm, by friendly human manipulation, may by-aud-by tiud itself arrayed, like the favorite son of Jacob, in 'a coat of many colors.' "The moth-worms pass the summer within these silk-lined rolls, some carrying them about as they move along, and otliers fastening them to the substance they are eating. Concealed within these movable cases, or lint-covered burrows, they ply their sharj) reaping-hooks amid the harvest of napery throughout the summer. In the fall they cease eating, make fast their habita- tions, and lie torpid during winter. Early in spring they change to crysalids within their cases, and in about twenty days thereafter are transformed to winged moths, which fly about in the evening until they have paired and are ready to lay eggs, " We are indebted to the Mistress for another contri- bution to our collection," I continued, picking up an apple from the dish, " This little brown hole in the side of our noble fruit suggests the story of a life. Do you know Avhat made this opening, Joe ':"' " Oh, yes, sir," was the ready response, " it is where an apple-worm got in, and you'll find it at the core." "Partly right and partly wrong. The apple-worm did make the hole, but this is not where it entered the fruit, and we shall not be likely to find it inside, al- 92 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 31. — BURKOW OF APl'LE-WOKM. though it i« Just possible that we may. However, let us cut the apple iu half and see. Here, you observe, is a little burrow curving through the core between the eye (Fig. 31) and the hole in the skin, and Ijranching oft' at the center, piercing the apple again at a point above. The worm that ate out this bur- row is the caterpillar of the codling-moth, Carpocapsa pomo- nclla. It is a small insect, its wings expanding three-fourths of an inch ; they have the ap- pearance of brown v/atered silk, and on the hinder margin of each of the forewings is a large oval brown spot, edged with copper-color. The hind- wings and abdomen have the lusti'c of satin." "Why is it called the cocZ^JHy-moth ?" asked the Mistress. "Suppose Ave refer that to the Schoohna'am," I answered. "Suppose we refer it to the dictionary," said Abby, taking down the book from the shelf. "Here it is" : " ' Co(7im, or eodlivg'' — spelled with one r?, by-the- way — ' An immature apple.' And here are uses of the word, one by Shakespeare : ' A codling when 'tis al- most an apple ;' and one by King, ' In cream and cod- lings reveling with delight.' I confess that is quite new to me. My notions of the word savored chietl}' of FKLLIONELLA AND POMONELLA, 93 our New England staple, codfish — codling, a young cod. What a useful book a dictionary is !" " Yes, when one has learned the art of using it. Had you looked further you would probably have found that cod is an old word for pod. An apple is simply an edi- ble pod, the case that contains the seed of a tree. Now we may get back to our story. " Pomonella is an immigrant, not a native American ; she was imported to this country about the beginning of this century, and has so well improved her time and opportunities that her progeny may be found in nearly the whole of North America." " Whence did she come ?" asked Abby. " From Europe, directly, at least, to us." "There! I am glad to learn that," returned the Schoolma'am, " T shall make good use of the fact when I next hear of America's viciousness in sending the Colorado potato-beetle to England." "Well," said the Mistress, " didn't we send the potato first ? Surely, our cousins should share with us the entomological ' trimmings.' " "All of which," I resumed, " would scarcely recom- pense our apple-growers for great loss inflicted upon their orchards. There are two broods of insects every year. The early brood appears about the time of apple- blossoms, having spent the winter in the larval state. In spring the larvre change into brown crysalids ; shortly after, the moths appear. The female moths seek the young fruit just as it is forming, and deposit their tiny yellow eggs in the calyx or eye, that is, the 94 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. blossom end of the apple. Only one egg is laid on each apple, hnt as the mother has about fifty eggs to dispose of, you may suppose that a few wide-awake and healthy females can make sad havoc with a crop." " Ain't the same apples visited by more'n one moth ?" asked Hugh. " Sometimes two worms will be found in one apple ; Init this is quite rare, and the fact commonly illustrates the force and wisdom of the maternal instinct that directs the moth. " The eggs l)cgin to hatch in about a week after they are laid, and the little caterpillars produced from them imniodiatcly burrow into the apples, making their way gradually from the eye toward the core. The caterpil- lar is of a whitish color ; its head is heart-shaped and black ; the top of the first ring or collar and of the last ring is also black, and there are eight little blackish dots or warts arranged in pairs on each of the other rings. As the larva grows the body becomes flesh- colored, the black parts turn brown, and the dots dis- appear. In the course of three weeks, or a little more, it comes to full size, and meanwhile has burrowed to the core and through the apple in various directions. The larva is so small at first that its presence can only be detected by the brownish powder that it pushes out in eating its way through the e5a\ This is made up of the ' castings ' or exuvife of the worm, and is a sure sign of infected fruit, as it often clings to the apple." " True enough !" exclaimed Hugh. "I've often seed PELLIONELLA AND POM ON ELLA. 0") them r e d d U h - h r o \v n gUcains on worm-eaten apples, but never know 'd w'at it was. But w'at's the idee in dumpin' 'em out this a- way ?" " Simjily a wish to get rid of the refuse. Our cater- pillar is a very tidy housekeeper, and cleans its little habitation with a zeal that the ladies at least will commend. As it grows older it enlarges its quarters to suit its increased size, and gener- ally makes a second opening or door through the FIG. 32. — COCOON, PUPA, FEMALE AND sule ot the apple, larva of the codling moth, and out of which fraw- a parasitic ichneumon-fly. 96 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ments of food are cast. The effect of all ■ these opera- tions is to ripen the apple before its time, and hence we have what are known as 'wind-falls,' although the wind is not necessary to l)ring down the precocious fruit, for it tumbles in the stillest weather. These worm-eaten apples are gathered up by basketfuls, and are among the earliest brought to our markets." " That is so," said Hugh ; " and, now I think of it, we get such good prices for these early wind-falls that I doubt whether the apple-worm does as much harm as I\l thought. Many's the hard word I've said agin the little beggars, an' I reckon I'll take some of 'em back." "What has become of the worm?" asked Abb}-, who had been carefully picking out the burrows in the cut apple. "There is certainly no trace of larva or crysalis here." " True, and for a quite suflficient reason. When the apples drop, and sometimes while they ai'c still hang- ing, our codlings escape through the opening in the side (Fig. 32) and creep into chinks in the bark of the trees, or into other sheltered places, which they hollow out with their teeth to suit their shape. Here each one spins for itself a cocoon or silken case as thin, delicate!', and white as tissue paper. This is disguised or pro- tected on the outside by attaching to silky threads small fragments of the bark of the tree or other available particles. (Fig. .32.) "Three days after the completion of the cocoon the larva changes to a crysalis. The pupa is a pale yellow PELLIONELLA AND P03WNELLA. 97 color at first, which deepens in a day or two to pale brown. Two weeks thereafter the transformation is complete, and the imago or perfect moth escapes. This event occurs about the middle or latter part of July. Then follows the wedding-day, and in a few days more the female begins to deposit her eggs for the late brood of larvre, the late apples being generally selected for this purpose. These larva) mature during the autumn or early winter months. Sometimes they crawl out or swing themselves out before the apples are gathered, in which case they seek some sheltered nook under the loose l>ark of a tree, or other convenient hiding-place. But if carried with the fruit into the cellar, they of course spin their cocoons upon the boxes, bins, barrels, or walls." " I have it now !" exclaimed Hugh, abruptly. " Beg your pardon, sir, but I'd l)een tryin' to think, w'ile you was lellin' about them cocoons, w'ere I'd seen sich ob- jecks, 'n I jest hapitcned to remember. I.as' winter I found hundreds of 'em spun up Ijetwixt the staves and hoops of the apple bar'ls. I noticed 'em as a cur'us thing, but didn't know w'at to make of 'em, and never tho't of 'em ag'in until now. Them was apple-worms ; I'm sure of it now." "I have no doubt of it, Hugh; and you provided tliem with snug winter-quarters, and then allowed them to escape, to come out last spring l)y companies to infest the apples. But you'll know better another time, I dare say." "That I will, sir; aiid I'll pass the hint around 98 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. among my neighbors, too. There's a worm that bores into the pears, pretty much in the same way as the apples. Is that the same varmint ?'' " Yes ; the apple-worm is very destructive to the pear, and is also found on the wild crab, and occasion- ally on the plum and peach. And now I believe that I have finished the story of Pomonella and how she punctures our apples." "A vei-y pretty tale it is, too," said Abby, looking up with a bright smile, " One of my classes was read- ing yesterday the legend of William Tell and the Apple, and I have just been wondering whether some of oiir myth-hunting critics and historians might not find the origin of that favorite story in the adventures of a codling-moth ! I can fancy the mother Pomonella personating the tyrant Gessler, and imposing upon our Caterpillar — the William Tell of Insect-world, you know — the destiny of forever piercing apples !" "But what will you have to represent the Switzer's little boy ?" I asked. "Oh, the apple-bough, of course; and how nicel}' the idea of youth's immature age harmonizes with our definition of a 'codling' — the punctured, immature fruit!" "At all events," said the Mistress, when the laugh at Abby's sally had ceased, "your mothical Tell main- tains the legendary hero's reputation for archery. It rarely fails to ' bring down ' the apple. But, reallv, I didn't know that our schoolmistress had such a genius for the so-called ' higher criticism !' " FELLIONELLA A^^D POMONELLA. 99 ^^ FIG. 33. — A MOTniCAL VEKSION OF TELL AND THE APPLE. "Can 3'ou tell, please," asked Hugh, who had not quite gi'asped our hy-play and evidently wanted some- thing more practical, " how to get rid of the worms? I've tried smokin' them out, burnin' weeds under the trees, but that don't seem to amount to much." 100 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAR 31. "Of course, any smoking, to be effective, should be done in the season when the moths are laying their eggs. That may smother or drive away the mothers. I would recommend carefully scraping oft' the loose and rugged bark of the trees in the spring, in order to de- stroy the crysalids. Perhaps the most effective plan is the old-fashioned band-trap. A l)and of old cloth or a twist of common brown paper is wound around or hung in the crotches of the trees, ov wrapped aliout the trunk. In these the apple-worms will conceal themselves, and thus great numbers of the larva and cocoons may he taken and destr03-ed from the time when they first begin to leave the apples, during the last of May, until the fruit is gathered. Of course, the bands should be often examined. There is one precaution, however, that is certainly very useful. As the larvre leave the fruit soon after it drops from the trees, the wind-fallen apples should be gathered up daily and such immediate use made of them as will be sure to kill the insects before they have time to escape." "Oh, dear!" cried Abby, laughing, "that means fresh — fH7rr."'and she pointed to our empty glasses. "Shan't I help you to a little more? You must be thirsty from talking." " Certainly ; you shall not destroj^ my relish for the drink even though jow make it sure that Hugh and Dan did put a few worm-eaten apples into the mill. I am reminded of a remark that I recentl}- heard Dr. Joseph Leidy make at a meeting of the Philadelphia Academy of I^atural Sciences. He had lieon making a PELLTONELLA AND POMONELLA. lOl communication upon a certain large parasitic worm whose ' host ' is our famous 'Delaware shad,' and con- cluded by saying that a portion of the iish — which 1 forbear to name out of respect for the epicures — that is considered the most delicious morsel of all, owes its delicate flavor to the presence of this parasite ! ' I suppose,' said the distinguished naturalist, 'that our shad-loving friends would cease to relish this tidbit if they only knew the facts. But, then, why should they ? — for the parasite is composed of pure shad, and nothing more.' So 1 say of " " Oh, you needn't explain,'' interrupted the Mistress, " the applicatiiMi is quite obvious. But for the benelit of the rest of the family, if not for your sake, I beg to say that Hugh has strict instructions to use only sound apples for cider." "True enough, ma'am," said the farmer ; " and you may be sure that we are all very careful. Miss Abby says that takin' care of win'-falls means cider. Not at all, ma'am ; it means good feed for the pigs and for the cows, too, for that matter." "I recant, I recant," cried Abby ; " and so encour- aged, I also will renew my glass." CHAPTER VII. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. "I HOPE yo's gwine to hab mo' ob dem talks 'boout do iiisecks, Mars Mayliel'." So Dan greeted me a few days after our first fireside meeting. He twirled his battered hat brim through his horuy hands, then rubbed a white palm against the back of his grizzled locks, ducked his head forward and continued: "I doan jes kno' Av'at yo 'd call 'em, sah, but Sary Ann 'lowed dey's say-aH''-says. ' An' w'at are srt//-o)i,'-srt^s, Sary Ann?' says I. 'Wal,' says she, ' dey 's a sort ob free an' easy kine o' talk, w'ar yo says, an' den I says, an' all jine in an' helps de talk along. Kow dat 's a powerful pleasant kine ob atfar. Mars Mayfield, an' suits us 'ns heaj) better 'n loafin' roun' de kentry store, an' sich. So we uns — dat 's Hugh's folks an' Sary Ann an' me — we makes bold to ax yo, wouldn't yo 'low us de priv'lege ob jinin' in de sa^-«)i'-s«vs, in case yo gwine to hab mo' ob 'em, an' we sincerely hope yo is." "Why, Dan, I hadn't thought much about it," I answered. "But you maybe sure if there should be any more ' say -an '-says,' you all will be welcome to the fireside." "T'ank yo, sah ; we 's all powe'ful 'bleeged to yuh, 102 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. lOa Fir,. 34. — THE GEOMETRID HORROR. — JJ. 104-. an' hopes we '11 hab cle pleasure ob yo compauy at anoder conbersashull famil}^ fireside say-an'-say, bery soon." Although I laughed at Dan's magniloquence, I was more gratified at that hearty honest approval of my humble dependents than I had often been before at commendations of cultured friends. To be sure, I learned by-and-by that the Mistress was also in the plot, and that Dan's praises were in good part an echo of her promptings ; but the pleasure of the moment was not dimmed by that knowledge. Thus it came about that the next Saturday evening found our house- 104 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. hold gathered in the old sitting-room for another ento- mological ' seance. ' Where Sarah had picked up that word, and how she had managed to transform it. we never learned, but we were all so impressed with the superiority of her version, that the cook's title was at once naturalized, and ' the Tenant's Say-an'says ' be- came one of the current phrases of our little realm when we were in a merry mood. " I have here a specimen," I began, " plucked from a straggling sprig of wood-wax or dyer's weed {Genista tinctaria) which represents a very familiar race of cater- pillars, the Geometers, or span-worms. They are so called from the mode of walking peculiar to the larvae. Most of these have only ten legs, six of which are jointed and tapering, inider the fore part of the body, and four tleshy prop legs at the hinder extremity. There are no legs on the middle of the body, and con- sequently the caterpillars are unable to crawl in the usual manner. When one wishes to advance it grasps the object firmly with its fore feet, and then draws up the hind feet close to them, not unlike the attitude of a cat which meets a strange dog. The hinder feet then take a firm hold and the body is projected forward until the fore feet can repeat the process. This mode of progression is popularly called 'loop- ing,' and the caterpillars are called ' loopers.' " The Geometers live as larvi3e on trees and bushes, and most of them undergo their transformations in the ground, to reach which by traveling along the branches and down the trunk l^y their peculiar gait would be a MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 105 long and tedious journey. But they arc not reduced to this necessity, for they have the power of letting themselves down from any height by means of a silken thread which they spin from tlieir mouths while fallin<^ Whenever they are disturbed they make use of this FIG. 35.— ORGYIA LEUCOSTIGMA, TUSSOCK MOTH. MALE, FEMALE AND LARVA, NATURAL SIZE.^/:). 106. faculty, drop down suddenly and hang suspended till the danger is past, after which they climb up again by the same thread." "These, then," said the Mistress, "are the little 7 106 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. creatures that used to make a. promenade along oui streets in summer a horror to ladies before the advent of the sparrows ?" " The very same ; but I doubt whether citizens have made a favorable exchange for the pretty hairy creeper, the caterpillar of the Tussock-moth {'Orgyialcucostigma), (Fig. 35), that now fills the squares, fences and walls •with its knobby white cocoons." (Fig. 36). " Why, don't the sparrows eat them, too?" asked Abby. "Ah, a mere question of taste. The soft, smooth, Geometers are a dainty bit to the birds, and the plumed crawlers are not at all to their liking. Why, I have seen the very bird-boxes in the public square covered with the Tussock-moth's cocoons- — crown- ed Avith their white egg-masses. Were the caterpillars crawling at their very doors, and their \W^'" hungry fledglings gaping for food, ^^^- ^^- the parent birds would come COCOON OF TUSSOCK MOTH, NATURAi. SIZE, liomc wltliout suppllcs rathcr than forage upon the Orgyia worms. So the larvte breed securely and in yearly increasing numbers. " If a little wise energy and forethought could be shown by the city authorities in this matter, the evil could soon be remedied. The chief sites of these cocoons MEASURK FOR MEASURE. 107 ai-e the iron fences around the squares, the trunks of trees, the walls and fence cornices of adjacent properties. If these were thoroughly cleansed, the cocoons scraped out and burned in winter, there would be a scant crop of span-worms in summer. For several 3^ears I have watched these troublesome cocoons advancing a little further each season up the trunks of the trees and mul- tiplying along public places, and I have more than once predicted that the nuisance would ere long be well-nigh intolerable. But an American city, like Issachar among the tribes, is a ' strong ass crouching down between two burdens,' who sees 'that rest is good ' and 'bows his shoulders to bear,' and hardly even exercises the healthy Anglo-Saxon right of grumbling at official ignorance and neglect. So canker-worms — not those alone which are comparatively harmless, but those of the moral, social and political sort — breed m public places, crawl unmolested through every highway and byway, and spin and nest in all departments of communal administration and life. Alas ! Well, ' a stitch in time saves nine.' " "And there are some citizens," cried the Mistress, apparently quite oblivious of \\\y figurative speech and philosophy, and reverting to the encroachments of the Orgyia, " who allow those dreadful worms to crawl up their very walls and doorways and build cocoons under the mouldings and ledges of doors and windows quite unmolested. I see hundreds of them housed in such places the entire year. Such house-keep- ing ! I can't understand how ladies will tolerate it." "Perhaps," suggested Abby, "they tolerate the 108 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. worms out of the same mercifulness from which they feed the vixenish sparrows who refuse to kill the worms." " A truce to our moralizing," I said ; "let us return to our span-worm hanging from the tree. The manner in which it ascends its thread is most interesting. In order to do this it bends back its head and catches hold of the thread above its head with one of the legs of the third segment of the body. It then raises its head and seizes the thread with its jaws and forelegs, and by repeating the same operations with tolerable rapidity it soon reaches its former station on the tree. There is another interesting habit which these Geom- eters possess ; when not eating, many of them can rest on the two hindermost pairs of legs against the side of a branch, and stretching out the body nearly horizontally, remain in that position for hours, so that they might easily be mistaken for the twig of a tree. If Joe and Harry Avould like to get some slight idea of the muscular force required to perform this action, let them grasp an up- right pole with their hands and try to hold the body out horizontally. The feats of trained gymnasts in the circus ring or turnverein are fairly outdone by these despised span-worms. I think that you will agree with me that they are interesting little fellows. Moreover, notwithstanding the disgust with which, as the Mistress sajs, the city folk used to regard them as they dropped from the trees, I venture that there are plenty of people who would rather welcome their presence than other- wise. Perhaps some of our young people ean tell us why V" MEASURE FOR MEASURE. "I can, sir/' Harry answered promptly. "Jenny used to say that it = was a sign we were goin' to git a new coat when one oi them caterpillars was seen steppin' off distance on om ^->--5^^':^"^ FIG. ST.— OUn IMPORTED PROTKCTOHS, MUTUAL DISGUST.—;;. lOG English Sparrow to Irish Guardian of American Peace-^^ Do yoMT own nulisty work sir ; H'english sparrows, sir, didn't come 'ere to eat nup your nalisty H'anierican worms I" arms or back. We call them 'measurin' worms' on that account." " Yes, that is the idea : a new coat when seen meas- uring the arms or back, a new pair of gloves when seen looping on the hand, and so through the whole suit. I fear that, like many another local propliet, their promise is better than their fullillment. However, we 110 TEJN'AN'TS OF AN OLD FARM. cannot deny that in the proper season thejr are ver}- diligent in suggesting the subject of new clothes to all passers-by who credit their prophetic office." " A quality, by-the-way," said Abby, "which they share in common with the 'Barkers' in front of Market Street and Chatham Street clothing stores. And, like 'Barkers,' I imagine that their attentions are more respected by country folk than city people." "Here is another of the Looper tribe, or rather a mother-moth, which fortunatel}^ I have been able to collect. I have two specimens, and they are mounted upon this bit of cork. Pass them around the circle and let all have a good look at them. They are not ver}- familiar creatures in their moth or perfect form, but they are quite too well known in the larval state. Come, Miss Abby, you seem to be studying that speci- men very closely, and mean- while Hugh is anxious to see it, and will be much more so when he leai'ns what it is. What is the matter now?" I asked, as the Schoolteacher shook her head and hai:ided the insect to Hugh, with an incredul- ous 'Humph!' "My poor moth appears to have ex- cited your indignation!" (Fig. 38.) " Truly so," replied Abby. "I confess myself a tyro FIG. 06. — A MOTHER MOTH. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. FIG. 39. — A GEOMETRID TUKNVEREIN.— jt). 108. in all branches of entomology, and it would be a sorry victory for a specialist who should impose on me. But really, I think that I have learned enough even within the last few days to prevent you palming that creature upon me as a moth. Why, it doesn't resemble that in- sect in the least." 112 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " So say I," echoed the Mistress. " And wliat says Hugh ?" I asked, as the sturdy fel- low turned the insect around slowly and carefully scru- tinized it on all sides. " Well, sir, I — I begin to find that 1 know so leetle 'bout the commonest sorts o' critters that I don't like to venture a 'pinion. But ef that 's a moth, I reckon you 've pulled its wings oft'. "Not a bad guess," I said, laughing. " But I assure you that it is a moth, and that I have net pulled its wings off". However, not to keep you in suspense, I may tell you that in certain species of moths the female is mncf- less. The pretty feathered caterpillar that we spoke of a little while ago as now infesting our public squares has a wingless mother. This is another example ; it is a veritable moth, the female of a species known as the orchard moth {Anisoptcr;/x pomctaria.^ Harris), a variety perhaps of the vernal moth {Anisopti/rex vernata, Peck). It is the mother of our northern canker-worm." "The canker-worm? Indeed !" exclaimed Hugh. "Let me look at the creatur' again, please. Well, well ! who would have tho't such pestiferous gangs uv varmin 'd a-sprung from a mite uv a beast like that !" (Fig. 40.) "Tor my part," said the Mistress, "I think her quite ugly enough to be the mother of any kind of odious creature. Moreover, I shall owe her an addi- tional grudge because our good professor here used her to victimize so mercilessly his confiding pupils. Think what our Schoolma'am — " " Oh, dear, no !" interrupted Abby, smiling good- MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 113 naturedlj'. "1 decidedly deserved it; and, besides, I practice similar modes of impressing facts upon my ]nipils, and as it serves admiral)ly, I can't complain in this case. I am sure that I, at least, will not forget that some mother- moths are wingless." ''Very good, then; since I am fully ab- solved, I may resume our story. I captured these specimens as they were making their way up one of our apple trees, having just left the ground in which they had matured. It was formerly supposed that the canker-worm moths came out of the ground only in the spring. It is now known that many of them rise in the autumn and early part of the win- ter. In mild and open winters I have seen them in every month from October to March. They begin to make their appearance after the first hard frosts in the Fall, usually toward the end of October and continue to come forth in numbers according to the mildness of the weather after the frosts have begun. "However, their general time of rising is in the spring, beginning about the middle of JNIarch, and they continue to come forth for the space of about three FIG. 40. — OKCHAKU MOTH, WING- LESS FEMALE, WINGED MALE, AND LARVA. 114 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. weeks. The sluggish females instinctively make their way to the nearest trees, and creep slowly up their trunks. Their husbands, having better facilities for traveling, inasmuch as they are winged, delay their ad- vent a few days, when they also leave their earthen cells and join the females, fluttering about and accom- panying them in their ascent. " Soon after this the females lay their eggs upon the branches of the trees. They place them on their ends close together in rows, forming clusters of from sixty to one hundred eggs or more, which is the number usually laid by each female. The eggs are glued to each other and to the bark b}- a grayish A^arnish which is impervious to water ; and the clusters are thus securely fastened in the forks of the small branches, or close to the young twigs and buds. The eggs are usuall}- hatched between the first and the middle of May, or about the time that the red currant is in blossom and the young leaves of the apple-tree begin to start from the bud and grow. The little canker-worms, upon making their escape from the eggs, gather upon the tender leaves and begin to eat. If there comes a snap of cold, and during rainy weather, they creep for shelter into the bosom of the bud, or into the flowers when they appear. The leaves first attacked will be found pierced with small holes ; these become larger and more irregular when the canker-worms increase in size, and at last neai-ly all the pulpy parts are consumed, leaving little more than the midrib and veins. " Tlie worms when well fed grow to be an inch long ; MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 115 riG. 41. — THE CLOTHES BARKER'S PARADISE. — p. 110. they quit eating when about four weeks old, and begin to leave the trees ; some creep down by the trunk, but great numbers let themselves down by threads from the branches, their instinct prompting them to get to the ground by the most direct and easiest course." " Oh, yes," said Joe, " I have seen them hanging tiiat way from the branches that jut across the road. It kept us dodging to get rid uv 'em as we drove along." " Aye, and I doubt not you helped nature in distribut- ing the little fellows along the road-side, for they lay hold upon passing objects and are carried goodly dis- tances before shaken off. When they reach the ground they immediately burrow in the earth to the depth of 116 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. from two to six inches, and make little cavities or cells by turning around repeatedly and fastening the loose grains of earth about them with a few silken threads. Within twenty-four hours afterward, they are changed to crysalids in their cells, where, as we have seen, they transform in the autumn and winter as well as spring. They usually come out of the ground in the night, when the females may be seen straggling through the grass from various points of the area bounded by the spread of the branches, and making toward the trunk." " You didn't tell vis what becomes of the mother- moths," suggested Harry. " There is little more to be said about them, for they are very short-lived ; when they have laid their eggs they begin to languish, and soon die." " You spoke of the worms takin' to the apple-trees," said Hugh, " but I find thet they aren't very pertikler in their tastes, so 's they kin git a holt 'v suthin' thet damages the farmer. I 've found "em on the cherry and plum, and they 're special fond uv the elm." " That is true ; and you might extend their bill of fare to some other cultivated and native ti'ees, as well as many shrubs." " Is this the canker-worm of which we read in the Bible ?" asked the Mistress. " It seems to have been a great scourge to the people of Palestine and those parts. " "It is not easy to answer that question. The exact meanings of words used in the Hebrew Testament to express all forms of animal life, are hard to determine. Some have supjDOsed the word translated ' canker- MEASURE Foil MEASURE. 117 worm " to i-l'Ilt to the locust or at least to the larva of the locust ; but the words reudered ' palmer-worm' and ' caterpillar ' seem to have had reference to some species of cauker-worm.'' "I should like it amazingly if 3'ou could tell me how to get rid of the varmin," remarked Hugh. "Practical entomology is not much in my line," 1 answered, "and I fear that such a theme would not greatly interest the majority of our little circle. But I can tell you of an ancient remedy that was supposed to be very eflective. In the early part of the seventeenth century the peasants in many places in Germany took this mode : they pulled a stake from a hedge, looped around it a rope which they rapidly drew back and forth until the friction kindled it into a tlame. This they carefully fed with stubble and dry wood. When the bonfire had quite burned out the peasants collected the ashes and spread them over their garden vegetables, confident that by this means they could drive away the canker-worm. This fire they called the ' Nodfeur, ' or, as we might say, the ' Need-fire.' " "You don't mean to say, sir, " asked Hugh, "that you think the JiTodfeur ashes really did any good in keeping off the canker-worms ?" "Why not?" I inquired. "Tut, tut!" exclaimed the Mistress. "I am sure you don't indorse any such nonsense. It was pure superstition that prompted the custom, and you haven't much of that element in your mental make-up, I know well.'' 118 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "Tliu question," I rejoined, "was not whether the custom originated in or was maintained by supei-stition, but whether the N'odfeur ashes were beneficial ; and I answer that confidently in the affirmative. If one were to sprinkle such material upon the vegetables when covered with the morning dew it would adhere to the leaves and thus make them distasteful to the caterpillars. This says nothing of the effect of the p(jtash in the ashes, which maybe injurious, nor of the dislike of larvje and, indeed, of many insects to move over surfaces covered with pulverized matter. I attribute nothing at all, of course, to the effect of tlw fetich, but much to the protec- tion given by making the natural food-plant obnoxious to the worms. "There is another element which enters into the utility of this and all like remedies. Many years ago I read an incident which illustrates my thought. I re- peat it from memory, and cannot vouch for all the de- tails, but give the substance of the stor}-^ as I remember it. A noble German lady found that despite her best endeavor there was a vast wastage in her household and a consequent trenching upon her limited income. At last she went to a hermit famous for godliness and wisdom, and asked for a charm to protect her from this grief. The good man gave her a little sealed box, containing the required charm, instructing her to place the same in one corner of every room in her house and out-buildings once every day, varying as much as pos- sible the hour of her daily visit. He bade her, also, return at the end of a year to report results. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 119 "A year pa.ssed and iW lady rctunuul with good news and a grateful olleriiig. The charm had wrought wonders. Her household was never in such goodly condition, the wastage had stopped, the continual anx- iety over insufficient income had ceased, her liusband was delighted, her neighbors full of praise. She begged for a renewal of the charm, declaring that she would not be without it for much mone}'. " The monk broke the seal and showed the contents of the box. It was empty! 'See,' he said, 'there is no charm here ! That which has wrought the good re- sults over which you rejoice, has been your own care for every part of your house. As you went to each room you saw what was needed and supplied it, what was wrong and righted it. Your eyes were upon all your men and maids, as well as on their work every da}', and they felt the influence of this oversight. There has been no other charm than this, and you need no other. Go, lady, and henceforth hold faithfully to the rule and habit of the past year, and be assured that your home will be a well-ordered, prosperous and happy one.' " "Truly," said the Mistress, "that was a wise old monk. I can vouch for it that a constant personal inspection of all one's house, especially of the cuddies and corners, will work like a charm toward good housekeeping. But really, I don't quite take the ap- plication of your story to the German peasants and their canker-worms." " Indeed ! Then you are not apt as usual to see a point. In fighting insect pests it is precisely as in 130 TENANTt^ OF AN OLD FARM. housekeeping. The constant oversight of every plant discovers the destroyer and leads to its prompt destruc- tion. The man who daily visits his growing vegetables, with or without ashes or othtir preventive, will see the canker-worms and kill them. Nor does once going over the crop serve. The worms are legion ; each day has its own host, which must be met tUat day before devasta- tion begins. I have the notion that the old-time Nodfeur custom may have looked also to this point. Perhaps some wise observer, who knew that men will often maintain good habits better under the spur of a superstition than the stimulus of simple good sense and experience, may have set his neighbors to defend their crops by the invention of a bit of supposed harmless superstition. Or, more likely, the superstition gradually grew around what was originally only a -vvise rule of successful horticulture." "Well, sir," remarked Hugh, "You 're quite right in thinkin' that constant watchin' is the great thing in raisin' garden sass. I 've had the best kind o' luck in the very worst years for worms and bugs, jist Ijy goin' over and over the wines. I knock off the critters into a pan an' then kill 'em. It 's a good deal o' trouble, but ef a man wants wegetables he 's got to do it, I reckon. There 's alius a few days w'en the varmin is particlar bad, an' by standin' to 't mornin' and evenin' durin' those days a feller '11 come out purty well." CHAPTER VIII. INSECT TROGLODYTKS. One of our favorite walks, during these autumn days, leads across the meadow, down the hill-slope, over the brooklet, and so, by a rocky steep beyond, through a thick woods to the banks of Crum creek. On the oc- casion of which I am now to write my companion was an elderly clerical friend, the Rev. Dr. Goodman. The Doctor is a noble example of the old-time clergyman. His tall, sturdy frame, scarcely bowed by his seventy years, is always robed in becoming black, never, in any contingency, omitting the indispensable dress-coat. His full curly white hairs fall upon his neck beneath a broad-brimmed black hat, a compromise between the Quaker pattern and a Yankee wide-awake. His strong, benignant face is clean-shaved, and his well-turned chin, just verging upon the " double," is lifted above a broad, white choker, between the wide-apart points of an old- fashioned standing collar. In these latter days his waistcoat has expanded somewhat above a growing rotundity, and beneath it a goodly fobchain protrudes. The gold watch to which it dangles, and the portly gold-headed cane which he carries, are both the gifts of his warmly-attached parishioners. His salary is modest enough, though somewhat more generous than Goldsmith's parson, " passing rich with forty pounds a 8 131 122 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. year ;" but as his church owns a cozy manse and ample glebe, he lives contentedly and even comfortably, with his wife and two daughters. His home is at Marple, six miles across the hills, and he has driven over to spend a night at the Old Farm and renew a pleasant friendship formed during seasons when one summer had Ijeen spent within his parish. As his rumbling old carryall turned down our avenue behind the fat, chestnut-bay horse whose lazy jog-trot is known through all the country side, the familiar sight stirred up very pleasant thoughts. "My dear poctor," I exclaimed, greeting him at the gate, " you are welcome, indeed ! To what fair fortune are we indebted for this pleasant surprise ?" The good minister was altogether too guileless to ward off this direct query without uncovering the truth. He blushed, hesitated and glanced appealingly at the Mis- tress, who had now joined in the greeting. " Ah ! I see how it is," I said, coming to the relief of the embarrassed parties; "another conspiracy in my behoof!" "Just so, just so!" exlaimed the Doctor, nodding his head with unction, while his face beamed a happy smile. "And I'm heartily glad the cat's out of the bag, although I suspect this particular cat is a very harmless kitten ! However, it 's all right now, and I 've come to spend the evening with you." So I knew that the hand of the little Mistress, the true guardian angel of those invalid days, had touched the spring that moved the Doctor hitherward ; as. FIG. 43. — ANCIENT CAVE-DWELLEKS. — p. 1-4. 124 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. indeed, it had similarily done on so many kindred occa- sions. The Doctor, like most of his profession, has always had an intelligent interest in natural science, and, more- over, cultivated a speciality in ethnology and arche- ology. . He is deep in the problem of man 's antiquitv ; and what with works on " Preadamites," " Cave-Hunting," "The Epoch of the Mammoth," "The Story of Earth and Man," "The Races of Man," etc., has a busy time in keeping his friends of the modern school in harmony with his older friends of the Usherian Bible chronology. He brought over with him, on his present visit, a recent work on " Early Man in Europe," which we had abundantly (not to say thoroughly) dis- cussed during the evening after the lamps had been lit and afire kindled on the hearth. "Just for the wee bit blinkin' o' the ingle," wife said, "and to mellow the night chill of the advancing fall." The frontispiece of the Doctor's book is some ideal scene of troglodytic life. It is a night scene : a fire is burn- ing in front of a rocky cavern, around which the dusky forms of a primitive family are grouped ; a full moon shines in the background , and in the foreground a pack of htmgry wolves are pushing up over the rocks as near as they dare come to the fire, which thus, in more than one sense, protects the unconscious cave-men (Fig. 42.) The picture, at least, succeeded in stirring up the im- aginations of our Mistress and the inquisitive School- ma'am, so that the Doctor had full room to expand upon his favorite theme. mSECT TROGLODYTES. 125 "Well, Doctor," I .said, when we hail finished morn- ing worship, "I have something to show you down here that will gratify your antiquarian interest in your fellow- men. Moreover, I think I can put you on the trail of a race of troglodytes of even more ancient descent than those of whom you told us last night." " Indeed ! But— tut ! you are trying to quiz me, I see." " Not in the least ; get your hat and cane, and let us walk over to the creek ; you shall judge if I am not in good earnest." "Well, well, I confess that I am incredulous still; but it's a fine morning for a walk, at any rate, and there 's nothing gives such interest to a journey as some pleasant motive and destination." " There 's a deal of deep philosophy in that remark," continued the good man. after a pause, during which he had arrayed himself for the excursion, "a philosophy that one does well to apply to all the pilgrimage of this life and its final destination, which I hope may be a happy one for us all. Ah ! excuse me, I really did not mean to preach !" And he did not, for the blush mantled his face, and he looked askance at me as though anticipating my displeasure. We were now fairly afield, and our thoughts turned again upon the troglo- dytes. "There is one thing," I said, "that puzzles me in your view of the early cave-men. May I ask how you reconcile it with your belief as to the condition of the original pair of Eden ?" 126 TENANTS OF AN OLD j^AJDf. " To be sure ! There 's no contradiction at all. Adam and Eve were very primitive, indeed, in their habits. Their moral nature was unclouded — tlierein lay their original perfectness. They were civilized men in that respect ; in other particulars they simply had the rudiments of civilization. With natural in- telligence such as man now possesses, with knowledge of fire, and situated in a soft and congenial climate, they rapidly developed, as we see in the family of Cain, the arts of herding, music, and smelting metals." " Well, but were they troglodytes ? Did they have those horrible struggles with the wild beasts of the earth hinted at in your book ?" "Certainly not ; their environment saved them from such necessities. But then some of their posterity, as they scattered over the earth, relapsed from many of the acquired arts of civilized men, as they became vicious in morals, and falling upon adverse surroundings, it is not strange that they should have been troglodytes or cave-men of the rudest type— quite as savage as tribes of which we know to-day. But — pray, what is this ? A grave, here in the meadow ?" We had been quietly jogging along the path, and now stopped beside a marble slab fixed in the midst of the field, that might easily have been taken for a grave- stone. It was eighteen inches in height, six in thick- ness and seven in width. It sloped with the descent of the hill, and around its base clumps of grass, clover and sheep-sorrel had gathered. The Doctor lost no time in donning his spectacles. INSECT TR GL OD YTEfl. 127 FIG. 43. — CAVE-DWELLERS — ANCIENT AND MODERN. aud kneeling down beside the stone read the inscrip- tion : CAVE & DWELLING 1685. 128 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "This is your antiquarian rarity, is it ?" he asked, rising. "It is certainly worth seeing ; and now let us have its story, although I could guess the nature of it. I believe the name is that of one of our good old Quaker families, and the date carries us so near to the era of the settlement of our State that I readily conjecture the fact here commemorated." "Yes, I see that you have easily guessed the truth, although it is often puzzling enough to those less fam- iliar with our pioneer history. This farm was first brought under culture by Jane Townes, one of the early Quaker emigrants, who, with her three sons, came over to Friend "William Peun's colony soon after the great founder's landing. The husband and father died on ship- board during the voyage to America ; but the widow, with genuine pluck and faith, took up the burden of colonial settlement, and bought a plantation which included in its bounds our old farm. On this spot they made their first dwelling ; they dug into the slope of the hill just here, threw out rough supports much like the props in a coal drift, and banked up the whole, thus making what was known as a ' cave. ' Here the widow with her sons lived until timber could be cut from the thick woods that covered the site, and hewn and builded into a log house. One of her descendants had this cave-stone erected to mark the site of what was the first home of a white family in this neighborhood. The present stone farm-house has not yet seen its first century, having beenbuilt A.D. 1792." " Well, that was a courageous woman certainly !" ex- INSECT TllOGLODYTKS. 129 claimed the doctor, " and her phick deserves a much better monument. However, I have no doubt she and her boys enjoyed their rude life quite as much as their descendants do these days of civilized abundance. There is a streak of the nomad in most men. Where was ever the boy who didn't long for a Robinson Crusoe's cave ? There was always a fascination for me, when a lad in Ohio, in certain caves among the rocky masses of the Little Beaver. In those days the chief charm of a fishnig jaunt was the fire and the noon lunch in caverns or under jutting rocks. I am sure that I should have greatly enjoyed those old pioneer days, so I will waste no pity on the hardships of good Jane Townes. But I must claim the other part of your promise. Where are the traces of those cave-men more ancient than the men of the Dordogne ? I am eager to inspect them." "Not so fast, Doctor. I did, indeed, promise you a sight of most ancient cave dwellers, but I said not a word of cave-»!Si:CT TRoGLOnrTEti. 139 seem ambitious to reach the highest point, and jostle and crowd one another in their eftbrts to be at the top of the heap. This the mother patiently endures for a time, but when the younglings thicken too closely over her eyes she reaches up her forelegs, scrapes oft" an arm- ful and holds them straight in front of her as if discip- lining them by reproving looks. Soon she releases them by slowly opening her legs, whereupon the spider- lings quietly take their places around the edge of the tower, where they usually remain until the mother goes below, when they all follow. Upon her reappearance they are again mounted upon her back." "How do the Uttle fellows keep their position so firmly ?" asked the Doctor. "The body of the mother is covered with soft hairs to which her babies hold by their feet, or fasten them- selves by delicate threads spun from their spinnarets. When they are two weeks old they " molt " or cast their skin, a process which spiders undergo several times un- til they are quite mature. The molting of the young turret spiders is a curious sight. They stretch a line across the back of the mother's abdomen to which they fasten themselves. Then they begin to undress. The skin cracks all around the chest— the cepholotorax— •which is held by the front edge alone ; next the abdo- men is freed, and then comes the struggle to free the legs. By dint of regular pullings, repeated at short intervals, the old skin is cast in fifteen minutes or more, and the spiderling appears undressed but quite ex- hausted. It lies limp, pallid and motionless for a little 140 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. while and then gradually resumes its activity. Some- times the mother's back will be covered with taut lines decorated with these cast-off" molts, reminding one of the dainty pieces of a baby's toilet hung up to dry in the laundry." "How long does the mother keep her brood around her ?" asked the Doctor. " When the young are about three weeks old a few begin to leave the maternal care. They have been long enough 'tied to mother's apron string,' to quote a common saying that has quite as much fact as figure in it for our spiderlings. They climb up a grass stalk, then venture upon a higher weed or shrub, thence they reach the trunk of a tree, and, grown bolder now, climb out upon the branches. After another week the mother shows a disposition to send her brood adrift. The time for ' weaning ' has come, and occasionally a little one is reminded of this fact by being tossed away into the grass. A bright, warm autumn day follows, and then the entire brood, moved by the resistless instinct of migration, leave their mother without further ceremony, run here and there upon plants and trees, or are dis- tributed over the vicinity by aeronautic flight, that strange habit so strongly analogous to ballooning as practiced by men. Later in the season or in the spring one will find a number of tiny burrows, the very coun- terpart of the mother's, in which the young have set up housekeeping, or cave-keeping rather, for themselves. As they grow in size the burrows are enlarged, until at last the babes have themselves become mothers and re- INSECT TROGLODYTES. 141 FIG. 4.S._ SEASIDE RESIDENCE OF TURRET SPIDER. peat among their own broods the maternal instincts that fostered their baby days/' " There is an interesting variation in Arenicola's mode of bnilding her turret wliich I liave often ob- served along the Xe^y Jersey seaboard. Around the edge of the burrow, which is ahvavs driven straight downward by the spider, is heaped a foundation^f tiny pebbles. These are usually white quartz, gathered from the surrounding sand. Upon this foundrtion tlie 143 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. tower is erected, and the varied material gives a pretty effect. " If one carefully dig the sand away from the burrow, having first taken the precaution to drop a twig within it (see Fig. 48), he may expose the interior. The sandy walls of the excavation appear to be kept in place by a slight secretion of silk which melts into the interstices of the sand, and hae sufficient consistency to maintain it intact. Supported thus upon the twig tlic wall looks something like the leg of a wee lace stocking dusted over with sand. I have succeeded in exposing unbroken fully two inches of this interior coating ; but it required the most dainty manipulation." "Truly," observed the Doctor, patting the ground with his cane meditatively the meanwhile, " the ' see- ing eye' is a rare gift. Now, I have wandered and loitered over those seashore sands many scores of times and never saw such an object as that. I think that my next vacation jaunt will bring me a fresh enjoyment in looking up these troglodytic friends of yours," CHAPTER IX. CAVE-DWKI.LING INSECTS. " Hello, Harry ! The Doctor wants to see a ])um- ble-bees' nest. Can j'ou find one for liim?" Harry, who was crossing the field within easy call, ran eagerly toward us at this greeting, for the very name bumble-bee has a stirring intluence upon a lad who knows anj'thing of the countr}'. If there were a " ])um-bees' " nest anywhere in the neighborhood I knew that Harry might be trusted to point out the locality ; and accordingly the lad was soon at our side, his face aglow with a sense of importance and anticipated pleasure. The Doctor, however, war taken somewhat by sur- prise. "My dear sir," he cried, "I am not the least aware of any such want as you have expressed. On the contrary, I heartily excuse Harry from all service in the way of humble-bee hunting." " I^To, no. Doctor. You cannot escape so easily. You are committed to a search after the most ancient cave- dwellers, and it would be too bad to omit such distin- guished representatives as the humljle-bee. Here is Harry quite ready to encourage your antiquarian tastes, and he would be disappointed now wei'e you to turn back. Can you lead us to a bumble-bees' nest, Harry?" 143 144 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Yes, sir," answered the boy with alacrity. "There's one just beyond here in a big tussock on the edge of the swamp-grass. Joe and I found it las' Jul}^ when they was a-mowin'." " And resisted the temptation to clean it out ? That was a marvelous example of self-denial for a growing hoy. How did it happen ?" " We did mean to fight it, and was jest gettin' ready when father 'lowed ef we 'd wait till frost come we 'd have the nest without gettin' stung. But that wasn't the reason zactly," added the lad. "7 don't mind bee- stings much, though some folks 's mighty feard uv 'em. Here 's the nest, sir." Harry had well described the site, which is indeed a favorite one for these insects, who love to burrow in moist, low meadow land, near a great tuft of grass or tussock. Yet they give themselves a good deal of lati- tude in the choice of their subterranean homes, and often affect a grassy bank or lawn. Harry pushed aside the grass and showed us the entrance or gate to the cave — a round hole half an inch in diameter. The droning buzz-z-zz / of a bee's wings warned us that one of the workers approached her nest. She circled around us cautiously and somewhat ex- citedly. There was a growing sharpness in the note of her hum which warned the Doctor to start back and pull the limp brim of his hat about his ears. Harrj' laughed, and sat still, simply withdrawing his hand from the opening. The bee gradually narrowed the circles of her flight, and after a few turns a])ove tlie CA VE-D WELLING INSECTS. 145 fig. 49. — entrance to the humble-bee's cave. gate, as is hei* liabit when home-coming, settled upon the ground and crept down the tube with a final buzz of satisfaction. She had thus unwittingly identified tlie site for us and confirmed Harry's report. (Fig. 49.) "Now, Doctor," I remarked, "here is an oppor- ;^ 146 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. tmiity to prove your devotion to science. Our little cave-dwellers are wont to defend their household treasures with some acrimony." "My dear fellow," said the clergyman, "I pray you have me excused ! I am too old and clumsy to engage in a battle with bumble-bees. If you stir up those mettlesome little beasts I shall certainly run away. Good morning !" " Hold, hold, Doctor ! I promise to spare you. But how shall we learn the mysteries of this cavern-home unless we take some risks in the work of exploration ? Really, I am anxious, on my own behalf, to see the interior of a bee's nest; for 1 haven't seen one since my boyhood, and in those days there was rather too much excitement in the assault and defense to permit a care- ful study of the architecture." Here Harry spoke. "I know where they're two other nests inside the yard, back of the house. Tap was telUng Joe and me t' other day that we 'd hav' tub clean 'em out anyhow, sence the folks 'ad come. So ef you 'd like to see a nest we '11 open one now for you, jest as leav's not." "Ah, that will do finely," I said; "so you see, Doctor, we shall get the spoils of victory without the perils of war." "True enough," was the reply. "But isn't that very much like the patriotism of the great showman, Artemas Ward, who exhibited such self-sacrificing willingness to have all his wife's relations go to war ?" "Perhaps it is," I answered, smiling, "but we may CAVE-DWELLINO INSECTS. 147 trust our boys to come out of the conflict without any serious hurt. They are experienced hands at bee- nesting, I warrant. And now, if you '11 consent to spend the day with us, we '11 defer our cave-hunting until evening. What say j'ou ?" The Doctor, who was quite prepared to humor my fancies and encourage me in these agreeable field pur- suits, readily consented. Therefore, dismissing Harry, we turned our steps homcAvard. As we walked over the moist, soft ground that skirts the edge of the Eun, my friend noticed a ridge of loose, fresh earth heaved up along the low bank. " I see that a mole has been at work here," he remarked. "Let us look a little more closely," I said. "The burrow which this ridge covers is certainl}- much like a mole's, but smaller than that animal makes. I suspect that we are on the trail of another of our insect cave dwellers— the mole-cricket. Yes, it is so, and here be- neath this stone the burrow terminates." I turned over the stone, and exposed a simple opening into the earth. " Whei-e is the cricket ? " asked the Doctor. " That is more easily asked than answered; some- where near the bottom of his cave at this hour of the day, too far down for us to reach. But if you will visit his burrow with me this evening, I ma}' satisfy your curiosity. The mole-cricket is a nocturnal insect, and will not be caught near the door of his den until dusk. If one will then push a long grass stalk into the opening the irritated inhabitant will probaljly grasp it. 148 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM and grass and cricket inaj^ be drawn out tooether. Our American species is known as the Northern mole-cricket {On/lhtalpa boreal is), although, in fact, it inhabits nearly the whole of the great plains, from Louisiana to Massachusetts. Sometimes the bulk of the soil beneath the sod and stones for a rod from the water's edge will be found completely honey- combed with their burrows. They seldom penetrate to a depth of more than six or eight inches, rarely to a foot beneath the surface. The burrows are about one- third of an inch in diameter, entirely irregular in direc- tion, and often terminate abruptly. When tlie ground is hard, the burrows are brought so near the surface as to raise long ridges of mould, which, when dry, fre- quently fall in and expose the interior.''' "Does the mole-cricket chirrup like the traditional hearth cricket? " "It does chirrup, or rather creak, but its note is dif- ferent, resembling the distant sound of frogs, but some- what feebler. It is most frequently heard about dusk." " Why is the insect called a mole-cricket ?" "From the very fact, in part, that caused you to mis- take his burrow for a mole's. The general shape of the insect contri1)utes to this likeness, as w^ell as the strange development of the fore limbs, and the peculiar formation of the llrst pair of feet, which are not unlike the corresponding members of the mole. There are other points of resemblance which are most extraor- dinary. Like the mole, the mole-cricket passes nearly tlie whole of its life underground, digging out long pas- CAVE-DWELLING IN8EVTS. 149 FU;. 60.— tiRYLLOTAI-PA BORFALIS— THE MOLE CKICKET— ITS CAA'B AND EGGS. sages by means of its spade-like limbs, and traversing them in search of prey. Like the mole, it is fierce and quari-elsome, is ready to fight with its own kind, and, if victorious, always tears its vanquished opponent to pieces. Like the mole, it is exceedingly voracious, and if confined without food with several of its own species, the strongest will devour the weakest. We may close the analogy by saying that, like the mole, it is useful enough in the fields, where its tunnels form a kind of subsoil drainage, but is equally destructive in the gar- den among young plants and flowers, upon whose roots it feeds. The European species ( Gryllotalpa vulgaris) is often quite a pest, but our American species has not yet 150 TENANTS OP AN OLD FARM. developed such destructive habits, perhaps from lack of opportunity." " Well, well," cried the Doctor, " I quite join you ni declaring this a most extraordinary creature. These are wonderful resemblances to exist in animals so widely separated as a cricket and a mole — au insect and a vertebrate." "Perhaps," I suggested, thinking to draw the Doc- tor's theological fire, " the insect is a far-away ancestor of the vertebrate ? At least, an evolutionist might have no difficulty in accounting for such resemblances by some application of his theory." The Doctor glanced slily at me, smiled, and answered : "Ah! you shall not disturb my equanimity so. Evo- lution is no theological &eie noir to me. Not that I be- lieve it, at all ; on the contrary, I think it is yet an un- proved hypothesis. But, considered as a method oj creation simply, I am wiUing to leave it wholly in the hands of the naturalists and philosophers. Of course, that materialistic view of evolution, which dispenses with a Divine Creator as the First Cause of all things, has no place in my thought. That is not for a moment to be tolerated ; but, as for the rest, why should Chris- tian people disturb themselves ? Science has not yet said her last word, by any means, and we can well aftbrd to wait. The only absolute condition that I name is, that evolutionists shall still heartily join us in the opening sentence of the Creed : ' I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth.'' But, Mr. Mayfield, we are not driven of necessity to CAVB-D WELLING INSECTS. 151 evolutionism to account for such striking analogies in the animal kingdom as those between the mole and the mole-cricket." " Indeed ! What other theory can so well satisfy the demands of science V" " The theory which lies at the root of all Monotheism, viz. : the origin of all things in One Divine Mind. The critic will trace with reasonable certainty the literary remains of an ancient author by the characteristics of style. Amid a number of claimants he will separate the genuine products from the apochryphal by those re- semblances which naturally and inevitably mark the productions of one mind. Now, why should I not rea- son in this wise of the One Great Over-Mind and the products of His thought V Is it strange that, if all things are created by the Almighty God, there should be trace- able amongst them even through an infinite wealth and variety of wisdom, taste and skill, a manifest likeness ? Nay, it would be strange were it otherwise. Belief in the Unity of God the Creator leads logically to such analogies as we have been speaking of. Sometimes, as with our mole and cricket, the analogies lie close to the surface ; again, they run deeper, or are wholly hidden even from star-eyed science. But, in any case, I cannot see, from this stand-point, that the theory of evolution has any advantage over a theory of special creations. However, there is no need that the two theories should fall to blows. Let us have Patience and Charity. There is a deal too much dogmatism on both sides. Let us wait and look further. Truth is one and 152 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. of Oue. By and by we shall find the Ihiks that bind all natural facts into one chain, and that shall lead — 1 never for a moment doubt it ! — over whatever trail, by whatever method, straight to the Hand Divine." The face of the good old man had kindled under the play of thought. He had brushed back his felt hat, as was his habit in animated conversation, until his broad brow was fully exposed. He walked on, erect and vigorous, punctuating his periods l^y sounding thumps upon the path with his gold-headed cane (another pecu- liar habit), keeping his eyes the while well aloft as though communing with the clouds. Gradually the glance fell until it reached the plane of my face, when, with a bright smile, the Doctor added : " There, you have tempted me to express sentiments that I rarely trouble others with. You may put it down as one more of the wonders of that extraordinary mole-cricket that he should thus lift the flood-gate of garrulity from an old man's lips." "My dear Doctor," I said, "I thank you from my heart for this expression of your views. It would be well for all concerned were such reasonable and chari- table opinions more commonly held and frequently uttered." " Now for the bumble-bees !" The farm-house awoke from the profound stillness which, according to the law of the Mistress, daily in- vited to a refreshing afternoon nap. Abby and the children were home from school, Hugh and Joe were in early from the field, and I summoned all hands to the CAVE-DWELLINO INSECTS. 153 PIG. 51.— QUEEN, MALE, WORKERS MINOR ANB MAJOR OP HUMBLE-BEE (BOMBUS VIRGINICUS.) raid upon the bees. The uest was found upon the lawn, just beyond the ckimp of shade trees where the yard beghis to roll downward toward the meadow and the spring-house run. One of the gates opened directly into the sod by a circular hole, rimmed around about by ex- cavated soil. It was prettily embowered beneath the tufts of orchard grass and sprigs of red clover, which indeed wholly concealed it. "How cunningly this is hidden!" exclaimed the Schoolma'am; "pray, how did you happen to find it, Harry ?" " I jest stumbled on it, ma'am. I stopped here one 10 154 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. day, and while moving my feet back and forth, firs' thing I knowed two or three bees came up out 'v the grass and began buzzin' 'round me. I knowed what that meant, stooped down and found this hole." " So ?" said the Schoolma'am. " The bees then were themselves the tell-tales and betrayed their own nest. They hadn't imbibed the peaceful principles of the old Friendl}' proprietor, or they might have escaped this impending doom. Heigh-ho!" " Very likely, Miss Abby. But we can moralize by and by. Where 's your other nest, Harry ?" It was pointed out at the edge of an uncovered hot- bed which had been set into the bank about eight feet from the pretty gate which we had just examined and admired. A hole as big as one's fist penetrated the bank at the side of the bed-frame, into which several bees entered while we looked. The first opening was evidently the natural ai'chitecture of the bees, but this seemed to be the burrow of a mole which had been utilized by the insects. We decided to liegin operations at the first gate. The party gathered around at various distances, regulated by the various degrees of respect entertained for the acculeate ability of the bees. "Hello, Joe, bring on the jug!" called Harry; " we 're all ready." " Jug ? What's that for ?" asked Abby. "Dear knows!" said the Mistress; "but the boys have been exploring tlie premises for a black jug — it must be a black one, they said, or it wouldn't answer." VAVE-B^'EIJJNO INSECTS. 155 The lads liad evidently succeeded in tlieir search, for Joe appeared, carrying a black jug, half filled with water. He laid it on its side, with the mouth close to the gate. " All right !" he said. " Go ahead now. I warrant the bees won't hurt us very much." I thrust a tuft of cotton into the opening, and then cut out the sod around, thus preserving intact the natu- ral gate to the nest. When this was removed, and the gallery beneath uncovered, the m5'stery of Joe's jug was immediately explained. One after another a troop of yellow-backed bees issued forth, mounted on wing with angry whirr, coursed a few narrow circles, then dived into the open mouth of the jug, where they were immersed in the contents. "Oh, Joe," exclaimed Abby, "this is a base mode of warfare. It equals the wickedness of our white an- cestors, who have literally exterminated the wild aborigines by the enticements of the jug. Fie ! lie ! Why don't you fight them like a man ?" (Fig. 52.) "Hugh Bond declared these bees trespassers," cried the Mistress from the safe shelter of a neighboring pine tree, "and I have heard him at!irm that all trespassers ought to be 'jugged.' Don't mind what Miss Abby says, Joe." "Alas I" said the Doctor, also inclined to draw a moral from the novel proceeding, " how often is Indus- try, symbolized by the busy bee, utterly wrecked, and its fruits desolated bj' the perfidious habit of which the ' jus ' is the emblem !" 156 CAVPJ-DW£:LLiyj INSECTS. 157 "Doctor, Doctor!" called the Mi.stress, "how dare you'V Tiiat 's my vinegar ju<;- !" "Pardon, madam," said the Dominie, " I meant no harm ; but I perceive that it is true, as our old writing- copy affirmed, 'Comparisons arc odious.' " In the meantime, quite unmolested by the bees, we had followed the underground gallery, which soon widened into what was evidently the burrow of a mole. It led in a zigzag course toward the hot-bed frame. "Why, Harry," I said, "your two nests will turn out to be one, I think." So it proved. After tracing the burrow for a dis- tance of five feet, we came upon the nest. It lay in a cavity seven or eight inches in diameter, the floor of which was eighteen inches from the surface. As the yellow cells of the bumble-bees showed amid the torn shreds of their gray mattress of curled hay, the boys cried out : "Here it is! Here it is !" The Mistress left the shelter of her tree, with head wrapped in a scarf; the Doctor pulled his hat-brims around his ears ; Julia threw up her check apron until it wholly enveloped her head ; Abby wore her hat, and had twisted a kerchief around her neck. What they saw through the broken wall of the cave was a round bundle of dry chopped grass, about the bigness of one's head, lying on the floor, sprinkled with the yellow soil fallen from our digging. " Look out now !" Half a dozen bees rose from the pulverized ruins of 158 TEWAMTS OB' AN OLD FARM. their home ; shook oft" the dust from their wings, and darted toward the group of curious observers. There were screams aud a quick dispersion. Tlie Mistress and Jenny ran away without ceremony. Abby took a step or two backward, and tlien stood her ground, tak- ing the precaution, liowever, to clasp her skirts tightly, while her head rapidly oscillated in the vain endeavor to follow the insects' flight. The Doctor retreated with some show of dignity, as became his cloth, but hugged his cheeks tightly with his soft hat. Uuluckily for him, black seems to affect a humble-bee as red does a bull ; and several of the irate workers, attracted by the clerical sable, charged straight upon the dominie. This was too much, even for his dignity; so, standing no further ceremony, he turned and tied, holding his hat down with one hand, and with the other wildly beat- ing a handkerchief about his face. The scene was laughable enough, but tlie boys ran to the rescue. The bees abandoned the Doctor and fell upon them, but were soon beaten down by the paddles with which they were armed. The danger was over, and the party returned with much merriment to the cave. The nest was taken out, laid upon a cloth, and the swathing of curled hay removed. This exposed a spherical cluster of oval- shaped cells about four inches in diameter. The cells were of various sizes ; the largest not more than three- fovirths of an inch long and one-half inch thick. They were made of tliin yellow wax covered with brown blotches, and were so tightly fastened to one another CA Vh-D WILLING INSEOTti. J59 ^#!^ FIG. 53. — CAVE AND CELL-NEST OF HUMBLE-BEES. by wax cement that they were separated with difficulty. Some of the cells were open ; most of them were closed. Of the latter some were filled with a number of small yellowish-white grubs of various sizes ; others contained but one grub each ; a large white one, which was doubtless a young princess in training for future queen- ship. IGO TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Here and there was a cell filled with yellow wax; and there were several small clusters of dirty graj- cells filled with honey. "Is that all there is of the nest?" asked Abby, Keally, I am disappointed. This doesn't compare with the honey-bee's comb for beauty of structure." " This is all ; certainly the architecture cannot com- pare with that of the honey-bee, but there is much to admire in it after all. The humble-bee is not a child of civilization, and its ruder craft is very well adapted to its wilder life." "Look at those cunning little bees," said the Mis- tress, "crawling over the cells. I suppose they are lately hatched and half-grown, and they don't seem to shun you at all ! Avhy is that ?" "You forget," I answered, "that there is no such thing as a half-grown bee except in the larval or grub condition. The larva; feed enormously, but when they pass into the pupal state and transform, they come out into the imago or perfect insect, full grown. There is no increase in stature after that. These white- headed forms which you have called ' half-grown ' are the small workers or minors. These, a size or two larger, are the male bees or drones. There is nothing very courageous in handling them, for they are stingless. Nature has left them absolutely Avithout means of of- fense and defense. " " Look at them !" cried Abby, indignantly. " They are crawling around and around over the broken cells lapping up the honey I Stingless, hey ? Lazy, greedy CA VE-DWELLING INSECTS. 161 FIG. 54.— THE DUDE OF THE BEEHIVE — POOK DRONE ! drones ! See, too, how bright, clean and pretty they look — a sort of apiarian ' dude,' I do declare !" " Come, come, Miss Abb}^" said the Doctor. " Every- thing after its kind, you know. Nature makes no mis- takes even in the creation of drones. CHAPTER X. THE HISTORY OF A HUMBLE-BEE. "I WONDER if we have killed the queen-hee ? Ah, no ! here she is, burrowed in the grass under the cells." Disturbed by my intruding finger the royal lady issued from her retreat, and began promenading the top of the cells with restless steps. She was at least three times as large as the nurse-bees, being fully an inch and a quarter long. She was an object of great interest to all our party, and as she at once set to work, quite oblivious of our presence, to straighten out the damage done to the cells, she received numerous com- pliments whose edge was greatly sharpened against the disparaging contrast with the unfortunate drones. " We are fortunate in possessing the queen," I re- marked. "We can now hive our colony and observe the bees' habits more closely." " Couldn't you have done that without the queen ?" asked Abby. "The colony might have kept together for a little while united in care of the grubs ; but the queen seems to be the bond of union with these insects. The whole life of the family centers upon the rearing and care of the young, to which duties the queen-mother is very necessary. Besides, I fancy that her experience, 162 THE nrSTORV OF A IIUMBLE-BEE. 163 energy and aid are important factors in leadership and labor for the mechanical duties of the family, such as excavating and upholstering the cave and building the cells. But you shall have a chance to observe these matters for yourselves presently." A rough hive was soon made as follows : One side of a small packing-box was filled with loose sods cut out in digging for the nest ; the other side was partly filled with soil, on which the cluster of cells was laid in the midst of its swathing of curled hay. A large pane of glass was laid atop of this, leaving openings for the bees to escape into the air. The hive was placed near the original site of the nest, and we stationed ourselves close by to watch. As the afternoon was now well ad- vanced some of the worker bees were coming home. They were utterly confused at not finding the gate of their nest, flew round and round, settled here and there in vain search and rose again to resume their restless circles. Not one entered the box until 1 finally re- moved the glass. In a few minutes thereafter half a dozen large workers, with the little bags upon their legs laden with yellow pollen, dropped into the nest and settled down beneath the cells without any sign appar- ent to us of excitement or surprise. Meanwhile, however, the queen was laboring with vast energy. She seized bits and bunches of the upholsteiy in her mandibles, and pulled and pushed Avith her feet Avith the intention of burying the cells. Small workers, nurses or "minor workers," about half the size of the queen, who differed from the major workers in size. 164 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. l)eiiig at least one-third smaller, followed the lead of the queen. There were few of them left, but they w^orked energetically. Then the big workers caught the infection. With the pollen still clinging to their legs, they laid heartily hold of the upholstery and dragged away along with the rest. They burrowed under the mass, and worked from beneath, pushing up the pliable fibres, pulling and tugging, scratching and kicking, the whole heap all the while gradually shifting toward and gathering around the cells. " Look at that bee !" said Abby. " What is it doing now ?" A large worker had climbed upon the fresh cut edge of the sods that filled one side of the box. It seized bits of soil with its jaws and cast doAvn pellets from the slope ; it grasped the fine rootlets that everywhere in- terlaced the sod and bit at them with great fury. "What can the creature mean? Is it insane with despair over the ruin of its home V Look ! there goes another one. It, too, has been seized with the rabies." A second bee had mounted the sod wall, and seizing upon the soil, cut out pellets with its mandibles until its head was buried. In went the short fore-feet, with which the insect dug like a dog in a rabbit-burrow. I took out m}' watch to time the insect miner, and in less than two minutes it had buried its entire body in the hole. (Fig. 55.) "Dear me!" exclaimed the Mistress. "There is energy for you ! That is certainly mining extraordinary. THE IirSTORY OF A IIUAfBLE-BEE. 165 FIG. 55. — HUMBLE-BEE UPHOLSTERY — WORKER BURROWING FOR ROOTLETS, AND QUEEN COVERING HER NEST. FROM NATURE. well envy such force and skill as these. What a pity it should be so ill employed, for this work seems utterly without purpose ; is it so ?" " Wait a whil6, " I answered. "Patience and watch- fulness solve many mysteries in the behavior of nature. I dare say we shall by-and-by find some reasonable issue to this work." So it proved ; for before the evening ended the mystery was disclosed. We discovered that the object of the bees was the garnering of the fine roots running through the sod. These were pulled out in quantities, raked down the slope by the hind feet, and added to the mass of upholstery. Next morning when I visited my hive I found the cells quite covered ; the summit of the 266 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. conical moiiiidlet thus formed was composed of fine fibres of the excavated rootlets, while the edges of the sod were stripped of the same. Cells, larvae, drones and queen were quite out of sight, buried and domiciled within the grassy mattress that bunched out above them. Here and there workers would push out their black heads from the mound, like boys playing hide-and- seek in a hay-mow, and pull them back again. Others would slowly scramble forth and busy themselves at tucking up the tufts of upholstery, or if my approach had been ungentle, would rise like alarmed sentinels and hum around the miniature hay-cock that held the treasures of their home. At several places in the mound the openings through which these bees came were well nigh formed into regular tubular gates by the compact- ing of the fibre. ''Come," said the Doctor, as we sat on the poi-ch after tea, enjoying the soft autumn evening, "we ought to round out our bee-hunting with the story of how a nest is founded. What say you, Mr. May field ?" " I am quite at your service, and the story is not long, though somewhat curious. At the end of fall nearly all the humble-bees die. The males invariably perish, but one or two of the females or young queens survive, and pass the winter in a state of hibernation. In early sjiring the queen awakes from her winter's sleep beneath the moss or leaves, or in deserted nests, or sheltered spots, such as hollow trees or hay-stacks. " She may then be seen prowling above the ground, settling here and there, and flying off again with a THE HISTORY OF A IIUMBLE-BEHJ. 10^ PIG. 56. — MATTKASS-MAKING. — " TUCKING UP THE TUFTS OF UPHOLSTERY." monotonous, steady hum. Her .secretiveness at this time is immensely developed, and the slightest suspicion of being watched will send her far off with an eager, angry flight. She will never dig an inch of soil as long as she sees any suspicious object, and will often make her way under a tuft of herbage, and remain there concealed until she fancies that danger has passed. "Her resting place is frequently selected in the abandoned nest of a field mouse ; sometimes beneath an old stump; sometimes, as with our nest, she sinks a tube directly into the sod, and avails herself of the burrow of a mole, either before or after, to secure entrance and exit to and from the cave which she di»s. 168 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Immediately she collects a small amount of pollen mixed with honey, and in this deposits from seven to fourteen eggs, gradually adding to the pollen mass until the first brood is hatched. "She does not wait for one brood to be hatched before laying the eggs for a second. The eggs are laid in con- tact with each other, in one cavity of the mass of pollen with a part of which they are slightly covered. As soon as the larvoe are capable of motion and commence feeding they eat the pollen, by which they are sur- rounded, and, gradually separating, push their way in various directions. Eating as they move, and increas- ing in size quite rapidly, they soon make large cavities in the pollen mass. When they have attained their full size they spin a silken wall about them, which is covered by the old bees (after the first brood has matured) with a tliin layer of wax, which soon becomes hard, forming the cells which we saw. The larvoe now gradually attain the pupa stage, and remain inactive until theii development. They then cut their way out, and are ready to assume their several duties and stations as workers, males or queens. As the colony grows the nest is rapidly enlarged, until in the early fall it has grown to the size which we saw. " In which estate." suggested Abby, " they are ready for the final and chief end of beehood — to yield a mo- mentary pleasure to a destructive boy armed with jugs, paddles and wisps of hay." " Or," I added, " to gratify the curiosity of a raiding naturalist and his friends." THE IIISTORY OF A IIUMBLE-BEE. 169 " Well answered, Miss Abby," said the Doctor, "for you and I mv jiarticcps criminis with the boj's and the naturalist, and arc estopped from all complaint. Why is it that the humble-bee is such an Ishmaelite among the insects ?" "But is he an Ishmaelite?" I responded. "He is doubtless an Adullamite — a cave-dweller and a sort of outlaw ; but while every man's hand appears to be against him, I cannot concede that his hand is against every man. lie is a peaceful, well-nigh harmless fel- low, and would do little damage were he let alone. When the scythe or mowing-machine rushes over his nest in the meadow-grass at hay-harvest, he makes a good deal of fuss, of course — as who would not under like circumstances ? Sometimes he inflicts a sting ; but these are not crimes sufficient to call down the univer- sal wrath of man. As for the few cells of honey in his nest, they alone would scarcely tempt even boyhood to the onset. It's a case of persecution, and I speak a good word for our wild friends — the Indians of the bee race. lam not even sure that the humble-bee is not belied as to its stinging propensity. At least I have at various times sat down by a nest, quietly thrust in my naked hand, removed the mattress and examined the interior at my leisure. The bees bustled out and buzzed around, but I sat perfectly still and received no harm." " Has the humble-bee any natural enemies ?" asked the Doctor. " Thank you for the suggestion — Yes ! There is one, at least, whom I am glad to classify with its human 170 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. foes — the skunk or pole-cat. It is not a very goodlj' fellowship, certainly, but that is the fact, boys and pole-cats are fellow-soldiers in their raids upon the humjjle-bee. The skunk hunts the nests, and teart? them up for the sake of the larvie particularly, of which it is very fond. The nests of yellow-jackets, which are also made on the ground, are raided in the same way 'by this animal." "Why don't the bees sting 'em olf?" asked Harry. " Doubtless, they do try ; but the assaults are usually by night when the insects are a little dazed, and before they can recover from their surprise the mischief is done. Besides, the fur jacket of the beast is a good jDro- tection against so short a sword as a bee-sting." "I should think," said Abby, "that the mere presence of such an ill-odored animal would suffice to disperse such respectable creatures as bees. Faugh !" "But then," I answered, joining in the laugh which followed the Schoolma'am's closing interjection, " you must remember that the skunk is not always mal- odorous. Like some unsavory human kind, of whom I wot, it is by no means ill-looking, and knows how to conceal its obnoxious traits. The powerful perfume which it carries in the little pouch which nature has provided for that purpose, and which is the animal's weapon of defence, would not be used against such in- significant assailants as bees. That is used for more formidable enemies, as man and dogs. Besides, I have known very fastidious gentlewomen who could pat and fondle the skunk's soft coat with great pleasure," THE HISTORY OF A HUMBLE-BEE. 171 "Oh, Mr. Ma3'field!" cried Abby, "You are surely joking with us ! How could they bear — " "Come, come, my dear.'" interposed the Mistress, who at once saw the point of my quizzing, "you quite forget that the fur of our unsavory friend has ])eeu lately much used for ladies' mufis." "I cry quarter!" exclaimed Abby, when the merri- ment had subsided, " I was fairly trapped. And now, as I am especially interested in changing the subject, please tell me how the skunk manages to get at the bees ? If the nests are all hidden like this one just dug out by us, with narrow approaches several feet under ground, it would be a heavy task to burrow to them." "I think I kin answer that question," Hugh res- ponded, " fer down in the meadows, and in the tussocks along the stream, you commonly tind 'em right on top uv the groun', in an old mouse nest, or a little hol- low half 's big as one's head. They build ther combs in these hollows, and cover 'em with ther little straw heaps, an' seem to git along right well. Uv course, the grass shelters 'em a good 'eal. I never seed a nest like this un in the yard, down ther. I think, however, them 's a differt sort o' bees from these uns, ain't the}- ? They 'pear bigger and yallerer." "You have observed quite accurately, Hugh. My friend, Mr. Ezra T. Cresson, tells me that there are more than forty species of humble-bee known to inhabit North America. I have heard countrymen call the spocies of which you speak the swamp-bee ; its scientific 172 THE HISTORY OF A IIUMBLE-BEE. 178 name is probably Bonibas scpanUns, Cresson. The spe- cies which we have been observing is Uombus vir- (jinicus. " While speaking of the enemies of the bees, we must not forget to mention the field-mice, Avho, although they yield nesting material to their wild insect friends, make ample reprisals by destroying the honeycombs. The late Mr. Darwin made a curious allusion to this fact in his book on the ■■' Origin of Species. '' We may infer, he says, as highly probable, that were the whole genus of humble-bees to become extinct or very rare in Eng- land, the heart's-ease and red clover (which they fertil- ize by carrying pollen from rtower to flower), would become verj' rare or wholly disappear. The number of humble-bees in any district depends in a great degree on the number of field mice which destroy their combs and nests; and Colonel Newman, who has long at- tended to the habits of humble-bees, believes that more than two-thirds of them are thus destroyed all over England. Now, the number of mice is largely de- pendent, as every one knows, on the number of cats. Colonel Newman says that near villages and small towns he has found the nests of humble-bees more numerous than elsewhere— a fact which he attributes to the number of cats that destroy the mice. Hence it is quite credible that the presence of a feline animal in large numbers in a district might determine, through the intervention first of mice and then of bees, the fre- quency of certain flowers in a district ! I do not know whether the above curious chain of facts holds equally 174 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. good in America as in England ; but it probably obtains to some extent, at least." "Blessings on poor Tabby!" exclaimed the Mistress, stroking the sleek fur of the tine Maltese cat that lay purring in her lap. "Here is another to add to the list of your domestic virtues — we owe to you our beautiful red clover fields !" " Yes," said Abby ; "but don't forget to dispense a little gratitude to the poor humble-bee, who is the principal benefactor, after all. I shall tell these strange news to my farmer lads, and try to persuade them against persecuting so useful a friend. But the average schoolboy, I fear, is proof against persuasion when a humble-bee's nest is in question." "Perhaps," I suggested, "schoolboys are natural checks upon the undue increase of the insects, just as cats are upon mice. But let us take up again the con- struction of the bee's nest, whose description we had not quite completed. Hugh spoke about meadow bees weathering the season very well without any covering but the straw-heap and the overhanging herbage. There is something more than this. Do you notice in the nest which we excavated that a slight shell or casing at the right side of the cells was formed be- tween the cells and the outside upholstery ? This is made by spreading a coating of wax on the inside of the mat, which hardens around the straws and forms about the cells a waterproof envelope. The mattress may be removed from this without breaking it, leaving the cells quite inclosed by it. This is doubtless a valu- FIG. 58.— CUUTAIN OF WAX-WORKERS (AFTER RENNIE.) 17.5 176 TENANT.^ OF AN OLD FARM. able protection against the rain." (See Fig. 53, chap, ix.) "Where do the bees get this wax ?" asked Joe. "A proper question, certainly ; I wonder it has not been asked before. The bee secretes the wax from its own body. On the imder side of the abdomen are six little flaps, not unlike pockets, the covers of which can be easily raised with a pin. Under these flaps is secreted the wax, which is produced in tiny scales or plates, and may be seen projecting from the flaps like little half- moon-shaped white lines. A scale of wax is drawn out from the abdominal ring by pincers fixed at the joint of one of the hind pair of legs, and is carried to the mouth. It is there worked up by the mandibles and tongue, and undergoes some important change. When secreting the wax the wax-workers of the honey-bees, at least, have a curious habit of hanging in a chain-like cluster, holding fast one another's legs. This is called a curtain. Plenty of food, quiet and warmth are necessary for the production of wax, and as it is secreted very slowly, it is extremely valuable and used with great economy. Hoio wax is formed within the body of the bee I cannot explain any more than I can tell how the liquid silk is produced Avithin the spider's silk glands. The Author of Nature has endowed these creatures with such gifts and the power to use them — I go no further. But it is a wonderful substance ; soft enough, when warm, to be kneaded and spread like mortar, and hard enough when cool to bear the weioht of brood THE lIlSTOliY OF A IWMBLE-BEE. 177 aiul honey. Moreover, it is of a texture so close that tlie honey cannot soak through the delicate walls o\ the cells, which are perfect, natural honey-pots. " Tell me something," said the Mistress, " of the way in which bees gather honey. I have often seen them humming around and diving into flowers, but they move so rapidly that I could never fairly observe their behavior." " It is done in this way : the bee has at the end of its face a long, hair-clad pro- boscis or tongue which it inserts into the recesses of flowers, brushes out the nectar, passes the laden tongue through its jaws, (Fig. 59) scrapes ofi" the sweet liquid and swallows it. Just within the ab- domen the fesophagus ex- pands into a little sac called the crop or 'honey bag/ and into this the nectar is passed. If the bee wants to eat, it opens a minute valve which divides the crop from the stomach, which is just beyond it, and lets out enougli to satisfy its hunger. As long as the valve is closed the nectar ac- cumulates, and when the crop is filled the bee flies home and regurgitates the collected sweets into one of the FIG. 59. — FACE OF UlTMBLE- bee, showing tongue, (from nature.) 178 TEN ANT IS OF AN OLD FARM. honey cells. The liquid enters the crop as nectar ; it comes out honey — by what process is a secret, even to the bee !" " I don't quite understand that," said Harry. " Then let me try to illustrate." I took from the table a drop tube or pipette, such as is commonly used by apothecaries and microscopists. It is simply a glass tube narrowed at one end and inserted into an india- rubber bulb. Pressing the bulb between finger and thumb, I plunged the tip into a tumbler of water, which as the i^ressure was removed rushed in and filled the pipe. "Observe no \y what happens," I said, holding aloft the charged pipette ; " when I press upon this bulb every movement of my thumb and finger forces a drop of the liquid to gather at the nozzle of the pipette and finally to drip aAvay. Do you understand how that happens, Harry ?" "Yes, sir, I think I do," rejoined the lad. "Wen you sqeezes agin' the rubber bulb it presses on the air inside, and that pushes agin the water in the pipe and forces it out of the nozzle." " That's quite plain ; is it ?" "Yes, sir ; quite." " Very well, then ; let us suppose that this nozzle is the bee's mouth ; this glass tube the bee's esophagus, through which the nectar passes into this rubber bulb, which we will call, if you please, the honey-crop, l^ow our bee has a full crop and wants to get it emptied into the honey-cell. All she has to do is to squeeze the crop tightly enough." THE UlSTOliY OF A IIUMIILE-RKE. 179 MliS. BUMBLE FILLS THE HONEY JARS. "Does she do it with her paws?" ex- claimed the lad, his face all aglow with the interest and excitement of his new thoughts. "Not quite that, Harry," I' replied, smiling; "but that 's the principle. Instead of squeezing the crop with her hands, she causes the muscles which surround it to contract, and that presses tightly upon it. Just as my hand is opened and shut at once by certain muscles that expand and contract — thus ! — so the bee's crop is pushed together and tilled out again by the muscles that surround it. Now, suppose my fingers to represent those muscles ; they tighten upon the crop — so ! (squeez- ing the bulb), and then what happens?" 180 TENANTS OB AN OLD FARM. " I see it '."exclaimed Harry. " The honey is squeezed into the tube, and up, up, till it comes out uv the noz — the mouth, I mean — just like the water-drojps. I understand, truly !" " Does all honey go through that process — down the bee's throat and up again ?" asked Abby. " All genuine honey docs. But over-fastidious people can find plenty of the counterfeit article. Though I am no wise certain that they will find anything that goes through a process of manufacture as thoroughly clean and wholesome as the original." ''We have had so many wonders this evening," said the Doctor, "that I am doubtful if we can in- wardly digest much more ; but there is one point further that I would like you to clear up for me. What is the bee-basket in which the pollen is carried home ?" f<#^fe^ FIG. 61. — THE BEE BASKET (FROM NATURE.) "I'd like to know 'bout that myself," said Hugh. "I've often heerd bee-raisers talkin' uv the 'basket,' and one day tried to study it out from some dead bees. THE HISTORY OF A HUMBLE-BEK. 181 But nary liaskct could I see nuther on head ur tail ur back. That 's alius been a myste'y to me." " Very well, then, my good fellow, I promise that you shall understand it this time. You all remember that I called your attention to the fact that some of the humble-bees that came in when we were hiving our captured nest had large balls of flower dust or pol- len on their hind-legs." " Yes, we remember that," answered Aliby. " Some of them were yel- low, others whitish and gray. Was that pollen ?" " That was pollen, and a brown, resinous substance called propolis, more tena- cious and extensible than wax, and well adapted for cementing and varnishing. Here are several dead bees which I will pass around the circle. Now let us turn to our manilla ' black-board ' on the table while I draw, much enlarged, one of those hind-legs. The shin or middle portion, you see, is flat, of a triangular shape, is smooth, shining and slightly hollowed on the outer side. This horn-like substance forms the FIG. 63. — niND LEG OF A WORKING HUMBLE-BEE, TO snow THE BASKET. (from nature.) 182 THE niSTORT OF A IIUMBLE-BEE. 183 bottom of the basket. Around the edges of this plate are placed rows of strong, thickly-set, long bristles, which curve inward. These are the Avails of the basket, and there ! we have the structure quite com- plete. Now take this pocket-lens and tell me if you see the basket upon those specimens of bees." The Mistress and Abby, the Doctor and Hugh — all succeeded in making out the much talked of receptacle, and the rest were contented with the rough drawing. " But how does the bee get her materials into her bas- ket ?" asked the Doctor. "Ah, I was prepared to hear that. The material is collected gradually with the mandibles, from which the short fore-legs gather it. Hence it is passed backwai'd to the middle-legs by a series of multiplied scrapings and twistings which I can't pretend to detail. In the same way it is sent back once more to the hind-leg, and is scraped and patted into the basket, where it is secured from falling out by the walls of bristles whose elasticity will even allow the load to be heaped beyond their points without letting it fall. When the busy harvester has gathered as much as her basket will convenientl)' hold, she flies away home and empties her load by a reversal of the process which filled it. In this work, however, she is often aided by her fellow-workers." " I believe," said the Doctor, " that I better under- stand now the force of the verse concerning the bee which has crept into the Septuagint version of Proverbs, sixth chapter and eighth verse. This version was made from the Heln-ew for the Groek-speakiug Jews of Alex- 184 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. aiidria, but the verse has not been found, I bcUeve, in the original text. It runs thus : " Go to the bee and learn how diligent she is and what a noble work she produces, whose labors kings and private men use for their health ; she is desired and honored by all, and though weak in strength, yet since she values wisdom, she prevails." I suppose some bee-loving rabbi must have felt jealous of the prominence given to the ant by the Wise King and added a comment which future gen- erations felt bound to accept as good Scripture. At all events, it is good sense." "And yet," remarked Abby, "when a man lacks wisdom, is a bit hair-brained and visionary, we say that he has a ' bee in his bonnet.' How is that ?" "It is inconsistent enough," replied the Doctor; " Init oiu- Scotch friends are responsible for the proverb. I suppose it is a case of giving one a character from a single quality, and that by no means truly cliaracteris- tic. Certainly, I at least shall think of something more than mere 'buzzing' when I remember the bee." The full moon had now risen, and its silver light could be seen in the distance shimmering upon the iH'oad Delaware and the Jersey coast beyond. The Doctor had declined our invitation to spend another night with us, and made ready to return to Marple. Followed bv cordial good-byes, the good man, with his old carry-all and chestnut-bay horse, drove away under the moonlight, and the farm-house settled down to rest. CHAPTER XI. INSECT ENGINEERING— BllIDGE BUILDING AND BALLOONING SPIDEKS. October is the golden month of the American calen- dar. There is an inde.scri])able mellowness in the atmosphere, as though the year had centered all the luscious fruitage of her ripening upon this halcyon season. The air is warm, but crisp with ozone. At times the sky is clear as in midwinter ; again the land- scape is wrapped in a soft haze through which distant objects loom with indistinct outlines like the remem- bered objects of one's dream. All healtliful life in Nature finds a joy in veiy being, none the less because there hangs upon all things a prophetic tone of coming dissolution. The melancholy days are not yet quite " come," but are coming, and are near. The leaves are adding to their summer green the first tints of russet, yellow, and scarlet that shall by-and-by enfold them in their dying glory. The insect-world is still full of life ; but already in many species motherhood has paid to posterity the last pcnaltj^of Nature, and in many others the reservoirs of life are running low. But the waning and the waxing of life go on together. Parents are dying, but children are gaining in vigor. Multitudes 12 185 186 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. have been seized by the strange instinct of migration, and are being swept by its resistless force into tlie cur- rents of a new and independent existence. And thereby hangs the tale which this chapter is in part to unfold. On such a morning as I have described Dan entered the kitchen precincts with a rueful face. " Wat's the matter ?" asked Sarah sharply. "You look like the final judgment had come. Is your olc woman dead, or 've ye lost yowv 'baccy pouch ?" " Dar's no 'casion for levity, Sairy Ann," said the old man solemnly. ''T'ings 's bad null", and y '11 see it byne by." " Goody gracious me ! Do speak up, man, and let 's know the wust on 't at wanst ! AV'at 's happened V "Wy sumfin mighty awful 's happen'd. I cl'ar to goodness dat Mars Mayfield's done gone — cl'ar — crazy!" Dan lowered his voice, and spoke in a husky sort of a growl which he doubtless meant for a whisper. "Crazy?" screamed Sarah. "Watouairth — " She stopped short in her sentence, for at that moment the Mistress entered the room. She had heard the ominous word on Sarah's lips and saw the terrified look upon both countenances. Her face blanched, and she sank into a chair overcome by an indefinable dread of some unknown peril. Her thoughts had run directly to her husband, who an hour or more ago had gone into the fields. Many readers will sympathize with the Mis- tress, though none, perhaps, can give any better reason than she why such unreasonable anticipations of evil to INISMCT ENGINEERING. 187 the best beloved should iucvital)ly arise on occasions of sudden alarm. The Mistress is not a woman to give Avay long before an unseen trouble. In a moment she had rallied, and demanded the cause of the excitement which she had witnessed. Dan dofted his hat, thrust his great gaunt hands through his matted hair, and began a stammering ex- planation. " W'y — w'y, you see, Miss MayfieP, I war gwine froo de meadow while ago, and I sees Mars' MaydeP out dar standin' by de fence-pos'. He had 'is little spy- glass'n 'is 'an, and wur a-spyin' somethin' 'r odder. Jes den—" The Mistress started to her feet. "Has he been hurt y Tell me !" "Hurt ? No, miss, not a' tall ; nuffin 'v the kin', I do shore you. 'Z I Avur sayin', jes den I seed 'im jump de fence like a wiP colt an' break off ober de meadow like mad. He ran back and forrud, zigzaggin' across de fieP in de mos' cur'us way. Den he stopped stock still, and went back to de fence and spied at an- other pos', and off he goes ag'in like mad — " The old man emphasized the last word, cast a pecu- liarly sad look toward the Mistress, and then Avent on, with the circumlocution which his tender heart had suggested : "Off he shoots agin, I say, jes like mad, and goes froo wunst more dem wild zigzaggin' motions. I stood 'n watched 'im a w'ile, and then, clar to goodness. 188 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Misses, I done got right siclc a seein' poor Mars' May- fiel' tuk that a-way — so cur'us lilie — 's tho' lie'd done loss 'is senses, and so I jes come straight home, and — " "Oh, fudge!" The Mistress brol^e in abruptly upon Dan's story. Her face had undergone a sti'ange transformation as the narrative proceeded. Its whiteness slowly flushed into crimson ; its lines of anxiety gradu- ally relaxed into curves of mirthfulness. Tlien came an(jther change — tears mounted to the e3'es, and, as they trickled out upon the cheeks, Dan had reached the climax of his story, and the good woman broke out into her hysterical cry of mingled anger, amusement and joy. Without another word she turned and left the kitchen, leaving Dan overwhelmed with amazement. " Lawh bress yer, honey!" he said at last. "De news 's been too much for her. It 's done turned her own head, too !" Sarah was not much clearer than Dan in her view of the situation ; but she saw, at least, that tlie old ser- vant had made some sort of a mistake. She, therefore, came to his relief in her usual sharp way. " There, Dan ! Go 'long, now, to your work. You've been makin' a fool 'v yorself agin', 's usual. An' w'at's wuss, you 've gi'en the Mistress a powerful bad skeer. Purty feller you are, makin' out that your betters is crazy ! I reckon you 're an old crank yourself, an' orter been sent to the 'syluni long ago. Go 'long, now, to your work !" The irate cook flourished her pan so vigorously that mtiECT ENGINEERING. 189 Dan thought \\vv a(lvic(>, was wortli heeding, and walked oil' slowly, shaldng his head, and muttering " 'Bout half dc worP is half cracked, anyhow, an' dat ole Sairy, de cook is de wuss one among 'em." This is the story that the Mistress had to tell when we had drawn up our chairs to the sitting-room table for the weekly conversation about our insect Tenants. The subject was Insect Engineering, and some of my field studies of the feronautic flight of spiders, by way of preparation for our talk, had beeii the cause of Dan's alarm. "Well, Dan," I said, for the old man was at his chosen seat on the cricket bj^ the inner door, and appeared to enjoy the Mistress's account of his blunder as much as the rest of us, "you 're not so much to blame after all. I can easily think that the strange attitudes of an entomologist, while in hot pursuit of his flxvorite study, would appear to persons who know nothing of his tastes and habits like the wild behavior of a madman. Besides, it is not the first time that I have been tliought a little unsound on account of my natural history studies. Years ago when I first began to follow my specialties with some zeal, our good Mistress there — as she afterwards told me^spent many days in anxiety, and passed many hours in tears over what she supposed a development of insanity. " "Why, Mrs. Mayfield," exclaimed Abby, "could you have been so foolish V" "It was even so," wife answered, "and the recollec- tion of that fact proved a great comfort to me this 190 INSECT ENGINEERING. 191 morning ; for it helped me to interpret the behavior that led Dan quite astray." "lam reminded," I remarked, "of an incident re- lated to me by Professor Hayden of the Geological Sur- vey. One day while engaged in geological studies on the great American plains, he found himself widely separated from his part}-, and started out in search of it. Presently, the outlines of human forms appeared upon the horizon, and thinking them to be his friends he turned his steps toward them. As he drew nearer he perceived that they were a band of Indians. Greatly alarmed, for there were hostile tribes in the vicinity, he turned and fled. But the Indians already had seen him. At best he was no match in speed for them, but he was now weighted down with specimens of various rocks and fossils, and Avas soon overtaken and surrounded. He was bidden to dismount, and immediately the savages, who had also dismounted, began to strip him of his personal possessions. Knife, hammer, watch, disap- peared. Then the red hands were plunged into his pockets and withdrawn full of— stones ! Again and again this was repeated ; pockets, pouch, saddle-bags, all were emptied, and, as the pile of rocks grew upon the ground beside him, his plunderers broke into a loud laugh. Then they looked at him carefully, touched their fore- heads significantly, as much as to say "he is crazy," and with that strange reverence for the insane, which characterizes our American Indians, they respectfully returned to him all his goods, mounted their broncos and rode away. I suspect that the savages are not 192 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. the only persons who reason that one who can devote himself to collecting "rocks and bugs " is crazy. Tor ni}' part, I have about concluded that I was much nearer perfect sanity in the days spent as a naturalist than afterward, when breaking down my health by hard work in collecting a fortune." "But tell us," asked Abby, "what you were doing in the meadow when Dan saw you. I don't wonder, if his description is correct, that he did think you a little ' cur'us.' " "Dan's description," I replied, laughing, "was a very good one, from the standpoint of an outside observer. The explanation is this : I had stationed myself by the fence to watcb the ' flying spiders ' as they are popularly called. This has been a golden day for the young balloonists, and they have been improving it finely. As I walked out this morning I saw long, white filaments of silk streaming from fence-posts, tall stalks of grass, clumps of weeds, shrubs, almost every elevated object in the fields. I knew by this token that the balloonists were abroad and busy. As I passed the llun I saw just at the point where it widens into the little pool an object of great beauty. It was a tiny and deli- cate, but perfect and quite strong suspension bridge." (Fig. C4.) "A bridge!" exclaimed Abby. "It is some of Harry's work, I warrant. lie is the handiest boy in school with his jack-knife, and beats even our New England- lads, which is saying a good deal." I smiled and glanced at Harry, whose face colored mSECT ENGmEERINO. 193 under his pai'tial teacher's praise. '' Well, my boy, what say you V Was it your work V "I^o, sir; 1 uever ! I've got a ' tiutter wheel' up there by the riffles, but uary Ijridge. 1 dunuo who did it at all." " I quite believe you, Harry. Let me show you how the bridge was made, aud that will help us to tind the architect." In lieu of a blackl)oard I had provided a package of wide Manilla wrappiug-paper and crayons. These served admirably for the rude outline sketching, by which I hoped in future to make our conversations somewhat more interesting to a mixed compau}^, such as ours. '^ Here is the run ; on this clump of cat-tails was fixed one of the anchorages ; on the opposite bank, a-top of this cluster of flags, was the other abutment. Here from side to side was stretched a foundation line, and just below it another." "•"What sort of stuif were the}- made of?" asked Hugh Bond. "To be sure, I should have mentioned that before. They were silken lines. Between the tw^o, near the middle point, was constructed a series of truss-like sup- ports, something like this." The family group had gathered al)out the table, and bent over, eagerly watching the movements of my ]ien- cil. Before I had finished tlie sketch two or three voices exclaimed in chorus : " A spider's web ?" 194 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Yes, the snare of an orb-weaving spider. That is the suspension bridge which attracted my attention this morning, and I certainly think it a very pretty and in- genious one. A little further down the stream where the bank rises higher and is crowned on either side with sumach and blackberry vines, another orb-weaver had stretched her cables, and when I first noticed her was running along one line toward the center. She hung, head downward, and moved one leg after another in a hand-over-hand sort of way. When she reached the middle point of the line, she began spinning a round web like this which I have drawn." " How did she git those lines across the run ?" asked Hugh ; " that puzzles me. She didn't swim across with it, I reckon ? Though I have seed spiders swim- min' or runnin' on the water." "Not this kind, Hugh. Our spider laid the main cables of her bridge in a quite diiferent way. The fact is she proceeded much in the manner of Charles Ellet, the engineer who built the first suspension bridge over Niagara river in 1840. The first difficulty to be over- come was to get a string across the chasm. A reward of five dollars was offered for the first string lauded on the opposite shore and this brought a host of kite-flyers to the scene. The kites fluttered like a flock of birds across the whirling flood and soon entangled on the bank beyond. The first string thus stretched, a wire was next drawn across, and heavier wires in succession fol- lowed until the great foundation cables were laid at length, and thence the weaving of the substantial wire INSECT ENGINEERING. 195 FIG. 65.— KITING THE CATARACT. bi idi^e became comiiara- tively ea.sy." (Fig. G5.) " You don't mean to tell US that spiders really fly kites?" asked Abliy rather doubtiugly. " "Well, it amounts about to that ; although, properly speaking, they fly cords instead of kites. As a rule, there is no object at the end of their lines which corre- sponds to the kite itself, although I have sometimes seen even that closely represented by broadened bits of silk, hammock-shaped ribbon, attached to the filaments spun out by orb-weavers when preparing for a?ronautic flight. However, the principle upon which a spider stretches her bridge-lines across a stream, or practices ballooning, is precisely that upon which American boys and Chinese men fly their kites ; so that the engineer of 196 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. the Niagara bridge and the spider-engineer of tlie silken bridges overTownes' Run operated upon the same prin- ciiDle." "But tell us how it was done," said Abby. "I haven't the most remote idea how such a creature can fly either a ' kite ' or a ' string, ' much less how it can go 'ballooning.' " " I will do so, and that brings me to the starting point of Dan's morning experience. When he saw me I was standing by a fence-post watching a small saltigrade spider mount into the air. Its head was toward the wind, its eight feet spread out in a circle, its abdomen turned in the direction of the wind and elevated about 45°. From the little rosette of spinning mammals at the end of the abdomen issued several very delicate fila- ments which were caught by the breeze and floated u])ward to the length of several feet. The legs of the animal gradually bent backward and downward, and then — pop ! with a quick vault the wee creature was off" and away. (Fig. 66.) "I leaped the fence, followed at full speed, trying to keep my eyes upon the reronaut, which, of course, at times compelled me to run back and forth, and at zig- zag, as Dan put it, over the meadow. This had to be repeated with a nvimber of specimens ; but in the coui'se of the morning I succeeded in confirming and complet- ing observations which I had made years ago." "But, tell us," Abby asked, "how the spiders got started in their flight over the meadow, and what that has to do with your suspension bridges V" IN8EC2 ENGINEEBING. 197 '/ ''^M^\ :#--* /( FIG. 66.— BALLOONING OR FLYING SPIDEKS. " Pardon me. I h.ad taken too much for granted, I see. The spider, cUnghig to the post, sets its spinning apparatus in operation ; the liquid silk, as it issues from silk glands through the many tiny tubes on the spin- nerets, is immediately hardened at contact with the air, is caught by the wind and drawn out into long threads. Presently enough thread is spun out to overcome by its 198 TENANTS OF AN OLD FABJr. buoyancy the weight of a spider, precisely as the buoy- ancy of a balloon overcomes the weight of the aeronaut and his car, and permits them to ascend into and float upon the air. At that moment, which the spider re- cognizes by the upward traction of the threads, she leaps up and is carried off in the direction of the Avind. Immediately after mounting she turns around, grasps her thread-balloon with her feet, spins out a little Imsket or mesh of connecting lines which her feet clasp, and then emits from her spinnerets another pencil of deli- cate threads. She now rides on a tiny net, hung ])ack downward between the two long, floating filaments, and is carried before the wind 'where it listeth,' until the balloon strikes and entangles upon bush, tree, or other elevated object, when she dismounts and sets up housekeeping for herself." " Have the spiders any control of their own descent ?" asked Abby, "or are they wholly dependent upon the action of the wind ?" " I should have answered, before this morning, that they are entirely at the mercy of the Avind. But I have now seen that which changes my opinion. One of the balloonists whom I carefully observed to-day, secured its own descent by gradually drawing in the floating lines until they gathered in a minute white pellet above the mandibles. As the lines shortened the buoyancy decreased, the weight of the spider yielded to gravitation, until gradually she was drawn to the ground and alighted on the grass. If this observation shall be confirmed as a truly typical one, we must concede INSECT ENGINEERING. 199 FIG. 67. —BALLOONING SPIDER PUEPARING TO ASCEND. that the Uttle arancad produces, by lengthening htt hnes, a result similar to that of the human aeronaut who throws out his ballast of sand ; and, by gathering in the lines, accomplishes what ballooning man performs when he pulls the valve and permits the gas to escape." " To return to our bridge. The orbweaver when 200 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. building a snare proceeds, in the main, after the manner of the ballooning saltigrade. She stations herself upon a leaf or branch, or top of a twig, opens her spinnerets and emits a thread which the Avind takes up and carries out until it entangles on some adjacent object. At other times she drops from her perch, spinning after her a thread, to the end of which she hangs in a little meshed basket rapidly woven. "While sAvinging in this position she emits her trial lines as before, " Now, let us suppose our orbweaver seated upon this tall cat-tail, seeking to make her web (Fig. 67). The wind blows straight across the Run, and carries out her thread. It catches upon the opposite clump of Hags, a fact which the engineer at once perceives, and draws the line taut. She pulls upon it with her feet to test it, then ven- tures upon it, and rapidly runs across, dragging after her a second cord, which unites with and strengthens the first. " I chanced to be in N'ew York when Farrington, the engineer, made the first voyage upon the initial cables of the Brooklyn bridge across the East River, and, upon invitation of a friend, went down to witness the transit. As I watched the bold fellow hung far aloft and moving above the sea waves beneath, I was so forcibly re- minded of this behavior of my spider friends which I have just been describing, that I could not forbear pointing out the likeness to my frtend, a distinguished engineer, ver}^ much to his disgust (Fig. 68.) "The cable which the spider has thus formed is strengthened by several overlays, made in successive INSECT ENGINEERING. 201 j: ^ c <; H& 6S — THE ORIGINAL BROOK- LIXE BRIDGr — " ENGINEER ARAfllNr MVKES THE FIR'ack to their dens and tents in crannies under the mouldings. Your men brush down their webs — that's all ! The spiders weave them next morning, quite un- ARGONAUT AND GEOMETER. 229 conconu'd, aiul :<() the year weai"s on. They even breed ou your yaclil, I tind, and have probably been suc- ceeded by their offspring in tliis ' life on the ocean wave.' " '"Well, well,' said the skipper, 'that's a kind of stowaway I never heard of before. I shall know now how to make a clean sweep of them hereafter ; but, really, I don't know that I shall do so, for such cute little beggars are almost entitled to a free passage.' "'True enough.' I replied, 'and, moreover, they quite earn their way by ridding the vessel of more objectionable entomological passengers, wIkj arc popu- larly supposed to have free lodgings on water craft !' "'Oh! as to that,' was the quick resjjonse, 'we don't have any such shipmates aboard this boat !' " CHAPTER XIII. A BATTLE, A CONQUEST AND A NIGHT-KAID. — THE CUTTING-ANT OF TEXAS. The morning followiag our last conversation ^\•as one of rare excitement at tlie old farm. One of our most esteemed household pets is Dolf, the dog. He is a cross between a bulldog and a shepherd, is an admirable watchdog, a devoted friend and follower of his master, and has conceived a warm attachment for the 8chool- ma'am. As to the rest of the household, and visitors generally, he is kind enough, or rather harmless by reason of supreme indifterence. However, he has an hiextinguishable jealousy of those of his own kind who may enter upon what he considers his lawful domain. I was, therefore, not so much surprised as agitated to hear issuing from the front porch that peculiar com- bination of sounds — snarling, snapping, yelping, tear- ing, scratching, wrestling — which accompanies a dog- fight. I was engaged at the time in the back yard, with Penn Townes, a thrifty young farmer and de- scendant of Jane Townes, the pioneer, who had ridden over from his neighboring place on some matter of business. Unfortunately his dog had accompanied him, a fact which I had not observed until the clamor on the front porch aunoimced it. I rushed to the scene of 230 THE CUTTING-ANT OF TEXAS. 231 battle, picking up a croquet mallet as I ran. Young Townes tbllowed, armed with his riding-whip. The discords of the light grew fiercer, and then for a moment ceased at the sound of a woman's voice, heard above the din in sharp command. ISIy heart leaped to my throat. What woman could be sio liardy as to interfere in such a conflict ? We turned the corner of the house, and saw Abby Bradford standing between the two dogs. She had grasped them by the leather collars around their necks, and held them aloof by main strength. The animals st(X)d at full height upon their hind-legs, and struck at and struggled to reach each other with their forepaws and fangs. They were face to face, with glaring eyes and foaming mouths, while horrible growls issued from between their Avhite teeth. It was a splendid sight : the maiden's erect form whose every muscle was swollen In^ the effort to hold the fierce beasts at ba}^ crowned by the pale face, set with the intensitj' of emotions, under whose play every feature was illumined with new beauty. It is strange how a human face lights up and transforms under the agitations of a high and courageous deed ! I have never seen a sharper and more significant contrast between the moral faculties as represented by man, and the animal passions characteristic of the brutes, than that exhibited- by the tableau Avhich came into view that morning as we entered the front yard — those ram- pant and angiy dogs struggling in the hands of that brave, comely young woman ! 233 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. This thought was involuntary and instantaneous. It was as fully rounded before my mind in that moment, while rumiing in full heat, as now, while I quietly write nnder the shadow of my tent-studio beneath green trees. But there was no delay in action ; indeed there was need of haste, for the large animals, doubly strengthened by their anger, had well-nigh exhausted Abl)y's strength, and were once more striking each other with their fangs. She relinquished her hold, and between whip and mallet the young farmer and I parted the dogs at last, and Dolf was sent growling to his kennel. Then we turned to Abby, who, meanwhile, had stood intermingling with the angry shouts of the men and the yelps of the dogs, earnest pleas that the poor brutes should not be injracd. "Are you hurt?" I asked. "Why, no! Tlmt is, I think not. Keally, I hadn't thought of thai. But I am not sure." She lifted her liind ; it was covered with blood from a cruel wound in the thumb. "Ah, I remember now. It was Dolf who bit me ; but he didn't mean it, poor fellow ! He loves me too well for that. I don't think I am much hurt." "Not hurt, honey?" cried old Dan, who had just arrived panting and excited. "Not hurt ?" throwing up his hands and showing the whites of his e3'es ; " look at dat blood den ! Drat dat ole dorg ! He'd orter be massacreed, chawin' on sich a lily ban' as dat ! Hoi' on dar a minit ; I'll fix dat bleedin'." He ran to the arbor vitte hedge, wliere numbers of THE CUTTING-ANT OF TEXAS. 233 the specked Tube weaver (^bjakiia )((x'f/(() yearly ^piu their broad suaretf, and scooped up several ol' the sheeted webs. " Hole up dat hau' now, honey ; cobwebs is famous for stoppiu' blood. DisUl do it shore ! Uoan you ■worry now. Ole Dau'U make it all right. L)ar uow, dat'U do." As he cooed on in this wa}' he applied the web like a plaster to the torn flesh. His rough surgery was hap- pily successful in stanching the blood. By this time the whole family had assembled, Abljy herself being far the least agitated of the group. Such home remedies as were available were applied to the wound, and Joe was posted ofl" for the doctor. The household was imanimous in upbraiding the bold girl for her act, and just as unanimous in admiration of her courage. No one was more enthusiastic in praise than Penu Townes. " It was the pluckiest thing I ever saw," he averred, " whether done l)y man or woman." He was sincere in regrets and apologies for his own share in the misfortune by allowing his dog to follow him, and rode home evidently much disturbed. This is how our Schoolma'am and Farmer Townes became acquainted, and it thus happened that two new members were introduced to our family conversations. On the evening of the accident Penn calleSUile lo malie some studies upon a certain ant." ''Does thee mean to say," interrupted Aunt Han- nah, "tliat tliee went all that distance, two thousand miles, just to study a single insect ?" "Certainly he did," the Mistress answered, "in the blazing heat of summer, too. He lived like an Indian, worked like a negro, spent no one knows how much money for traveling, outfit, wages, etc., then fell to work and wrote and published his book at his own ex- pense, all for the sake of one miserable little ant that stings like a wasp, and is a nuisance in Texas harvest fields. You wouldn't ask such a question, Aunt Han- nah, if you knew tlie naturalists better. Why, they are the veriest race of Paul Prys I ever saw. Talk about the curiosity of women ! I don't believe tliere's a woman in Christendom that would go through so much labor, danger and expense just to peek and pry into the secrets of an ant-hill. But, there ! Excuse me, dear. I fear this is an outbreak of the old- fashioned prejudice. You know I am now only too happy to see you Inisy among your bugs." The company had a hearty laugh at the Mistress's somewhat vivid portraiture of a naturalist, in which I joined with zest. "I shaU not be offended," I said, "at such good- natured truth-telling as that. I assure you that I think none the less of myself for that old-time infatua- tion. Moreover, I cordially agree with the conclusion of the matter. Men are more curious than women 336 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. many times over. I have often said it, and for that very reason have maintained that the sterner sex will always be the superior naturalists. But a truce with this ! We are making' no progress with our story. " I made my camp in a mesquit grove on the plateau of Barton Creek, a branch of the Colorado, a few miles beyond Austin, not far from the government trail to San Antonio. Here I found the insects which I sought in abundance, and spent several weeks studying them. But I shall not speak of tliem now. I found also another interesting species, the Cutting or Parasol Ant, whose habits I investigated. They furnish a remark- alile example in one insect of both the cave-dwelling and engineering habit of which we have been recentlj* conversing. In the first place Ave want to make the ac- quaintance of the ant itself. In this box, which I have had sent me from my collection in the Academy of Natural Sciences, are pinned specimens of the various castes or forms that may be found in one of the Cuttiug- Aut nests. " Is it possible that these are ants ?" cried Abby, as the box was opened. "Why they are larger than a bumble-bee." " Yes, these largest forms are the females or 3'oung queens, the next in size are the males. These wingless fellows with the large heads are the soldiers, and others, running down through several forms to these tiny creatures no l)igger than our little brown garden ant, are the workers. This difference in size among the individual castes of one species, in one common domi- THE CUTTING- ANT OF THXAS. 2:57 FIG. 78. — WINGED FEMALE, MALE, SOLPIEK AND WORKER- MAJOR OF fUTTIXG-AXT {Atta fcrvrns). cile, is one of the most ciu'ious facts in natural his= toiy/' "A wonl about tliese winged ants?" asked Abby. "I do not quite understand. I liave often heard people speak of a winged ant as though it were a special kind. But j'ou speak of winged and unAvinged forms in tlie one nest. Please explain.'' '' The males and young females of ants are always winged. In this respect they resemble their hymen- opterous allies, the bees and wasps. When thej' are 238 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. matured, they swarm or go forth on their marriage tiight, as it is called. After this, the males all perish or are devoured by various animals. The 3'oung females tear off their wings and Inu-row in the ground. They are then queens, and become mothers and founders of new colonies." " But why do the}' tear off their wings ?" asked Abby. "The queen bumble-bee that we saw the other da}- had her wings quite like all the other bees." "Yes, the workers of bees and wasps are all winged, and their mode of life, while gathering food afield as well as at home, for the most part requires and is accom- modated to a winged state. It is different with ants, who are largely scavengers and burrowcrs, having no use for wings except during the marriage flight, for which purpose solely they seem to be provided. The queen ant doubtless finds the beautiful appendages to her wardrobe entirely too cumbersome for her Avorkaday life, and therefore puts herself into plain attire." "There, Aunt Hannah," suggested Abby. "You see you can 'go to the ant' to find a justification for your notions about plain dressing." "Thank thee, Abby, for thy good Avord," i^aid Aunt Hannah, smiling. " But thee forgets that the queen ])ee and all her busy workers, who have quite as good a name for the virtues of industry and economy, keep their gay apparel. Friends are not so severe in their views of dress as they used to be, and perhaps there is less need of their testimony. At all events, to return to thy analogy, if it seems becoming to the queen ant to THE UUTTING-ANT OF TEXAS. 239 mf ..^^m:^^ FIG. 79. — MOUXr> NEST OF C'UTTING-AXT. cast ofl^ her o;uuly ornjiments, Ave will not say tliat the queen bee who adheres to lier wings is without natural, becoming and industrious ways. My plain bonnet suits me very well, Abby, but perhaps it might not be so becoming to thy beauty. Though, I think thee would make a very pretty Quakeress, too !" she added, with a pleasant smile, and kindly glanced at the blushing Schoolma'am. We cordially enjoyed this good-humored sally, and 240 TENANTS OF AN OLD FALIM. with a word of comineudatiou for Aunt Hannah's generous opinions, 1 resumed \\\y narrative. *■' There were several large eoJDnies of cutting-ants at points suthciently near camp for purposes of study. The surface architecture presented two typical forms. One of these was that of a mounil twenty-one feet long anil about four feet high, which had been accumulated around a large double-trunk live-oak tree {QuercKS rireni<), which stood on tlie side of a road, (Fig. 7V), ) The second form was located on a high, flat, up- land prairie, and was a bed of denuded earth, about nine by seven feet in dimensions. It was placed in the midst of the grassy open, but not far from a young grove of forest trees. " Over the denuded surface were scattered between twenty and thirty circular, semi-circular, and S-shaped elevations of fresh earth-poUets, The circular mound- lets had the appearance of a cuspidore, the resemblance being stronger by reason of a round, open entrance or gallery-door in the center. All had ])een naturally formed by the gradual accumulation of the pellets oi sandy soil, as the}' were brought out by the workers and dumi)ed upon the circumference of the heap. The moundlets were from three to four inches high, massed at the base, and gradually sloped oil' toward the top. I found several of these ' beds,' as the Texans call them, and this is doubtless the normal form of the external architecture of the formicary. The live-oak mound was probably formed by accumulations around the tree, caused by the bordering road which restricted the limits TltE CUT'J'/ya-ANT OF TEXAS. 241 of ihc g;ite«, ;iiul so lliivw separate moimcUets back upon eaeh otlier. ''My lirst view <>t" the mound le( mo to fear that I hail made a seri- ous mistake and pitehed my camp near an abandoned nest. There was uot a sign of life. The mound was covered over witli earthen knobs or warts of various sizes, but FIH. SO. — PROCESSION OF PAUASOL OU CL'TTIXfi-ANTS. the action of a recent shower upon the black soil gave the hill the appearance of an old one. Here and there were scattered over the surface small, irregular heaps of dry leaves, 1)its of leaves and twigs. Otherwise the mound seemed lifeless, deserted. '■ ]Mv next visit was in the evening. After supper I 242- THE OUTTINC-ANT OF TEXAK 243 left one of my nu'ii to guai-d cainp and build a, t-anip- iii-e, and took anollicr with me carrying a lantern, to tlie live-oak nest. An amazing eliangc had occurred; instead of .silence and sei'ining desolation a scene of thronging life and stirring activity was presented. Hostsof ants of various sizes, and in countless numbers, were hurrying out of open gales into the neighboring jungle, and two long double cohunns were stretclied from bottom to top of the overlianging live-oak ; one column ascended, the other descended the tree. The ants in the descending column all carried above their heads portions of green leaves, which w\aved to and fro and glanced in the lantern light, giving to the moving host a weird look as it moved along. It seemed like a procession of Lilliputian Sabbath-school children bear- ing aloft their banners. It is this habit which has given the insect in some quarters the popular name of the "Parasol Ant." " But wliat could the creatures want with parasols ?" asked Al)by. " There was neitlier sunshine nor rain to protect themselves from ?" " We shall see the use of these leaf-cuttings presently. The name parasol is of course based upon a popular fancy, as these ants when seen aliroad are usually ac- companied—like that friend of our boyhood, Robinson Crusoe— with their odd-looking uml)rella-like append- ages." (Fig. 81.) "Do they hold them in their hands?" asked Aunt Hannah. " i^^To, in their jaws or mandibles ; an odd place to 244 2ENANTH OF AN OLD FAR.If. carry a parasol, perhaps, l)ut they manage it well. I will show you how this is clone when I have explained the leaf-cutting habit. I ol)serveil \ery fully at the nests around my camp and in vegetable gardens near Austin the mode of cutting and carrying leaves. In order better to see the process I thrust leafy branches of live-oak into the mound near the gates. The}- were soon covered with ants, and as the lantern could thus be used con- veniently, the operations of the cutters were com- pletely in view. The cut- ting is done in this way : The cutter grasps the leaf with outspread feet and makes an incision at the edge by a scissors-like motion of her sickle-shaped, toothed mandililes. She gradually revolves, steadily cutting as she does so, her mandibles thus describing a circle, or the greater portion thereof. The feet turn with the head. The cut is a clean one quite through the leaf " " TIow large a piece do the insects cut out ?'' Aunt Hannah asked. " The cutting is about the size of a ten-cent piece or sixpence, and is usually roundish in shape, though often irregular. The cutter would sometimes drop with the FIG. 82. — DEFOLTATKT) TWIG OF PRinE-OP-CniNA-TREE. THE CUTTING-ANT OF TEXAS. 245 FIG. 83. — ANT MAKING A CUTTING FROM A LIVE-OAK LEAF. excision to the the ground, sometiine« retire when the section had dropped, and sometimes seize the section and carry it down the tree or brancli." " I was greatl}' interested to notice here an apparent division of labor. At the foot of one tree was a pile of cut leaves, to which clippings were being continually added by droppings from above. Carriers on the FIG. 84 — HEAD OF A CUTTIHG-ANT, ENLARGED EIGHT TIMES. 246 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ground touk these up aud bore them to the nest. The loading of the sections was accomplished in this wise : the piece was seized with the curved mandibles, the head elevated and the piece thrown back with a quick motion. Let me draw for you the head of an ant and you will see how this is done. A deep furrow runs along the entire medial line, except the part at the very end of the face called the clypeus. At the edge of this furrow, on either side, and on the prothorax pro- jecting over the neck are prominent spines, which you will notice if you look again at the specimens. (Fig. ple to talk IVeeiy. Tlu-y are not likely to .step nuich beyond the bounds of propriety, and I don't care to restrain them." "Very well; thee will tind Daniel a good, fiilhfid fellow, but much tainted with curious African supersti- tions, and sometimes over-free with his opinions. Good-night, and many thanks for this pleasant evening and thy kind invitation to return. Come, Penn, if thee has finished explaining that ant-hill to friend Abby, we will 2:0.' CHAPTER XIV. A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. " What do the cutting-ants do with the leaves which they carry into their holes ?" The evening's conversation began with this question. " I was very anxious to answer that inquir}', you maj' be sure, and there was only one way to do so — I must dig up the nest. My three assistants were armed with pick and shovel ; I was provided with trowel, knife, pocket-rule, and my little satchel, filled with boxes, bottles, and various odds and ends for collecting speci- mens and other work. Camp-stool and drawing- materials stood at the road-side. We knew that the insects would swarm upon us in innumerable legions when we assaulted their home, and that their sharp pincers would be formidable weapons. We therefore, like ancient knights, girt ourselves with armor for the conflict. " Handkerchiefs and scarfs were bound around face and cars under our hats ; bandages swathed our necks tightly ; trousers were thrust into boot-tops, and these tightened to the legs ; hands were gloved and wrists bandaged ; indeed, every opening through the clothing by which the angr}'^ ants might find way to the bod}' was protected by wrappings. Thus ar- rayed, I led my little army to the assault. 252 .1 TOUR TJinOUGU. A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 253 Two nieu were detailed for the digging, one to the work of brusliing off the ants with leaty branches and wisps of grass. Two trenches were made ; one ten feet long and live feet deep, and a second at right angles to it, and wide enough to allow free entrance for purposes of study. We were not disappointed in our calculation as to the reception whicii the ants would give us. The swift use of the spade and the general convulsion of their emmet world did, indeed, daze them for a little while ; but they were not long in rallying. Hundreds — thousands — hundreds of thousands poured out of the excavations. I never saw anything like it. I was amazed at the extraordinary number of creatures inhabiting that one hill. The knight of the whisk was overwhelmed with the duty of keeping the assailing legions from his comrades of the spade. I came to his help. We were both driven to our utmost. The dig- gers were literally covered with ants ; and when the insects had mounted as far as their necks, they were compelled to leap from the trench, and join their owu labors Avith ours in freeing them from the attacking hordes." "It does seem too Ijad," exclaimed Aunt Hannah, " that thee should have felt bound so to destroy the poor creatures ! Didn't thy conscience hurt thee some for such wholesale spoliation and killing T' " Xot in the least — certainly in the case of cutting- ants, who are fearful pests to the farmers, as we shall see by-and-by. Do you feel any scruples at your hus- band's slaughter of the potato-beetles?" A TOUR Tim UGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 255 "Joseph doesn't have any, at all events," said Aunt Hannah, smiling, "Besides that,'' 1 continued, "the naturalist, as a priest in the temple of nature, must have some power over the life of the lower creatures. I didn't kill any more ants than were actually necessary for study. If we hadn't killed them they would have driven us from the held ; for I assure you. Aunt Hannah, they don't practice your gentle Quaker principles of non-resist- ance. But to go hack to my stor\-. ''By dint of perseverance we tinished our trenches, and had heautifuUy exposed the interior of the formi- cary. AVe were not long in reaching the caves in which the ants dwell. Then came my turn to enter the trench, for the rude strokes of spade and pick could not he trusted to the delicate work of making out the forms and proportions of the rooms and roadways of the formicary. It is no easy task to trace these through the inside of a crumhling ant-hill, and it re- quired careful work. Down into the trench, therefore, 1 must go, and as I had to work slowly and at close quarters, picking away piece by piece, measuring, tak- ing notes, gathering specimens, I was far more exposed than my assistants. Indeed, it required the united eftbrts of all three to keep the ants away from my face. As for the rest of my body I liade tliem let that go, although occasionally a soldier ant woidd thrust his sharp sickles even through my clothing, and force me to give him attention. However, our punishment by these insects was mild as compared with tliat of the 256 .4 TOUR TllliOUail A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 257 asrieultunil unty, who have stings as sharp and viru- lent as iiornets. "The interior of the formicary may be briefly de- scribed as an irregular arrangement of caverns com- municating with the surface and with each other by tubular galleries. These caverns or pockets were of various sizes, three feet long and less, and twelve inches deep l)y eight inches high, and less. Now we come to the question of how the ants dispose of the leaves which they collect. '"Within these caverns were masses of a light, delicate leaf-paper Avrought into what may properly be called 'combs.' Some of the masses were in a single hemi- sphere, tilling the central parts of the cave ; others were arranged in columnar masses two and one-half inches high, placed in contact along the floor. Some of these columns hung-like a rude honey-comb or wasp's nest from roots that interlaced the chamber. The material Avas in some cases of a gray tint, in others of a lead-brown color and Avas all evidently composed of the flbre of leaves." (Fig. 88.) "You speak of this material as leaf-paper,' said Abby. "Do you mean that the leaves Avere fastened together like pieces of paper, or that they were ground up and made into a true paper V" "•The nin-e of the leaves had actually been reduced tn pulp, and spread out into a papery mass, Avhich had dried into the shapes described." "But how could this have been done ?" "Undoubtedly by the joint action of the mandibles 258 A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-IIILL. 359 and salivary glands. The tbriner urgau« are powerful instrunieuts that readily grind up the leaves, which arc kept moist and pliable by the latter organs. This is, in fact, a rude process of paper-making, and it is not sur- prising to tind the habit in the ants, since it exists in great perfection among their close relations, the wasps. "On examination, the pulpy masses proved to be composed of cells of various sizes, irregular in shape, but maintaining pretty constantly the hexagon. Some of the cells were half an inch in diameter, many one- fourth inch, most of them one-eighth inch, and quite minute. Some were one inch deep, and usually nar- rowed into a funnel-like cylinder. Large circular open- ings penetrated the heart of the columns. Ants in great number, chiefly of the small castes, were found within the cells ; in the first large cave opened were also great quantities of larvie.'" "Does thee know what these leaf-combs are used for ?" asked Aunt Hannah. " I believe that they are the living-rooms of the ants, particularly of the grubs and younglings. The eggs, I think, are deposited within the cells, and are there hatched. The paper is so fragile that it breaks under the most delicate handling, but the ants ran over it with impunity. However, Mr. Belt has started the curious theory that the leaf-paper masses are a sort of mushroom garden, wherein a minute fungus is pur- posely cultivated by the ants for food. That, if true, would certainly show a rare degree of intelligence, though by no means bc\ond the ennnet capacity. I 260 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. submitted some of my specimens to tlie microscope, and they did sliow fungus growths, l)ut tliat is only wliat niiglit be expected in such dark, underground en- vironment. I believe that the chief food of the ants is the juice of the leaves which the}^ gather, although they are not contined to that diet. I saw one immense column, for example, engaged in plundering a granary of wheat, which was being carried away, grain by grain. to the nest." "Have they any preference among the trees which they defoliate?" asked Abby. "Yes; a decided preference. The principal leaves gathered at my camp were those of the live-oak. The great tree above the mound was, in some parts, stripped to the very top. ' The young saplings in the neighbor- hood were in great part or wliollj' stripped. Some' wild vine unknown to me was an especial favorite, but some plants stood in the little thicket around quite untouched. I thought it curious, by-the-way, that the workers showed a preference for beginning their operations at the topmost or outmost twigs of the branches. A china-tree Avhich I observed showed one side nearh* stripped of leaves, while the other side was untouched. (Fig. 89.) "I visited the grounds of an intelligent nurseryman near Austin, and learned from him many interesting facts. The ants prefer trees \\\i\\ a smooth leaf, are severe upon grapes, peaches, china-tree, radishes ; take celery, beets, young corn and wheat, plum, pomegran- ate, honeysuckle, cape jessamine, cape myrtle, althea. A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HU.L. 20,1 FIG. 89. — PRIDE-OF-CIIINA TliEE STltll'PED OF LEAVES ON ONE SIPE l!y CUTTI.\G-ANT. On the other hand, they do not hkc lettuce, won't take the paper mulberry, nor tig.s and cedar, exceiit the bud ends in the scant days of winter. They love sugar, grain and — tobacco !'" "Tobacco!" exclaimed Aunt Hannah; "can such an unnatural taste exist in a pure state of nature ?" "Oh, for that matter," remarked A1)by, "I think 363 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. it far mure tittiug material for an aiit'f- jaws tlian a man's !" " They certainly seem to liud a use for it," 1 resumed, " for the nursery man assured me that the auts made foraging excursions even into his house, entered his desk-drawers, and carried away a portion (jf his chew- ing tobacco before the robbery was discovered. He had to be very careful thereafter where he deposited the de- lectable weed." "Truly," cried Abby, "wonders never cease to be explained. It has always been a mystery to me how the tobacco-chev;ing habit could have originated among men. But here we have it ! It comes down by long descent from some far away emmet ancestor of ours !" "Tut, tut, Abby," interposed Aunt Hannah. "What does thee mean by such nonsense?" "Nonsense! Wh}' should you call it that?" re- torted Abby, while her eyes twinkled merrily. " It was only a few days ago that I read, floating through our daily papers, a saying of one of Mr. Maytield's dis- tinguished ant-loving friends to the ellect that if one were to judge from intelligence and general affinity of social habit and organization alone, man migb.t more readily be derived from an ant than from an ape. So, there I My remark has the wisdom of the evolutionists behind it, and a specialist's justification besides." " We cannot stop to settle the wisdom of Abby's re- mark," I observed, " or even whether she is in jest or earnest. But I will cordially endorse Sir John Lub- bock's remark, with a good deal of emphasis, however, .1 TOUR THROUGH A TEXAH ANT-HILL. 2G3 on the ij\ I was Ircqueiitly surpriised at the ability of these cuttino-ant masons to excavate vast halls and subterranean avenues. I visited several holos in the vicinity of Austin, out of which ' beds ' or nests of anls had been dug by an old man who used to follow the business of an ant-exterminator. These holes were nearly as large as the cellar of a small house. One such excavation, about three miles from the city, was twelve feet in diameter and fifteen feet deep. At the lowest point the main cave or chamber had been found which, I was told, was as large as a flour barrel. In this central cavern were many winged insects, males and females, and quantities of larvse. It was the head- quarters of the formicary, whence, in various direc- tions, radiated avenues through which the workers issued upon their uunaerous raids. "I was struck by the engineering skill displayed in laying out these avenues. Take this example. The nest of which I speak was situated 609 feet from a tree that stood in the front yard of a gentleman's house. The tree had Ijeen stripped bare of leaves by the cuttincr- auts! Assisted by a young civil engineer, I took the range of the underground way traversed to reach this point, and from the survey, an accurate route was con- structed by a friend in the office of the Pennsylvania Kailroad. This is a copy of it (see page 204.) You see that the course varies little from a direct line. There were no turnings or twistings, but the tunnel ran from point to point straight as an arrow flies. In this respect the map is true to the facts." (Fig. 90.) 364 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAliM. Aotf "That is an important explana- tion," Abby remarked, "for I have learned to take all maps that issue from railroad oflices with great allowance for a scientific use of the imagination. It is surprising to see how straight their lines run between main points on the maps, and how many curves, sweeps and deflections there are when jou come to ride on their trains !" As Abby's sally evidently touched a common experience it was greeted with hearty merriment. "I can vouch for the accuracy of this chart, at all events," I said. "And this is all the more remarkable when you remember that the lines were run uncle i-groimd. In some i)laces the tunnel was as deep as six feet be- neath the surface, the avei'age depth Ijeing about eighteen inches. At the 'Exit Hole,' 484 feet from the nest, the tunnel was two feet deep. I am not prepared to say upon what principles these lines were laid out by the ants, but I venture the opinion that they show as good evi- dence of thorough engineering in going directly to their points of des- A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 2fi5 tination, as do the famous undorground raihvaj's of Lon- don. Besides this niaiu way which I have described, there were two branch tunnels wliich deflected from the trunk-line near the country road, in order to gain en- trance to a peach orchard one hundred and twenty feet distant." "How did you trace these tunnels ?'■ asked Penn. '' It must have been an immense work to dig after them.'' '"The work had been done by the planter, who, de- termined to exterminate the nest, had traced it up with the help of laborers. Much of the way Avas actually dug out, and the trench was visible when I visited the place. As to the rest, it was only necessary to sink holes here and there along the estimated course, and when the tunnel was struck, take another bearing. The nest was finally reached, and the great pit was there to show how extensive the colony had been. " In view of such observations as these, I am quite prepared to believe the story related by Dr. Lincecum, who long observed the habits of the cutting-ants in Texas, that they on one occasion tunneled beneath a stream in order to reach a garden that lay on the opposite side. There is one other remarkable habit which I observed before the mound nest near my camp had been destroyed. It relates to the opening and shutting of the gates which communicate with the interior. I soon found that doors were opened and closed before and after every exit from the nest. The process is a long, careful, and complicated one." 266 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " What did the gates look hke ?" asked Harry. "They are simply little heaps of dry leaves, twigs, and such like refuse, which are seen scattered here and there over the mound as one approaches it in day-time. (Fig. 91.) When I first saw them, as I have told you, FIG. 91. — THE GATE CLOSED. I was completely deceived, and thought them nothing more than accidental accumulations. I found out, however, that these piles were raised above the surface opening of the galleries that penetrated the mound, and that they filled the mouths to the depth sometimes of an inch and a half. The leaves and chips were in- termingled with pellets of soil, and occasionally below them the gallery was quite sealed with pellets. The galleries frequently slant inward from the gate, and at as great an angle as forty-five degrees. Sometimes they deflect a short distance from the top. These con- formations allow more readily the process of closing, as they give a purchase to the material used. " The doors are opened about dusk. First appear the A TOUB THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HTLL. 267 minims, the very small forms, creeping out of minute holes, which they luive doubtless made l)_y working,' inside, and deporting from the heap grains of sand. Presently larger forms follow, carrying away Ints of refuse, which tliey drop a couple of inches more or less from the gate. This is a slow i)rocess, and apparently nothing is accomplished for a long time. But evidently the whole mass of plugging is thus gradually loosened. Then comes the tinal burst, with soldiers, majors and minors in the lead, who rush out, bearing up before them the rul)bish, which Hies here and there, and in a few moments is cleared away from the gallery and sjiread around the margin of the gate. (Fig U2.) These FIG. 93. — THE GATE OPEN. chips are doubtless gathered together for this purpose, and are among the treasured properties of the ants being kept near by for such service. I easily identified 268 A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 2G9 many pieces as being thus used several days in succes- sion. " The doors reniiiin open to give exit and entrance to tlie swarms of leaf-gatherers until morning when they are gradually closed, the process continuing in some cases until 10:30 a.m. In shutting up the house the minors appear to begin by dragging the scattered refuse toward the hole. One by one they are taken in, and the ingenuity shown in this is very great. My field note- book is full of sketches showing the progress, step by step, of gate-closing, and the admirable manner in which tiie workers proceed by properly adjusting the longest stalks and leaves that can stretch across and wedge into the mouth of the gallery, and then laying the shorter one atop of these. (Fig. 93.) " But I cannot dwell upon these details. As the hole gradually fills up, the smaller castes of Avorkers ap- pear upon the field and take up the work to which their slighter frames are adapted. The last touches are care- fully and delicately made by the minims who, in small squads, fill in the remaining interstices with minute grains of sand ; and finally the last laborer steals in behind some bit of leaf, and the gate is closed. It then presents to the casual observer the appearance which I have described, and which is shown in the cut, of a small heap of dry chips accidentally accumulated upon the ground." I was delighted to note the interest with which my friends followed this description, and how eagerly they hung upon my words. Several drew a deep breath and 270 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAliM uttered various exclamations as I concluded, and when I called attention to a figure which I had drawn, show- ing a gate when closed, and the same when opened, even Sarah left her recess in the shadow of the kitchen door to look at it, " An' what do they go thro' all thet bother for V" at length she asked. I hesitated a moment, l)ut observing that the question voiced the wish of others, was about to speak, when Dan took up the answer for me. "Bress yo' heart, honey," he said. "What do ;/o' shet yo' doahs fer ? Ef eber dar wur a 'tickler body on dat subject uv shettin' doahs, it's yo', Sairy Ann. An' I's done said, many en' many's the time, dat de 'mount uv bother 't yo'd make 'bout dem ole doahs uv yo's, is onreasonable out uv all perportion." " Onreasonable !" cried Sarah, quite thrown off her guard. "That's the way with you men — alius the way. Do ye call 't onreasonable to keep flies out of the kitchen w'en ther wuss 'n the plagues uv Egypt ; an' to keep draughts oft' 'n the bread dough, an' — but w'ats the use 'u talkin' V" She had retreated to her kitchen door b}' this time, and turned to hurl at her venerable tormentor a question which she was wont to shout at him many times a day. " I'd jist like to know w'at doors 'er made fer, ef not to shet ?" "Ho, ho," laughed Dan, clasping himself in his arms, and rolling his l)ody in his usual way when greatly amused ; " ho, ho ! Dat's zactly wat de ants tink about it, Sary Ann ! W\y didn't yo' start out wid dat quest'n, an' den yo' needn't 'v axed nuffin' 'tall." A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 371 When the aniusement which this little episode pro- duced had subsided, I resumed : "At first I contented myself with looking for these gates in the near vicinity of the central mound or bed, but I soon found that there were many more openings. Indeed, one scarcely knew where he might stumble upon a group of the little miners crowding in busy groups out of holes in the grass, carrying pellets of earth, the product of their underground excavations, I never saw any but the smaller forms or minims en- gaged in this service of digging. They were night workers, and at times, as I moved over the ground thirty or forty feet from the central live-oak mound, I would see shining in the lantern-light among the grass a white 'dumping' which showed where a bevy of masons were at work. They had tapped the white adobe clay that lies several feet underneath the upper soil, and the nature of the pellets which they were cart- ing out showed that they were cutting rooms and gal- leries in that stratum. The accumulation outside the opening presented quite the appearance of a mimic railroad dumping, with a gang of laborers at work ; the minims issued from the cavernous shadows trembling under the weight of the white pellets borne before and above their heads, crossed the heap until the edge was reached, and then ' dumped ' their load. It was quite a comical sight to see some of them at this point. They raised themselves upon their hind legs, thrust their heads over the edge, and with a saucy jerk flung down the bit of clay. Others would put a fore-paw to A TOUR THROUGH A TEXAS ANT-HILL. 273 eitlier side of tlie ftxce, and striking forward with the legs, accelerate the movement of the pellet. Others, again, contented themselves with simply thrusting the head heyond the margin of the dump and dropping their load from the jaws. Here is a sketch of one of these mason groups engaged on a dumping. '^ (Fis-. 94.) "Certainly these little fellows have amazingly i iter- esting parts," remarked Penn Townes ; "hut they must be a great plague to the horticulturist. Is notli- mg done to destroy the creatures ?" "Oh, yes, there are various ways for their destruc- tion ; indeed the formidable nature of the insects' depredations lias developed a class of men Avhoso special business is to exterminate them. I heard of one at Austin, who had long followed the business of digging out nests, and was known as the ' Old Ant :Man.' I saw some of his work-great holes, the size of a small cellar, from which vast formicaries had been literally dug out. I heard of another person who, being of an inventive turn, had devised a machine which dispenses with the laborious method of the old Austin ant man. I was fortunate enough to get one of his circulars, and here it is, with the wood-cut to illustrate the mode of operation. The cut, to be sure, is of a most primitive type, and looks as though it also might have Ijeen manufactured by the inventor of the machine. But it is very interesting, if not artistic, for it gives us some insight of an ant-bed, as seen by an experienced practical observer. Of course he has only made a rough diagram of a nest-interior, but you 274 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. see that it shows a network of galleries, uniting caves of various sizes, just as I have described it. (Fig, 95.) " The • Insect Destroyer ' works about in this wise : FIG. 95. — A PATEXT ANT EXTERMINATOR. — FROM THE inventor's CIRCULAR. alternate layers of ignited charcoal and sulphur or similar materials are laid in a hollow dug around one of the gates, and surrounded by a ' smoke chamber. ' In one case a bellows, in another an air-pump, is attached to this chamber, and as the combustibles are blown into a flame, the gas thus generated is also forced down the galleries into the rooms, and of course suffocates the ants. The inventor, as j'ou see, here advertises ' the largest bed of Cutting Ants completely destroj'ed in twenty to forty minutes.' " " Dear me !" exclaimed Abby, "that is surely a fell A TOUR Tim UGH A TEXAS ANTHILL. 275 destroyer ! He must have oot this Inut of exter- minating emmet cities l)y raining tire and In-imstone upon them, from the story of Sodom and (iomorrah ! But see ! here is a contirmation of your account of the location of gates at distant points ; our Texas artist lias put little puffs of smoke curling up from holes way out here in the field.'" " Does the machine work satisfactory ?" asked Hugh. "Really, I cannot tell you, though I tried to ascer- tain that fiict. But, if you have a mind to experi- ment, note the advertisement: ' Price, for Farm-Right and Machine, all Complete, $20,' " " Ther's nothin' to expurmint on," ansAvei-ed nugh, laughing, ''aroun' this ole farm, 'cept mole runs and a few rat holes aroun' the harn ; an' I reckon it ud hardly pay to import a colony uv cuttin' ants jest to expurmint on them.'''' " I am sure that I wouldn't liegrudge the monc}-," said Aunt Hannah, "' if the inventor would guarantee that his machine can smoke out our red house-ants." " Red ants, Aunt Hannah !" exclaimed the Mistress. "You surprise me! I tliought there wasn't enough encouragement in the way of stray cruml)s of any sort around your house to justify even a red ant in venturing upon the premises," "Catherine Mayflield," responded Aunt Hannah, with a little show of warmth, "thee must know that the matter of dirt has nothing to do with the presence of ants. They are tidy creatures enough and know how to pick up a living in the tidiest housekeeper's cup- 276 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. boards. There are some insects, I grant thee, Avhose presence is a proof of uncleanliness, but it is no discredit to any houseekeeper to have red ants at times." "An' that's the mortal truth, Aunt Hanner," re- marked Sarah, who had been again allured from the kitchen shadows by the nature of the conversation. "• I've tried no end uv scourin' an' scrubbin' ; an' after I'd hed my closets all swep' an' garnished, and pol- ished to boot, along ud come them pesky mites uv critters, like the cast out devils in the Scripter, an' ud enter in bringin' ther neighbors with 'em, an' make things wuss 'n ever. For my part I don't see w'at mh anymiles wuz made fer, nohow !" Having thus delivcreti her mind and started a problem that has puzzled wiser heads, she returned to her seat at the kitchen stove. CHAPTER XV. THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. The subject of Iwo of our most iuleix'stiug Conver- sations — the Mu.sic of Iiisectis — wus introduced by a casual discussion between Sarah, Hugh and Dan. Tlie autumn air, ever since our advent to the old farm, had been full of the shrilling of crickets, and the noisy vocalization of katy-dids. As the Fall advanced the notes grew fewer and fainter. Silence fell upon the air after the light, early frosts, which was broken once more when the returning warmth of October's mellow suns allured the insects from their refuge in holes, under stones and in crevices of trees. The call of the kat3'-did at last ceased ; the crickets creaked on through the dreamy haze of Indian summer, then fell into silence over all the fields, leaving only here and there a for- tunate adventurer to push his way into human habita- tions, and from the shelter of friendly wall-crannies or the warmth of a log-fire figure with his monotonous chirrup as the "Cricket on the Hearth." (Fig. 96.) One evening Hugh and Dan were sitting on the bench beside the back-kitchen door, smoking their pipes and exchanging views upon the merits and demerits of in- sects of various sorts. One of the pleasant results of our Conversations 1\as been to supply our regular and 277 278 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. occasional workmen with a theme for intenigeut discus- sion. We have been surprised — as they themselves have been — to see liow much they have been stimulated to observe the natural objects and phenomena which con- tinually fall in their way. Before this Fall these had Ijeen nearly disregarded, or passed with a careless eye, and usually with a wrong idea of their nature and re- lations. Now, everything about the farm, especially of an insect kind, is sharply scrutinized. These obser- vations are compared and canvassed among them- selves, and often referred to me for decision and further information. We congratulate ourselves on this result, because whatever quickens the intellectual life of working people, or induces them to close and careful observa- tion of matters around them, and deepens their interest in the world through which they move, goes very far to raise the quality of the laborers and enhance the value of their service. Certainly, this is an incidental result ; one, indeed, that we had not counted much upon ; but the fact that the happiness and intelligence of my humble friends have thus been promoted has been a strong stimulus to me to persist in my course. One of these discussions was in full progress between Hugh and Dan on the evening to which I allude. Sarah was busy at the kitchen table that stood by the open window just above the bench on which the men sat, and so could join in the conversation without inter- rupting her work. A lull in the talk gave her an oppor- tunity to change the subject to one on which she THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 379 evidontlj- had strong views— crickets. She took her staiul oil the kitchen sloop, tor better effect in uttering .^ her opnuon, and with hands jj^> (one ot Mhich gi.isped tlie dish- towel) lestnig i\\ a fe near the top were yet cov- ''SERMONS IN''— ANTS. 345 erecl with hut^ks, otliers further down were shelled, so that 1 eould aecuunt for the heaps of husks which were lilaced around the margin of the yard. ''The seeds were stored in small caverns or pockets several inches long and about an inch high. Some were circular, others semi-circular in shape. Here is a view of a group of these granaries (Fig. llU.) You are looking down from the yard into them, remember, and of course the roof has been omitted from the picture to show you the stores of grain garnered within. Here then was proof nuniljer four — the ants do store aAvay the ant-rice and other seeds, for I found more than one kind within their little store-houses aud barns. " But what do they do with these seedsV Are they really provided as 'meat' and gathered for 'food,' as the inspired writer says ? I had no doubt about that myself; but I wanted to prove it beyond question. Of course I could not creep down into the nest aud live thei'e long enough to see the insects at their meals ; nor would they come out-of-doors and have an emmet pic- nic in the open just to show me how they did. What, then, should I do ? I did this : I had a large number of the ants shipped to me from Texas, built for them small artificial formicaries in my library, and kept them during an entire winter under observation. 1 saw many interesting and cunning habits, which I have not time to relate to you, but among these was their food-habit. I observed that they did eat the seeds which I had taken from their nests, as well as other grains, such as oats. They lapped up the oily substance 22 346 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAIUf. from the uul-like seeds, jusL as a cat does milk, and licked off the starchy grains, as I have seen children lick a candy-stick. Thus was added the last link to the chain of proof that our Texas Agriculturals are real harvesting- ants. " These arc not the only harvesters. It was not hard to discover that two species with the same habit live in the Holy Land, where Solomon dwelt and wrote, and also in coun- tries where Homer andVirgil lived, who also had told about the harvesting-ants. You may be very sure, FIG. 112. — INTERIOR PLAN OF STORE- liOOMS AND GALLERIES. FIG. 113. — OPEN GRANARY OF HARVESTING-ANT. *'SEEMOjSrS TN'—AXTS. 347 eC4® FIG. 114. — OCCIDENT-ANT GATHEHING SUNFLOWER SEED. therefore, that these ancient writers made no mistake, and that the naturaUsts who voted them in error were wrong themselves. "We have other harvesting-ants in our own land. Two of the most common objects that attract tlie eye of a traveler upon the Great American Plains are the villages of tlie Prairie-dogs and the cone-shaped mounds of the Occident-ant. Here is one of these (Fig. 111.) They are covered wdth gravel, wluch the ants bring up from beneath, having dug them out in making their granaries and boring out pipe-like roads or galleries that unite them. The granaries are ranged in stories one above another, and I traced them as far as eight feet beneath the surface. This figure (Fig. 112) shows an interior plan of one of these nests, as it was seen 848 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARl FIG. 115. — GRANARIES OF THE PENNSYLVANIA HARVESTER. after one side had beeu dug away, and this (Fig. 113) is one of the granaries cut out of the soil in which it was dug. These letters, R, R, (Fig. 112) show store-rooms or granaries in which quantities of seeds were placed, and these G, G-, are galleries that connect them. T saw some of these Occident Ants gathering wild sunflower seeds in the Garden-of-the-gods, and our next picture shows her mounted upon the flower and tugging away at a seed with all her might. (Fig. 114.) "Indeed, we need not go to Texas or Colorado or Florida to find American harvesting-ants. Eight here in our own neighborhood, in the field in which this church stands, in the orchard-walk at Shadybank over the way, and in various places around the Old Farm where I live, there is a little black ant, the Pennsylvania Harvester {Pheidole Pennsylvankus)^ who harvests seed, and here is a drawing of two of its granaries (Fig. 116.) "Sh'B.UONS IN''— ANTS. 349 One of the worker-castes is a funny-looking creature, having a verj^ lai-ge head. It is known as the 'Soldier,' while the other forms are called 'workers.' THE I/RSSONS. "And now, ni}' children, having told you something ahont that habit which the good Book refers to, let me point you to the lessons which it is intended to teach. The first is a lesson of Honest Industry. Turn once more to Proverbs, Chapter xxx, and take up the Scrip- ture at the verse Avhere we stopped before — the 0th. Read, now, the 9th, 10th and 11th verses : " 'How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep '? Vet a little sleep, a little slum))er, a little folding of tlie hands to sleep ! So shall thy povert}' come as oue that traveleth, and thy want as an nrnied man."'' " That is the lesson. If you love idleness and sleep, if you grow up to be sluggards, poverty and want will sweep down fast upon you like a swift traveler, and will conquer and destroy you like an enemy in arms. It is the hand of the diligent that shall wax rich. Learn to work lionestly and lovingly, not simply to get your task done and pocket the pay for it, but as one who loves his business, and is determined to do his whole duty to his emploj'er. Drive every nail, spin every thread, turn every furrow, sweep every room, dust every chair, wash every dish as in the sight of One who sees the slightest act and will try all your work. Quaint George Herbert has well suug : 350 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws Makes that and the action fine." The lazy person is always an unfortunate person, usually an unhappy and often a wicked one. The poet Spencer, in his ' Faerie Queene,' has well called ' Sluggish Idlenesse the Nourse of Sinne. ' " There is another lesson which I may venture to refer to, though I must ask the religious leader at my side to enlarge upon it. It is a lesson of forethought of that Future which lies before all souls. Old age, misfortune, and death hasten upon man like the Winter of the year. Would you lay up in Heaven a store of good deeds — a treasure which cannot be stolen and will not decay ? Begin now ! ' Remember now thy Creator in the da5's of thy youth, ere the evil days come.' This is the harvest time for you — for us all. Use it to form a character that shall stand the test of an Eternal Judge, and to do deeds of goodness, righteousness, purity, truthfulness, honor, v/hich shall bless not only yourselves but the generation in which j'ou live. A recent author thus begins his book : ' Some things God gives often, some he gives but once. Tiie seasons come and go and the flowers change with the months, but youth comes twice to none.' If tlie temptation should come to you to defer to another, and yet further, and yet moi-e distant day, the duty of laying up store of spiritual wealth — noble character, kindly deeds and im- mortal Hope through the Saviour of all, then remem- ber the teachina; of our humble insect friends. ' Go to '' iiERMONti IN' —ANTS. 351 the nut, thou shiggaril 1 CJonsidcr hor \vay>i, aiul be wise.' " The Doctor followed with apt and tender words, the children sang a familiar refrain, and afler prayer the meeting was dismissed. Was my address a success ? 1 wondered and greatly feared. But t*he Doctor took my hand, and pressing it warml}^ looked into my face with his honest, kindly eyes, and said : '' Well done ! you have taught us all to-day to ' look from Nature up to Nature's God.' " When we had readied home the Mistress came to me and said : "It was a sweet surprise. I was never hap- pier than this day when I saw my husband standing with that holy man in the good work of helping those poor children to attain a happier future both here and hereafter." Thus I was comforted. CHAPTER XVIII. SEVENTEEN YEARS UNDER GROUND. We were made happy by seeing the sleek sides of T>v. Goodman's old horse, "Bob," stop before our gate on the Saturday afternoon preceding our next Conver- sation. The dominie had promised to join us, if possi- ble, in our concluding study of the natural history of theOCicada, and to contribute some notes upon its mythology and ethnology. In consideration of this, our Conversation was arranged to begin a little eai'lier, so that I might return with the Doctor to the Manse that night, and remain with him over the Sunday. Aunt Hannah and Penn were promptly in their places, so that our circle was complete. "The duration of life in many winged insects," I began, "is comparatively short, seldom exceeding two or three weeks in extent, and in many is limited to the same number of days, or hours. You need not be sur- prised, therefore, if I tell you that the Cic ida, or Har- vest-fly, lives only a few weeks after its transforma- tion." "It always seemed very strange to me," said Aimt Hannah, "and sad, too, that such beautiful and perfect creatm-es should be doomed to so brief a life. I remeni- 352 SEVKNTEEN YEARS UNDER GROUND. ?>m ])er to have had this thought when I read in an agri- cultural paper some time ago of the tribes of epliemeral insects which are born, live merrily, grow old, and die Avithin the comi)ass of twenty-four hours. That seemed to me a great waste of Nature's noble gifts, and I so said in the presence of one of our ministers. I was much surprised when at the meeting next First Day, she was moved to refer to this in a beautiful address upon the fleeting nature of our life, and the vanit}- of making so much of it, instead of pi-eparing for a higher and nobler state of being." "I am not surprised. Aunt Hannah," I answered, " that you shoidd have fallen into so connnon an error, and your minister Avas not the first to use the same as a text for moral lessons. The great Dr. Franklin once published an essa}', full of very instructive philo- sophy, which he put as an address into the month of an 'Ancient Ephemera,' that had lived to the extreme old age of four himdred and twenty minutes ! Like your good Friend's remarks in the meeting, his moral reflections are admiral>lc, but his entomology is de- fective." There are, indeed, several flies, known as May- flies, or Ephemera that live but a very short time, and a few of them only for ten or twelve hours, in the viiujed state. But the larvre of these very same flies liave lived in the water for nearlj^ a year before they left their native element and became denizens of the air. Of course they are insects quite as truly when in the larval as when in the imago slate, and there is no 354 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. basis of fact in the metaphor which measures their life by a few hours." " Thee amazes me, friend Mayfield !" exclaimed Aunt Hannali. " Thee is proving a veritable icono- clast with tliy entomology. First thee has taken out of our mouths our life-long associations with the locusts, and now thee destroys utterly our notions about the Ephemera. I am glad thee has spared the good Friend's lesson, at any rate.''" "The destruction of ancient errors is not usually a grateful task. Aunt Hannah, especially when they are well imbedded in the minds of people. The}' l^ecome, by-and-bj-, as sacred as truth, and any disturlmnce of them pains and irritates like the return of healthy cir- culation to a benumbed or frozen limb. However, as there is no special interest or principle attacked in this elfort to bring in a true entomological nomenclature, I hope that my friends will be sparing of their indigna- tion. " What I began to say is this — the Cicadas enjoy but a few days of life in the winged state, but in the case of the periodical species they are largely compensated by a remarkal)le length of life in their wingless and grub- like form. Seventeen years the one species, thirteen ^'ears the other, live underneath the ground. I can think of no parallel case ^yithin the whole range of natural history. In view of this amazing longevity one may well be sparing of sympatliy with the winged mu- sicians over the brevity of their days. •' Let us trace their history from the deposit of the SEVENTEEN YEARS UNDEU GROUNn. ;5r)5 ego;s until the emerging of tlie winged form. Tiic a1)clominal part of the female Cicada, as 3-011 see, is conical, and on the under side is a longitudinal channel for the reception of the piercer. This organ is further protected liy four short grooved pieces fixed in the sides of the channel. The piercer itself consists of three parts in close contact with each other — namely, two outer ones, grooved on the inside and enlarged at the tips, which externally are beset with small teeth like a saw ; and a central spear-pointed borer which plays be- tween the other two. Thus this instrument has the power and does the work both of an awl and a double- edged saw, or rather of two key-hole saws cutting opposite to each other. "When the time has come for the female to lay her eggs she selects a position near the tip of a twig. Tiie seventeen year Cicada has a great preference for the oak, next to that probably the hickory, but oviposits in almost every kind of deciduous tree, and even in herl)a- ceous plants, and occasionally evergreens. I have known pruinosa to oviposit in a stem of golden-rod. " Her method is this : She places her head upward, that is, toward the terminal part of the twig, and with her piercer saws a longitudinal furrow in the wood. Then, with her ovipositor, she forces the eggs a little distance down below the external opening. The ecjss are of a pearl white color, one-twelfth of an inch long, and taper to an obtuse point at each end. When in the act of cutting she clasps tlie liranch on both sides witii her legs, and then, bending down the piercer at 356 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAE.U an angle of about fort3'-five degrees, repeatedly thrusts it obliquely into the bark and wood in the direction of the fibres. At the same time she puts in motion the lateral saws, and in this way detaches little splinters of the wood at one perforation. The hole is bored obliqueh' to the pith, and is gradually enlarged by a repetition of the same operation, until a fissure is formed large enough to receive from ten to twenty eggs. The side-pieces of the piercer serve as a groove to con- vey the eggs into tlie nest, where they are deposited in pairs, side by side, but separated from each other by a portion of woody fibre, and they are implanted into the limb somewhat obliquely, so that one end points up- wards. When two eggs liave been thus placed, the insect withdraws the piercer for a moment, and then inserts it again and drops two moi'e eggs in a line with the first, and repeats the operation unlil she has filled the fissure from one end to another. Tlien she removes to a little distance and begins to make another nest." (Fig. 116.) " How long does it take her to do this V" asked Penn. " She is about fifteen minutes in preparing a single nest and filling it with eggs." " How many of these egg-nests does she have ?" " It is not unusTial for her to make fifteen or twenty fissures in the same limb ; and one observer counted fifty nests extending along in a line, each containing fifteen or twenty eggs in tM^o rows, and all of them api)arently the work of one insect. After one limb is thus sufficiently stocked, the Cicada goes to another, i"IG. IIG. — EGG-NESTS OF MOTHEK CICADA. 357 358 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. and passes from limb to limb, and from tree to tree, till her store of four or five hmidred eggs is exhausted. At length she becomes so weak ])y her iucessaut labors to provide for a succession of her kind, that she falters and falls in attempting to flj^, and soon dies." " Poor thing !" exclaimed the Mistress. "Well, I say that it's a mighty lucky thing," Hugh remarked, " that so man}'^ of them twigs do wither and fall, and cause the eggs to die inside uv 'em. I reckon tlier wouldn't be twigs enough to accommodate the risin' generations ef all them eggs hatched out." "Harris says that after oviposition the female saws the branch partly off below the eggs, so that the wind may twist off the tip end containing the eggs and let it fall to the ground. Certainly many of the punctured twigs do break oft" and die, and in years of invasion the oak forests often have a gloomy and disheveled ap- pearance from the number of branch-tips partly twisted off", and hanging with their dead leaves ready to fall. But it is doubtful if this is the result of a set purpose on the part of the mother Cicada, for a great majority of the incised twigs remain green and recover from their wounds. Indeed, it is probable that the eggs seldom hatch in those twigs which break off' and become dry, and that the moisture of the living branch is necessary to the life and development of the egg. In the healing of the punctured parts of the limb a knot usually forms over each ixuicture." "Doctor," said Abby, who had been examining the little bundle of twigs by which I had illustrated my SEVENTEEX YEARS UNDER GROUND. 359 desjcriptious, "can you tell us what such destructive creatures were made tor ?" "That is a question, 1 fancy, that falls within the province of the naturalist rather than the theologian," replied the Doctor, with a smile, wisely declining to enter into a problem of that nature. But Aunt Hannah was not quite satisfied with that view of the matter, and suggested her own opinion by a series of questions : " Does thee know, friend Abby, why the ten plagues of Egypt were sent upon that land ? or why the palmer-worm and the locust and the canker-worm and the caterpillar were sent upon Israel of old ? Does not the prophet Joel suggest an answer when he says, "For the meat offering and the drink offering is withholden from the house of your Lord ?" The Doctor, who was not proof against this challenge, removed the spectacles from his eyes, and with a little preparatory " ahem !" turned to answer Aunt Hannah. Fortunately we were brought back from this theologi- cal digression and saved the impending discussion by a bit of hard fact which Hugh Bond interjected. " As to them loc — beg y 'r pardon, them Harvest- flies, bein' destructive creeters, I never jes' see it, at all. Some folks allers make a poweful fuss over 'em Av'eu they come, and talk about the devourin' up uv every green thing, an' so forth. But my exper'ence is that ther bai'k 's wuss 'n ther bite. "ISTow, I never seed any leaves or other green things eat up by locusts uv that sort. They does cut off a power o' young shoots an' sich, an' sometimes, w'en 360 TENANTS OP AN OLD FARM they lights on a young fruit tree or saplin' they kills hit. But it don't do tnucli harm in ordinar' fur to trim o(F the outer twigs uv trees. The trees make wood ag'in, an er not much the wuss fur wear. Ther 's a nation sight o' buzzin', an' ez Mr. Maytield says, the woods does hev a sort o' rag-tag look, but it 's more in sight an' soun' than in solid harm, I 'm a thinkin'. In fac', ther 's a good 'eal more noise 'ii execution in an army of harvest-flies, jes' like an ole-fashioned militia trainin' sham battle." " That is very true," I said, " and I 'm much obliged to you, Hugh, for saving me the trouble of saying it. So you see. Miss Abby, that whatever general princi- ple may lie beyond the problem that you started, it has no basis of facts to rest upon in the case of the Cicada. It is chiefly an example of an Ku-scientific use of the imagination, excited by that old and false name ' locusts. ' Shakespeare has said that ' a rose by any other name would smell as sweet ;' but there is a great deal more in a name than the poet seems to have thought. To quote the language of one of my entomological friends, suppose that roses were popularly called by the name of that well-known plant that spreads its broad leaves along the wooded parts of our Run — the ' skunk-cab- bage ' — what lover would dare to present to his mistress a bouquet composed of flowers bearing such an un- savory appellation ? Or what lady, if she had such a bouquet actually presented to her, would trust her nos- trils within a foot of it ? Now, because we in America have chosen to call what are, properly speaking, ' Cica- SEVENTEEN YEARS UNDER GROUND. 361 das,' by the oiniuous name of 'locusls,' people have thoughtlessly jumped at the couclusiou that they must have the same voracious appetite as the 'locusts,' whose dreadfully destructive habits are so well de- scribed in Holy Scripture. However, this is aside from our natural history, to which wo had better return. "' The eggs of the harvest-fly hatch in aljout six weeks after being deposited. The young insect when it bursts the shell is one-sixteenth of an inch long. In form it is somewhat grub-like, being longer iu proportion than the parent insect. It is furnished with six legs, the first pair of which are very large, shaped almost like lobster- claws, and armed with strong spines beneath. On the shoulders are little prominences in the place of wings, and under the breast is a long beak for suction. The little creatures, when liberated from the shell or fine membrane which envelopes them after leaving the eggs, are very livelj', and their movements are as sprightly as ants. Now follows a very interesting act of instinct. There the wee bodies are, far up at the top of the tree ; but Nature has decreed them a life under ground. How do they get there ?" '^ Wy crawl down the tree," exclaimed Harry. "No; that would, indeed, seem an easy way. But many perils might lurk in that winding path along the twigs, branches, and trunk. Nature has provided a better way. Tlie mother Cicada has fortunately lO' cated her egg-nests near the tips of the outer limbs. And now, moved by a law wliich none of us can pre- sume to comprehend, llie young insects run to the side 362 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. of the twig and deliberately loosen their hold. Their specific gravity is so small tliat they fall through the air as softly as a featlier. On reacliing the ground they inunediately bury themselves in the soil, burrowing by means of their broad and strong fore-feet, which, like those of the mole, are admirably adapted for digging." (Fig. 117.) "This is wonderful !" exclaimed Aunt Hannah, lay- ing down her knitting work. "Who would have thought to find such wisdom in so insignificant a creature ?" " "Wonderful, indeed !'' added the Mistress, and Abby echoed the note. "But," queried tlie Doctor, "is it quite accurate to think of such behaviour as 3'ou describe as the result of wisdom in the young Cicadas ? Doesn't this look like a case of fore-ordination in Nature, which requires one to postulate an Outside and Infinite Wisdom V "Let me read you," I responded, taking a volume iVom the table, "what tlie eminent naturalist. Dr. Har- ris, says, an author to whom I am indebted for much of the information here given. This is what he writes on this point : ' The instin(;t which impels them [the young Cicadas] thus fearlessly to precipitate themselves from the trees, from heights of which they can have formed no conception, without any experience or knowledge of the results of their adventurous leap, is still more remarkable than that which carries a gosling to the water as soon as it is hatched. In those actions that are the result of foresight, of memory, or of ex- perience, animals are controlled by their own reason : FiG. 117.— A LEAP FOK LIFE— THE CICAPA UXDEUflKOUNI). 364 TENANTFi OF AN OLD FARM. as, in those to which they are led by the use of their ordinary senses, or by the indulgence of their common appetites, they may be said to be governed by the laws of their organization. But, in such as arise from spe- cial and extraordinary instincts, we see the most strik- ing proofs of that Creative Wisdom which has im- planted in them an unerring guide, where reason, the senses and the appetites Avould fail to direct them. The manner of the young Cicada's descent, so different from that of other insects, and seeming to require a special instinct to that end, would be considered incredible, perhaps, if it had not been ascertained and repeatedly confirmed by persons who have witnessed the proceed- ing.' And now," laying the book down, " let us go on with our history." "During their descent into the earth, the Cicadas seem to follow the roots of plants. They are found at- tached to those which are most tender and succulent, which they perforate with their beaks, thus imbil)ing the vegetable juices, which constitute their sole nour- ishment." (See Fig. 117.) " Is not this an injury to the trees ?" asked Penn. "Doubtless it often is ; and I am disposed to believe that the chief injury done by tlic Ilarvest-fly is in this stage and manner. Indeed, an examination of the roots of a decaying fruit-tree has shown as the cause of dis- ease a host of young Cicadas clinging to the roots with their beaks piercing the bark so deep and firmly as to keep them hanging for lialf an hour after removal from the earth." SEVENTEEN YE Alt S UNDER GROUND. .'365 " How far down do the Cicadas go?" asked reiin. ■' I have heard said that they burrow to an imineuse distance — ten or twelve feet from the surface." " The question is fairly answered by the fact that the insects must live upon roots, which rarely descend very deeply. Our connnon annual Cicada, Pruinosa, of course lives in this condition for only a twelvemonth ; but the young Septemdecim spend seventeen years in these dens and caves of the earth." "What in the world do they do all that time?" asked Abby. "A hard question," I replied, "and one must frame an answer as much by fancy as by facts. At least we may say that they burrow back and forth amid the maze of roots, and drink long and deep from the streams of savorj^ sap, which they tap with their beaks. They thrive and grow in size. They take no end of sleep. Doubtless they greet each other in their silent way and pass who knows what communications ? in the m3'ste- rious language of the mute children of the insect world. Maybe they peep and mouse into the tunnels and caves of worms, snails, and countless other ci'eatures who share with them these Plutonic abodes ; and per- haps vary the monotony of life, like civilized man, by wars of oftense and defense. Shall I give further guess ?" "Xo, no !" that is quite enough," Abby laughingly rejoined, " to give one a fit of the blues at the very thought. I have often had my sympathies profoundly moved over the dreary fate of my fellow-creatures who spend their life 366 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ' Down iu a coal mine underneath the ground, Digging dusky diamonds all the year round.' " But here is a destiny whose intoleralile dreariness, even for a young bug, passes imagination. It paralyzes one's pity by its very magnitude. Dear, dear, what a monotonous fate !" " No doubt, Miss Abby, your sympatliy would be quite wasted upon our Cicada pupie, who are enough lilvc many of our own species to find a paradise in the most monotonous round of unthinking and inactive ex- istence. As the years roll on, the four small, scale-like prominences on the Cicada's backs, which represent and actually contain their future wings, begin to swell. The long period of pubation is nearly done. Indeed life, at last, is nearly over, and it is to end in a brief glory of sunlight, wings, love and music. There is a strange stir iu the thin blood of the insects that bids them mount upward. They cut their way through the soil by cylindrical passages, often very circuitous, the sides of which are firmly cemented and varnished so as to be Avaterproof. These burrows are about five-eighths of an inch in diameter, are filled below with earthy matter removed by the pupa in its progress. They can be traced by the color and compactness of their con- tents to the depth of from one to two feet, according to the nature of the soil. The upper portion, to the ex- tent of six or eight inches, is empty, and serves as a habitation for the insect until the period for its exit arrives. Here it remains during several days, ascend- mg to the top of the hole in fine weather for the benefit SEVENTEEN YEARS UNDER GROUND. 3C.7 of warmth and air, and occasionally pcepini: forth, ap- parently to reconnoitre, but descending again on the occurrence of wet or cold wijather. "• The advent of hard rains sometimes develops the ingenuity of the pupae in a remarkable way. On one occasion, about the time of their first appearance in one of GUV ueigliboring counties, there fell a series of heavy rains. Evidently the expectant Cicadas were seriously threatened with a fate like that of the Noachian world, and so set themselveis to build an ark of refuge. A tloating retreat was beyond their powers, but they liter- ally rose superior to the situation, by carrying their burrows above the surface of the ground ! Here is a drawing of one of these finger-like turrets, showing the exit hole from which the pupa escaped when the waters had subsided. Here I draw a section view of the turret, which shows the mode of operation. The pellets of earth have been pushed up above the surface to the height of from four to six inches, leaving in the center a gallery about five-eighths of an inch in diame- ter a continuation of the underground burrow. The outside measurement is about one inch and a quarter. The tube from which the drawing is made was a little bent at the top, but many turrets were straight and several instead of being single branched near the sur- face from a main chamber below, and a pupa lodged in each branch. You can see that this tube is a continua- tion of the burrow, and that the pupa when disturbed by the over-wet soil had only to mount to the top of its tower and be safe. When the time for transformation SEVENTEEN YEARS UNDER GROUND. 360 came, it backed down the tube and escaped. (Fig. 118.) " We have come now to the last stage in the history of this reri.ai'kable insect. The period for its great change has at lengtli arrived. The seventeen years of grubbing in the dark ground are over. The voice of Nature is calUng within witli resistless power, 'Come up higher !' The time appointed for escape is usually the nighl. There would seem to be good reasons for this, for a host of enemies await them, and at best a multitude will perish. Difterent quadrupeds attack them ; birds devour them ; cannibal insects, as dragon- flies and soldier-bugs, make them their prey ; even ants assail them with success, while hogs and poultry greed- ily feast upon them. "For several nights in succession the pupfe continue to issue from the earth. Above fifteen hundred have been found to arise beneath a single apple tree, and in some places the whole surface of the soil has been cut as full of holes as a honeycomb by the eager insects breaking through their prison wall from their long con- finement." "At what time of year does this occur?" Abbey asked. " The date of egress varies with the latitude. In the South the pupse escape in February and March ; here in Pennsylvania about the last of May, but in Massa- chusetts not until the middle of June." " But the yearly kind comes out later 'u that," sug- gested Hugh. "Yes ; Pruinosa begins to appear with us about the 370 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. close of July, and for this reason has been called the Dog-day Harvest-tly. After the egress they mount the trunks of trees or other convenient object, and fasten themselves securely by their claws. Then occurs that change which most country-hving people have watched with Avonder. After a brief rest the pupse begin to cast off their amber-colored skins. These have become hard and dry, and the work of emerging is not an easy one. " At last, after repeated exertions, the shell cracks, a slit is made lengthwise along the back, through which the cicada pushes its head and l^ody. Next the wings and legs are withdrawn in succession from their sepa- rate cases. The pupa is an imago now ; at last it is free ! It leaves its empt}- pupa-skin almost entire still fastened to the tree, and crawling to a little distance awaits the completion of its great change. At tirst emergence the insect is wholly unfit for flight. It is in a sort of border state of existence between its old earth life and its future air life, and is fit for neither. The wing-covers and wings are small and opaque, but, being perfectly soft and flexible, they soon stretch out to their full dimensions. The body is swollen to an unwieldy bulk, but in the course of a few hours the superfluous moisture has evaporated. The work of transformation is ended ; the creature is a perfect insect, with strength to mount upon wing and fly. (Fig. 111).) "Soon the rolling drums of the males are heard sounding their love-call to their mates. In a fortnight the mother insect begins to lay her eggs, and in the yia. 11'.).— OUT uF TUE suell at 1.A;T ! Six 873 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. space of six weeks the whole generation has sunk into silence and death. This ends my story ; and now, Doctor, I yield theteacher's chair to you." "My only difficulty in this case," the Doctor began, " is an ' embarrassment of riches,' for the Cicadas figure very freely in classic literature. They were especially in favor among the Greeks, who regarded them as sacred as the Egyptians did the Scarabaeus beetle. Indeed the Egyptians also evidently held the Cicada in reverence, for, in their hieroglyphics, a painted figure of that insect represented a priest and holy man, as well as a musician. I have been somewhat in doubt whether, in my selections, I may not have con- founded these insects with the grasshoppers ; but I think that in the following references the true Harvest- fly {Tettix in the Greek) is intended. Among the Grecians the Cicada was especially sacred to tlie muse of song, and its note bears the same name as the sound of the harp. A Cicada sitting on a harp was the usual emblem of the science of music. The origin of this custom, according to Strabo, was this : Two rival musicians, Eunomis of Locris, and Ariosto of Rbcgium, were alternately playing upon the harp in a musical contest when Eunomis unfortunately snapped a string of his instrument. The accident would certainly have cost him the prize had not a Cicada, pitying the dis- appointed musician, flown to him, and, perching on his harp, supplied the place of the broken string Avith its melodious voice. Thus it secured to him an easy victory over his antagonist." SEVENTEEN TEARS UNDER G BOUND. 373 "That was very good, indeed, for Eunoinis," ex- claimed Abby, "but did the Cicada have no pity for poor Ariosto ? It Avas partial dealing, I think, for a divine insect." " True enough, ]\Iiss Abby ; but the gods of Greece had their special favorites among the mortals, very much like the occupants of the political Olympus in these degenerate days. You mustn't ask me to defend the rather eccentric behaviour of the classic deities ; I only tell the stor}"^ as I find it. " The poets seem to have been as partial to the Cicada as the gods, for its praise is sungljy nearly every Grecian bard from Homer and Hesiod to Anacreon and Theocritus. Here, for example, is the way in which the muse of Anacreon celebrates its virtues : " ' Happy creature ! What below Can more happy live than tliou ? Seated on thy leafy throne, Summer weaves thy verdant crown. Sipping o'er the pearly lawn, Tlie fragrant nectar of the dawn, Little tales thou lov'st to sing, Tales of mirth — an ins(>ct king I Darling of the tuneful nine, Phrebus is thy sire divine ; ' PlKPbus to thy note has given Music from the spheres of heaven.' " You can readily see from this how the highest com- mendation of a singer was to excel the Cicada in song. ISTaturally, the metaphor was carried into the realm of orator}', so that the music of Plato's eloquence was 374 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. only comparable to the voice of this insect. Homer, in his Illiad, compared his good orators to the Cicadas, ' which, in the woods, sitting on a tree, sent forth a delicate voice.'' "However, the complimentary bards do not have it quite all their own way, for here and there a protest is heard against the common praise. Virgil, in his Georgics, speaks of the Harvest-tiies as insects of a dis- agreeable and stridulous tone, and accuses them of bursting the very shrubs with their noise. Whether this is a case of national jealousy, or evidence that the musical ear of Italy was as delicate then as now, I will not undertake to decide." "It seems impossible," the Mistress said, "that so cultivated a people as the ancient Greeks could have been so destitute of musical taste as to attribute such virtues to the discordant squeaking of a male Cicada. It is really hard to believe !" " Perhaps," the Doctor suggested, "you may prefer to explain the fact by a not uncommon social phenom- enon nowadays. Have you not observed that it only needs that a few people of approved position and taste should declare a thing 'divine,' in order to bring the mass of so-called ' society ' on their knees before it ? Pray, how could the Greeks oppose the dictum of their literary guild and authorities of culture, combined with the tradition of their ancients ? It would have been high presumption to trust their own ears in the face of such testimonies. But here is another protest which, perhaps, will not command the ladies' sympa- SEVENTH KN YHARS UNDER GROUND. 375 thy quite ,so readily. It is an old witicism, attributed to the incorrigible Uhudiau sensualist, Xenarchus, and gives a reason for the supposed hapi)iness of the har- vest-tlies very dillerent from that of Anacreon : ' Happy the Cieadas' lives, Since lliey all have — voiceless wives V " "O the wretch !" exclaimed the Mistress, laughing. " To be sure, he was a wretch,"! remarked, "and a false philosopher at that, for my observation lias been that men are not only more curious, but more talkative than women. But I am obliged to the old cynic, never- theless, for his couplet shows that even at that early date the fact had been observed that the males alone are gifted with sound-producing organs." "I must not weary you with my quotations," the Doctor resumed ; " but I may tell you that the rage for decorating tlie person with images of insects, Avhich prevails so widely just now, is only a revival of an old custom. The Athenian elders, even before the time of Thucidides, Avere accustomed to fasten golden images of the Cicadas in their hair, and the same were worn as ornaments on dresses. These were emblems of their claims to being Autocthones [Avvox^ovez).^ that is, as we would say, Aborigines, original inhabitants of the soil. The significance of the emblem lay in the belief that Cicadas sprung from the soil, an origin which the Greeks might well be excused for attributing to them in view of their peculiar habits. " I add that the Greeks, notwithstanding their ven- 376 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. eratiou for these insects, made tliem an article of food, and accounted them delicious, ^liau takes occasion to reprimand the men of his age for the fact that an ani- mal sacred to the Muses should be strung, sold, and greedily devoured ! It does seem to have been very improper and inconsistent behavior ; but the ancient Greeks are not peculiar among their fellows in devour- ing the objects of their worship, or, perhaps I should say, worshipping the objects that they devour." CHAPTER XIX. HOUSEKEEPING IN A HASKET. These house chrouifles do not record all the conver- sations held around the great sitting-room lireplaee during the year of which I' write. 8ince undertaking to edit the notes accumulated at that time, I have been compelled to omit many subjects. I am not sure that the most interesting themes have always been chosen for these published papers. At least, it is safe to say that many that greatly interested our circle will not here appear ; for it only needed that Ave should unite our knowledge and experience upon the life-history of the humblest of the Insect Tenants of our Old Farm, in order to insure a fund of agreeable informa- tion. Certainl}', some insects had greater attraction for us than others, but there was enough and to spare in the natural history of any one of them. Time and again our little circle learned the truth, well known to naturalists, that the objects which yield the richest store under investigation are those which lie neai'est at hand. From such objects we selected our subjects, leaving many untouched ; and from such selections agam these published notes have been gleaned. I make bold to speak of this lest some one should think that these scant studies cover the field of entomology. 24 2^" 378 TENANT8 OF AN OLD FARM. Nay ; it is true hero, as Jurrold said of the soil of Aus- tralia, one has but to '' tickle the face of nature with a hoe and she laughs with a golden harvest." We but touched the surface of the Insect World in our Conver- sations, and I am scarcely doing so much in these notes. Meanwhile, the season steadily advanced. Thanks- giving l)ay came in with a whirl of tempest and snow that marked the advent of winter. Again the days brightened, and the early weeks of December recalled the mingled softness and severity of November. Christ- mas came with its good cheer, and a sunny holiday week closed with a real winter storm, and a snow that whitened all the woods and fields. Shut in, as we were, by the heavy \veather and our solitary site from the society of neighbors and friends, and thrown back upon our own resources for enjoyment, we came to look for the weekly or semi-weekly entomological meet- ings with increased pleasure. Surely there is a valuable hint here for many country homes. It is true that a specialist cannot often be found to lead the winter- night conversation ; but the printed page of book or magazine may w-ell take his place. There are few home circles where individual studies and observations could not add running comments of real value. It was rare for us to pass the appointed time without a Conversation ; and the preparation therefor^coUect- ing and arranging specimens, making outline sketches and brief notes, gave to my mind an agreeable occupa- tion that was quite needful alike to ward ofl discontent HOUSEKEEPING JN A BASKHT. V,V,) iiiul thoughts of business aniiirs. Change and rest gi'ailually wrought their lielpt'ul mission, and liealthi'ul days and sleept'ul niglits slowly returned to me. To be sure, as the winter advanced, 1 lost the ad- vantage of tield studies, with the open air exercise whicli tiiey involved. There was, indeed, opportunity for looking into the winter habits of my insect friends which was improved with good results ; but for the most part we fell back upon the information gathered during summer and autumn. This was little detriment to our studies, as I had anticipated the difficulty, and assisted by my willing and active aids, had made large collections which could always be supplemented from the city museum. " What is the fun V" asked the Mistress as I came in on one of these collecting days, bringing a handful of basket-worms. '• Only another example of Dan's ' curus ' ways," I replied. " He has proved a real god-send to me, for I think it would be well nigh impossible in a month's journe}' to strike so rich a vein of superstition as lies under his black skin. He has given me a new insight of the strange relations between my entomological pets and my fellows, and shown me how deeply and strangely the world of men has been impressed by the insect world." "Well, and what new discovery have you made this morning V" " Something about these basket-worms. You know the large arbor vitte tree in the back vard has been 380 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. badly infested by them ; the whole top was stripped of leaves, and the cone-shaped baskets Avere pendant from every branch. I fear the tree may be beyond help, but I resolved to try to save it by plucking and burning all the baskets. I ordered Dan to get the orchard step- ladder and help me in this work. I was surprised to see him hold back and seek to avoid the duty, but he finally obeyed and gathered the branches into a hea]') as I clipped them from the tree. However, he kept muttering over his task, and shook his head continually in a most solemn way. I set this down as one of his oddities and took no notice of it. The tree was stripped at last and a great pile of basket-worms gathered. "Now, Dan," I said, "get a few kindlers and we shall make a little bonfire." " Yd aint gwine to burn up desc tings. Mars May- fiel', be yo ?" " Certainly ; why not ? Come, hurry up !" The old fellow took ofl" his hat and stood twisting the brim around and around through his fiugers. He looked as solemn as the grave. I began to show some vexation, I suppose, for he said : " Mars Mayfiel', I done sarve yo tro aiid faiful, alluz ; an' alluz meauter do my duty 's well 's I know how. But dar 's some tings wat a man haint no right ter do, nur ax anoder man ter do for 'im. An' dat's jes one uv 'em. Ef yo'll please 'scuse me from doin' dat, I'll be powerful bleeged ter yo. I ax yo pardon, but clar to goodness, Mars'r T can't do dat ting." I saw that he was in serious earnest, and relieved JWUSEKEEFING IN A BASKET. m\ his anxioty at once. " All right, Dan, I won't ask you to do this Avork if you object so seriously. But what's your reason for declining ?" " I done got conscience agin it, sir." "Conscience! against killing these caterpillars that are destroying your trees ? You surely can't be in earnest, Dan ?" " Can't help it, sah. I'se dead in yarnest, I shore yo. It's jes dis a-way. Dem's wat we uns call fire- wood billies [billets] ; an' wat de ole folks saze is, dat de}^ is nuffin mo' nur less dan human critters wats a- been punished fer stcalin' wood Aven day wuz alive an' in de body. Dey's jes been turned inter dese billies dej'selves, an' so dey go aroun' totin dey sacks ob leetle sticks, and hangin' dar in de win', col' an' chill enough de whole winter froo. 'Tempsychoses — dat's wat Latimore's ole Aunt Sue used to call it. jS'ow, Mars Mayfiel', I 'low 3'ou doan bleeve dat ; but, yo' see, I dncii; an' I couldn't git consent nohow to 'gage in a-burnin' ob dem pore tempsychoses. Dey's pun- ished enough, I reckon, already ; an' dough dey is turned inter billies ob fire-wood, I doan want ter be de man wat put's de fire to 'em. We's all powerful weak, sah, an' like to go astraj^ an' ef ebrybuddy wat steals now-a-days done got turned inter billies, dar'd be a heap mo' tempsychoses hangin' 'roun' de trees, sah, dan dey is now. I doan' mean no disrespect, indeed I doan', but dat's w'y I can't 'bey dat order." "Well, I have had a similar experience with Dan," said the Mistress, laughing, when T had finished my 383 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. story, " A few days ago I asked him to carry a bundle up-stairs and put it into the blue-room. He refused politely enough but decidedly. 1 wondered at his reliellion and asked him for a reason." " T nebber goes niter dat room, Mis' IMayfiel'," he said, "an' I nebber did, and, please de Lor', I nebber will." "AVhy not. Dan ; what's the matter with the room ?" "Matter enough, ma'am. Hoav d'yo spose dem tracks got up on dat ceiling ? No dorg nur mann ebber walked ober de roof in dat away, head down'rd. Xo, no !" and he shook his head solemnly, " dar's been bad business dar. Yo' may depen' ! Xo mortals nebber made dem tracks ! An' ole Dan doan wan ter git his head in-uuder 'em." The room which had thus excited Dan's superstition is a back chamljer on the south side of the second floor. The ceiling has been pi-eserved precisely in the state in which it was built a century ago. It is made of plain unpainted boards, which are reall}' the floor of the loft above. The rough rafters upon which they are nailed show in all their virgin plainness. A small square boxed hole serves as a ventilator through the roof. The ancient side-door retains the old-fashioned " bobin " latch, and a very old chest of drawers adds to the quaintness of the chamber. As one enters the room and glances upward, he is surpris;ed to find a number of dog-tracks upon the ceiling ! There they are, their strong leather-brown HOUSEKEEPING TX A BASKET. 383 color showing distinctlj' even against the age-browned Ijoards. How did the dog-tracks get there f In one corner of the roof are the indistinct outlines of a pair of naked luinian feet. Some one seems to have scrubbed there until they arc recognized with difficulty, but human footprints they certainly are. The origin of these "tracks" has been for many years a fruitful subject for gossip among humbler country-side folk. But there is not much mysterj' about it according to the ToAvnes family tradition. The board-yard at which the lumber was bought was also the tan-yard, and feet that had passed through the liquid tan had walked across and left their prints upon the boards which good Friend Townes had loaded up for his new house. No one thought worth while to plane them oft', and so they were nailed down, tracks and all ! Many a tidy housekeeper had tried her hands and temper at the task of scrubbing oft' the marks ; but at last they came to be valued for their oddity. [Nevertheless, there was this disadvantage, that in some minds the mysterious dog-tracks awakened nearly as much consternation as did the " handwriting on the wall " at Belshazzar's feast. Poor Dan of course fell a victim to the myster}-. Who would accept so simple an explanation as that which we have given ? Too plain entirely, that ! No, no ; the feet that left those prints upon the ceiling were not of mortal mold ! The room " wasn't zactly ' /taii/ff?.' "' Dan agreed, but he steadih' refused to compromise himself with the " sperits " by entering 384 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. it. Queer old Dan ! His character had a most har- monious setting in such a quaint old house. In our conversation upon the " Tailor Insects," the basket or bag-worms had the first place. I had collected a number of interesting specimens from the old farm and from a grove at Shadybank, the home of one of my neighbors. These had been gathered from several si^ecies of trees widely differing in character — the arbor vitre, white pine, larch, cypress, Scotch syca- more, American sycamore or buttonwood, English walnut, silver maple and sugar maple. The caterpillar therefore has a wide range in the selection of its food-plant, and thus has immense ad- vantages in the struggle for life and the chance to increase man's struggle. "The basket-worm is the caterpillar of a species of moth sometimes known as the house-builder moth (Oiketici). The insects ax*e also called Canephoroe, or basket-carriers, and the Germans call them Sacl-trar/er, or sack-bearers. These specimens all belong to one sjiecies ( Theridrypterix ephemerrpfm'mis), which is widely distributed throughout our vicinity. " Let us take up our history of the insect at the point when it appears as a larva. So far as we know, the eggs are laid by the female within the case, and arc there hatched out. The first act of the young worm is to spin around itself a silken case, open at both ends. This becomes at last an extremely tough substance, narrow at the bottom, widened out at the middle, and again narrowed at the top into a tube, widest at the riG. 120. — BASKET ON PINE 38c 386 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. rim. Look at some of these cases ; most of them ai'c of this year's brood, and contain a crysalis, from which an Ephemeraform Moth will emerge next summer. Here is one that fed upon the pine ; you observe how the long needle-like leaves of the tree have been at- tached to the outside of the case, and liang down far be- low the end (Fig. 120.) Here is another that has l)cen made upon arl>or vitse, and the leaves and oblong FIG. 121. — BASKKT WOKM DUAWX UP 1 FEED OH SPIN. cone.s of the plant completely conceal the silken en- velope. This tree or shrub is a favorite food-plant of this s])ecies, at least I have frequently found the worm upon it. Here is a third specimen, a small one, which is completely covered with the feather-like bracts of FIG. 123. — A PROSPECTIXfi T!A(?WnRM. 88T 388 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAR3f. the Scotch sycamore. A few stamens and bits of twigs assist the ornamentation. The case hangs to the mid- rib, and the opening cut in the leaf, all around the case-stalk, shows where the insect has been feeding." " What is the use of these patches and bars ?" asked Abby. "Are they simply for ornament like the beads and buttons that ladies sew upon their dresses ?" " I suspect that the caterpillar has not yet reached the stage of development at which it is either troubled or gladdened by the testhetics of dressmaking. The ha1)it is probably protective. And yet one would think that the extremely tough case which envelops it would ])e quite sufficient armor against all assault of foes and stress of weather. Nevertheless, this leafy coat of mail, which, as you see, sometimes wholly covei's the sac, must greatly add to the protective value of the cov- ering. The caterpillar has a soft, hairless body, and is thus more exposed to attack than many others ; but certainly Nature appears to have favored this creature far above its fellows." " How does the worm manage to trim her coat in this wise ?" asked the Mistress. " I have some drawings here that will enable me (o answer you. But it will be necessary first to explain the manner of eating. The larva has pei'fect control of its own movements, notwithstanding the fact that it carries its house upon its back. It can thrust its body out of the sac - month mitil nearly the whole of it is exposed, and twist and bend itself in all directions. (Fig. 122.) HOUSEKEEPING IN A BASKET. 389 "•I have .seen siK'ciniens that had dropped from the trees hanghig by a thread and «(juiriuiug, bending and snapping their bodies in the oddest wa_ys, while the cai; to the case. So tar as I have observed, this is always done at or near the mouth of the sac ; at least I never saAV a worm stretch its mouth backward and downward to sew a patch to the lower part of its case." '• But how do they get there ? See here !" exclaimed Abby, "the leaves and chips are scattered all along the basket, from top to bottom. The caterpillar must have reached down to these points in order to fasten them there." Abby's opinion evidently had a unanimous verdict of approval from the members of the circle who were care- fully examining the baskets. T was therefore bound to defend my assertion. " You forget. I think, that the Ephemeraform larva is a growing creature, unlike the moth itself, which emerges a perfect insect of full growth. It begins as a small worm, eats small quantities, and, as you ma}^ ob- serve, down here toward the foot of the case sews on very small tags. But after it has fastened on these pieces — to the mouth, remember — it grows itself, and so also does the case, which it continually stretches and enlarges. You can easily see. therefore, that the mouth of the case is continually changing, moving up- ward as the worm feeds, just as does the opening of Aunt Hannah's stocking as she knits. The pieces sewed upon the cap of the case thus appear, in an adult caterpillar, precisely as they are here, scattered along the outside from top to bottom. Is that clear to you ?" 393 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARAf. "T quite understand it now," said Abl)y ; "but 1 am still at a loss to know how the pieces are put on. Can you explain that ?" "In part at least; for I have seen the process in worms feeding upon arbor vitte. Take one example which may illustrate others. In this drawing (Fig. 124) the worm has cleared a goodly space around it and has eaten along a twig toward the outer point. Now, suppose that Just where its head is shown, it cuts quite through the twig, whether by accident or design I cannot say. Of course the outer part drops down. But. while eating, the worm frequently, quite constantly, indeed, spreads its viscid silk along the leaf and so keeps it attached on both sides to the upper edge of the sac, or to its own mouth- parts. " Thus, the tip of the twig or leaf, when it is severed from the stem, instead of falling to the ground, simply drops alongside of the case to which it is held by the slight filament that attaches it to the sac, or as in many instances, to the caterpillar's spinnerets. In either case, the twig, leaf, stem, or cutting remains, and after being drawn up, adjusted and tightened by the worm, sticks tightly. As the creature is con- tiniially moving its spinning tubes around the top of the sac, these fastenings are continually being strengthened. Thus one piece after another is added, and so the basket grows. No doubt the animal varies her mode of procedure, but so far as I have observed, the process is as I have given it. JIUUKEKEEPING IN A BASKET. ;i9r. " Can the buskcl-worms walk with Mich l)ig packs upon their lacks V" a.^ked llaiTy. ''That they can, and make pretty good time, too. I once timed one that was climbing up a tent pole, and FIG 134. — CUTTING A TWIG OF ARBOK VIT.E. found that it traveled at the rate of three inches a minute, and could have made much better time, I am sure. It walked ten or twelve feet before it stopped, or rather, before I lost i-ight of it in a branch that overhung and touched the tent. Two others were tried in the same way with about the same results. They are odd looking objects as they go along, with their baskets hanging down, held out at right angles, 25 394 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. or even, when small, turned quite erect. Here is a drawing of one climbing a leaf-stalk. (Fig. 125.) " But how do they manage to walk ? I can't under- stand that," said Harry. ''The walking is done altogether with these three fore-legs. Let us suppose that the caterpillar has just made a step. Its head and the upper rings of the body arc thrust beyond the case. It is holding by all its pro-legs. Now it prepares to take a step ; it re- leases first the second pair of legs, and immediately after the first pair, at the same time pushing its head forward. The rings of the body extend like the joints of a telescope, and when the two first legs are ready to be set down, the fore part of the body is well advanced. Then the larva pulls upon the third pair of legs which hold tightly to the surface, and by wrinkling up, or more properly contracting the rings of the middle and hind part of the body, it hitches them forward, and, of course, the whole case comes along. That completes one step, and all others are made in the same way." "Well, well," exclaimed the Mistress, when I had sent my sketch around the circle, " of all curious crea- tures which you have described to us, this basket- worm appears to me to bear away the palm for oddity, I begin to understand why one can be so patient and self-denying in nature studies. Really it must be a great pleasure to find out all these remarkable things." "To me," said Aunt Hannah, " there is something more remarkable than thy husband's patience, or even the habits of his insect friends." HOUSEKEEPING IN A BASKET 395 FIG. 125. — HOW TUE BAG-WORMS AVALK AND CLIMB. " Pray what is that ?" "It is the fact that these creatures have been living their Avonclerful lives and working out their wise ways underneath my very eyes all my life time, and I never saw them ! Since thee has spoken of it, Friend May- field, I remember having observed these objects hang- ing to the limbs of some of our own trees when stripped of leaves in autumn. But it never occurred to me to examine them. Indeed, if I thought about them at all, it was only to suppose them some part of the tree — 396 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. a cone, or something of that sort. I am ashamed, hu- miliated and amazed at my stiipidit}' !" "An honest confession, Aunt Hannah," I said, "and if all who are in like condemnation would speak with like candor, there would be a great ' army of con- fessors,' I assure you. But so it always has been. The ' seeing eye ' is one of the rarest gifts in this world of ours." "Shall I tell you what I have been thinking about ?" asked Abby. "By all means; something pleasant, I am sure, by your smiling face." "I was thinking of the Jubilee Singers." "The Jubilee Singers!" the Mistress exclaimed. " Of all things mundane, why of them ? Your power of association will certainly turn out to be a greater marvel than we have yet heard of." " I am quite in earnest,' Abby responded. " There is one plantation song which those colored students rendered that I never understood until to-day. It flashed into my mind while Mr. Mayfield was telling us how the basket-worm walks. Do you remember the lines ?— ' Im inchin' along like a pore iueh-worm, luchin' along to Jesus !' "Now, I used to think that over-i'ude, if not irrev- erent, even for a plantation hymn ; for it never occurred to me before that the figure is a true and highly ex- pressive one, drawn from the daily observation and adapted to the simple characters of those who sang HOUSEKEEPING IN A BASKET. ?,97 it, albeit somewhat vulgar to our ears. What could be more appropriate than the phrase ' inchin' along ' to describe the motion of your basket-worm and other gcometrids ? And what more natural and apposite metaphor could l)e found for the halting, hitching, timorous progress of some souls in the spiritual life ? If we grant that all objects in nature are of equal worth and standing, the ' inch-worm ' is entitled to a place among poetic emblems, and the rude plan- tation hymnists' figure is a literary gem." " I find myself in the affirmative," I remarked, " on all these points ; at least I am not prepared to dissent from either the Mistress, Aunt Hannah, or Miss Abby. I suppose, therefore, that I may resume the story of the basket-worm, for I have not yet quite finished. Some one asked me if the caterpillar has a covering to the mouth of its case. Ko, but it has several ways of clos- ing it. If it is walking along or feeding, at an}' alarm it instantly draws itself up and forces the open mouth closel}'' against the stem or leaf, which then serves as a door." "That's just the way a snail does with its shell," suggested Harr3\ "I 've often seen 'em !" "Precisely. The soft body of the snail is thus pushed within its hard shell while the rock to which it clings closes the opening. If the caterpillar happens to be hanging by the stay-thread or loosens its hold upon the leaf, it instantly grasps the upper rim of the sac just within the mouth and pulls the edges together over its head, as Harry might close a grain-bag with 898 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. his hands after backing inside of it. When the worm restri fi-om feeding it proceeds in this way, and sews tlie mouth up securely. It will often hang thus during much of the day time, and in t\\Q cool of the evening come out to eat. I have seen the branches of an arbor vitse tree fairly astir with the number of basket-worms that come out at nightfall to feed. Of course the exit is easy, for they have only to cut the inner fastenings with their sharp teeth. "When the larva is about to become a pupa it shuts up the case in the last way described, casts oft' its last larval skin, and, without making any other cocoon, awaits its transformation. "Do both sexes have the same bag or basket - making habit ?" asked Hugh. " Yes ; but here comes in another remarkable fact in the life-history of our insect. Like the Orgyia, of which you have already learned, the female of Ephe- meraform is wingless. Indeed, if you examine the specimen you will notice that she has the merest apologies for legs and antennte — in fact, closely resembles her larva. A more helpless creature it would be hard to find ; and so, like the discreet matron of Scripture, she is a "keeper at home," though, for that matter, there is nothing else for her to do. She never leaves her case, not even to receive her wooers, who must seek her inside her own house." "How, then, pray, does she ever find a mate?" asked the Mistress, " Ah ! she is a thorough model of maidenlv mod- UOUSEKEEPINO /V A BASKET. 389 esty in that respect, for the mate always finds her. Nature has given liiin -wings, decorated him with beaiUiful feathered antenna", and made him in every respect a striking contrast to his ftit, downy, grub-like partner. " As soon as he has transformed, he a])andons his secure castle and hies away to seek his true-love, which is now the one aim of his life. Undoubtedly, the re- tired habits of his ladye ftiire present serious obstacles ; but then, when was ever true lover daunted by difficul- ties ? Sooner or later he finds his mate, w^ho, for her part, spends the short .remainder of her life in laying a number of eggs within her basket home, wherein, by- and-by, a lively brood of young caterpillars are reared. They have regular, restless Anglo-Saxon dispositions, and, as we have seen alread}-, are not content until thej- colonize from the old homestead and set up house- keeping for themselves. It was at this point that we began the history of the basket-worm, and here we must now leave it," CHAPTER XX. SARTOR INSECTORUM. Our next meeting fell upon a genuine winter evening. Snow had fallen during the day, and although the moon rose full, yet ever and anon sharp squalls drove clouds along the sky, intercepting her rays, and dusting the fast whitening earth with feathery falls of snow flakes. Then the clouds scudded away, and the moonlight laid its glory upon the landscape. Looking out from our sitting-room window, Ave saw Luna's broad, jocund face hanging over a neighboring woods, and peering straight along the line of our wide avenue. In the open spaces the light sparkled among the snow crystals, which, as they drifted before puffs of wind, seemed like a phosphorescence of the frost upon a sea of snow. Tlie lane and fields lay in a whiteness that was intense under the full moon1>cams ; shadows of the trees stretching down toward us were deeper in the contrast, and as the branches swayed before the gust, they shifted continually, so that their weird outlines looked like a dance of giants sporting on a cr3'stal floor, and reaching forth their gaunt arms to catch the columns of drift that whirled by like veiled spirits of the storm. Inside the old farm house a cheerful home scene was presented. Dan thoroughly understands the well nigh 400 SARTOR IXSEOTORUM. 401 lost art of " building " an open hearth fire. Flush against the chimney wall a great 1)a(;k-log lay, its heart already well uncovered by the gnawing flames, whose huge triangular bite was all aglow with rosy embers. Hickory sticks of various sizes, laid on in delicate grada- tion, were piled atop of the andirons in front of the back-log. How the big fire did leap and laugh, and spit and sparkle, and hiss and crackle as the flames ate their way into the wood ! The bed of coals beneath continually grew as splints and chunks fell ofl' fi'om the fore-logs, curled up into glowing color upon the hot bed, and then melted away into the common mass of embers. In the hearth-corner the tea kettle kept up a genial sizz-z in answer to the kitten's purr, and the old- fashioned brazen standards of the irons seemed from their polished bulbs and rings to reflect the comfort, brightness and genial warmth of the whole precincts of the hearth. Winter snows are the true soil for the generous cul- ture of home. Home life, home love, home pleasures are indigenous grow'ths in lands wdiere the Frost King claims some season for his own. How^ one hugs his hearth-stone and feels his heart leap up with its fire- flames in gladness over his well-housed loved ones, when he hears the storm rattling at his window ! The table was wheeled in front of our fire, the lamps ■were lit and set upon it, together with boxes of speci- mens, books and the invariable folio of manilla paper for illustrations. Why is it that on such occasions the ladies are sure to find some pleasant and useful occupa- 402 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. tioii for their fingers ? Cortes, the)'^ present a graceful and pleasing feature in the home circle, with pretty work-baskets at their sides filled with its paraphernalia of thimbles, scissors, emery-bag, needles, pins, spools and divers odds and ends, with rolls of broidery bright with many hues on their laps, or tidy pieces of plain sewing, or meshed bands and bundles of knitting work, while trim fingers move briskly, and the tools of their delicate handicraft tinkle amid the music of their tongues. To say nothing of economies, these womanly ways are a vast contribution to the scsthetics of our houses, and show in notable contrast with the ungrace- ful, even ungainly over-consciousness of hands and the mystery of what to do with them, which so often char- acterize the male portion of a family circle. These reflections were started by a glance around our sitting-room on that winter night. All the ladies had some pleasant work for their fingers ; even the click of Sarah's knitting-needles sounded out of the kitchen shadows. But the masculines betrayed l)y their awk- ward attitudes and restless movements the need of some occupation for their hands to give their bearing poise and gracefulness. "Who will discover for man's fingers a suitable and congenial home employment besides rotating a news- paper and manipulating a cigar ? For such a genius a monument more enduring than brass awaits. " Thee spoke of insects se?OT«f/," said Aunt Hannah, as we began our Conversation on Insect Tailors amid the above consrenial surroundings. "I have looked SARTOR mSECTORUM. 403 over these specimens, ami have seen nothing that can fairly be called by that name— at least ac- cording to our ideas of such work. I think I should speak of the bas- ket-worm's lalwr as past- ing rather than sewing. Nor do I see anything dirterent in these nests of spiders, leaf-rolling cater- pillars and cutting bees." "That is true," I re- plied, "if we concede that sewing requires the use of a needle or needle- like implement. Our in- sects do not sew their nests together in the sense or fashion of the tailor- bird or fan-tailed warliler, for example. But sup- pose we deliue sewing as the art of making an artificial covering for the body, then the basket- worm is a true insect tailor, is it not ? " Or, again, suppose we n-^-,v 404 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. define sewing as the art of joining together separ- ate pieces of pliable material by means of threads. Then our basket-worm as well as these Jeaf-rollers and spiders are true tailors, for certainly they do unite leaves into nests by silken threads stretched from one to the other. (Fig. 12(3). Here in this nest of the Insular spider, made in a hickory leaf, you can dis- tinctly see the threads crossing tlie seam from side to side, from one end to the other. Here are some nests of the beautiful Shamrock spider, one spun among the leaves of some vine unknown to me (Fig. 127), the others made out of the leaves of a fern. They are beau- tiful objects even now as dried specimens, and were far more shapely when seen in nature. Now, in these cases and all similar ones, the ends of threads liave been made to adhere to instead of passing through pieces after having been drawn taut, but the eftect is pre- cisely the same in both modes — the threads pull the pieces or parts together, and hold them so. That, I think, may fairly be classified as tailoring, may it not ?" "Yes, but here is a difference," said Abby, joining in the discussion. " The art of the tailor or seamstress has for its object the clothing of the body. Now, if we admit that the basket-worm's case is really such a cov- ering, a true coat or frock, if you please, you cannot say the same of these spider structures. According to your own showing they are houses, not garments." "Well put, Miss Abby, and you shall be fairly an- swered. During the bright autumnal days I pitched SARTOR INSECTORUM. 405 FIG. 127. — LEAF-XEST OF THE SHAMKOCK SI'IDEK, (EPEIKA TRIFOLIUM.) my teat upon the lawn and u.sed it continually for an office and outdoor library, so that by the physician's advice I might be as much as possible in the open air. My tent is sfn-ed — a house or shelter of various pieces of canvas wrought together by the tailor's craft. But what will you do with it if you refuse to allow the spider's nest a place among sewed structures because it is a tent and not a garment ?" (Fig. 127.) 406 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Really, Abby," smilingly remarked Aunt Hannah, "I think that we must admit that Friend Mayfield is right, and receive his insect friends into our worthy guild of spinsters, tailors and seamstresses. For one, I am better content with their association than I would have been before I was favored with a place at these Conversations." " Thauk you. Aunt Hannah. And now I shall pre- sent for the honor of membership a new candidate, the Leaf-cutter Bee [Megachile centuncuJaris). You have better reason for denying her claims to place among the tailor insects than the others ; but on the strength of the importance which I know the cutting department to have in all sewing operations, I venture to include her within this group." "Oh, we will all vote to admit her !" exclaimed the Mistress. " Bees are such genteel insects, and so in- teresting withal, that any member of such a ' highly respectable family ' — to quote a favorite Philadelphia phrase — shall not go a-begging for a seat among the seamstresses. By all means, let us have the leaf-cutter bee." " Well, then, here she is — a thick-bodied insect with a large square head armed with stout jaws. She is not provided with a pollen-basket like the honey and hum- ble bees, but Nature has placed a thick mass of dense hair on the under side of the apex of the abdomen or tail, which she uses for the same purpose. We have two or three species common to the Eastern United States [Megachile centuncaJaris, M. integer^ M. SAJiTOIt TNSECTORUM. 407 hrei'is], having nearly the same habits, which indeed differ Httle from those of their European congeners. The insect begins her nest by boring a hole about the diameter of her own body in the soft pith of an elder stem, or the soft wood of some old tree. Sometimes she digs a cylindrical hole in a beaten pathway. Some- times she economizes her labor by choosing the hollow of a tree, the shelter of a cornice, or the cavities of an old wall for her home-site. Tbis done, she seeks her favorite plant, which is commonly a rose-bush, and begins to harvest leaves. "She makes the cut in almost the same way as the cutting ant, as I have heretofore described it. She flits from leaf to leaf, not that there appears to be any ground for a selection, but somewhat on the principle (whatever it is) that moves certain ladies iu their shopping expeditions. At last she is satisfied, settles upon the leaf, clinging by her feet to its edges. Then she draws her scissors which she carries not at her belt, but on the end of her face. In other words, she opens her mandibles, which are well ordered tools for the purpose, and makes a slit into the edge of the leaf Thence she moves rapidly around the major part of a circle, using her jaws as though one point of a pair of compasses and her feet as the others. The jaws work precisely like a pair of scissors, and with each forward slit the legs are hitched farther along, until the op- posite edge of the leaf is reached. Now she holds the cutting in her jaws, balances it while she poises her body upon fluttering wings, adjusts the severed piece 408 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM between her hind legs and flies away to her hole. Here is a figure representing leaf-cutter bees engaged upon a rose-bush, and beneath them are samples of the cylindrical nests which they construct." (Fig. 128.) " How long does it take a bee to cut out one of these pieces ?" asked Penn Townes. "One individual whose movements were timed, cut, carried ten yards to her nest, fixed the leaf in its place, and returned to the rose-bush on which she was work- ing, at intervals of from half a minute to a minute, and kept this up during an entire morning." " Pretty rapid work that !" " Yes, and you will appreciate it more highly when I shall have told you how she disposes of the leaves. If you turn to our figure (128) you will notice first that the leaves have been used to line the inner surface of the hole, and that the)- form a tube not quite three inches long, Avhich consists of several 'joints,' as I may call them. If you will examine the joints you will perceive that each is made up of three or four pieces, and that the serrated edge, or natural selvage of the leaf, as the ladies might say, is invariabl}- placed on the outside, while the cut margin is put innermost. Do you observe these points ":"' " Yes, we all see." " Here is another fact, if I am not much mistaken," said Hugh. He had been examining the nest carefully, and, as it proved, with a true mechanical eye. "If you take purtickler notice, sir, j-ou'll see that in formin' uv these jiuts the bee has been careful not SARTOR 1j}^ sue TO RUM. 409 FIG. 128. — KEST OF LEAF-CUTTING BEE. (aFTEK BLANCHARD.) to put a jinin over a jiuin. She has laid the middle or solid part of every piece fernent a seam, an' I don't lind nary seam that jines onter another seam. Bein's ther's so many pieces and seams, thet looks es though it mought a-been done a-purpose. Ain't it so ?" '■ You are quite right, and have proved yourself a 20 410 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. good observer, for this point has attracted the atten- tion of naturaUsts. It would really seem that the skill of an experienced joiner had been brought to bear upon this leafy tube." "How are the pieces held together ?" asked Abby. "I don't see any seam — I don't mean Hugh's sort, but the kind a seamstress makes. There's neither sewing nor pasting visible. Are the seams inside ?" "Now you have raised the point which I had in mind at the o.utset when I spoke of the doubtful claim of the leaf-cutter bee to a place among Tailor Insects. In point of fact there is no sewing here at all — not a thread used. The leaves are held in place by the natural spring of the leaf alone. Here are a glass lamp-chimney, a pair of scissors, and some bits of paper. Who will try her hand at building an artificial bee's nest ? Miss Abby volunteers ! Very well, Penn may help you if he will, and see how you two will get along at the mimic work of nest-making." The Mistress cast a sly glance at the Schoolma'am, whose pink cheeks reddened as she shook her head threateningly at me. Aunt Hannah looked up quickl}- from her knitting, and shot a disapproving glance across the table. It would have been an angry glance, perhaps, if the good lady could have nursed wrath, for the growing interest that Penn Townes took in the Yankee maiden was a sore trial to her. Abby was, in- deed, all that her mother love could ask for her son, with one exception — religion. How could she bear to have her onl}' child " turned out," deprived of his birth- SARTOR 1N8EGT0RUM. 411 right privileges for " inarrying out of meeting ?" She who already sat iu the front seats ? whose husband now sat side by side with the head of tlie meeting, an honored elder ? Tliat long line of ancestral faithfulness and honor in the belief and fellowship of Friends, should it be broken off and cease forever by the rebel- lious act of her son ? Poor, dear woman ! it had come to be a great concern upon her mind, and a bitter cross to carry. It was but human that we should sympathize with her struggles within these hereditary bonds ; but for all that it was natural for us to wish success in our hearts to such a thoroughly well-appointed match. Yet between Abby's high spirit and old ideas of pro- priety, and Penn's affection for his parents and con- scientious regard for his ancestral form of Christianity, the issue seemed more than doubtful. But whither am I wandering ? Let us hasten back to the leaf-cutter bee and her nest-making. " About ten or a dozen cuttings are required to form one cell. Each cuttins is bent into a curved form, and jiressed into the burrow in such a manner tnat the pieces fit successively into or overlap one another, and form a small thimble-shaped cell, which is narrowed at one end, and gradually widened at the other initil the width equals half the length. In this the mother bee puts a single egg and some bee-bread, a substance com- posed of pollen mixed with honey. Kext she covers in the opening with two or three circular pieces of leaf, so 413 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. as to keep a bab}^ bee witbin its own pro})er bounds, and proceeds to make anotlier cell." " How many cells does she make, sir ?" asked Hngh. "The nest from whicli our illustrations were taken contained thirty cells. These were not arranged con- tinuously, but in nine separate rows or scries of un- equal length. The longest row contained six cells, and was two and three-quarter inches long. The Avhole leaf structure Avas equal to a length of fifteen inches, and contained about a thousand pieces. I have often wondered at the rare patience of some of our lady friends in building a patchwork quilt out of no end of bits of silk and other stuft'. But here is an insect who may fairly rival them.'" " Here't; your model nest," said Abby, who had by this time completed her task. " I should have found it a far easier Avork "—laughing — " if I could have crept inside my burrow, as the bee does, instead of limiting entrance to a finger or two. But I have been thinking that you have assigned these insects the wrong trade, after all." "How is that ? Where do you place them ?" "With the upholsterers. These leaves are tapestr}'. The bee hangs them upon her walls and ceiling, and lays them as carpets upon her floors. Her handicraft is upholstery, and therein I vote to put her." "Yei'y well, put the little artificer where you may she furnishes an interesting study. By-and-by her eggs become larvpe, feed upon the bee-bread provided by the Forethought uttered through maternal care, SARTOR INSECTORUM. 413 fig. 129. — rolled leaf-nest of toktricid moth, (fkom nature.) spin a slight silkeu cocoon about the tapestried walls of their cradle-cells, go into the pupa state, and in about a month become matui*e bees, and cut their way out into the broad world to fill up their part of ;N"ature's unendiu!? round." 414 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. "Perhaps the most perfect examples of the tailor's art ill the insect world are found among the Lepidop- tera. Butterflies, and especially moths, are famous for sewed habitations." "Moths!" exclaimed the Mistress. "Yon amaze me. I thought they flitted from flower to shrub, and build themselves no homes at all." " That is true of the imago or winged insect," I an- swered. " But you forget that the adult life of moth or butterfly is the shortest part of its existence. In that estate it is really an uninteresting creature, for the most part, and challenges attention chiefly by its form and colors. It is in the caterpillar state, the most odious to the ordinar}' observer tliat the naturalist finds the most interesting habits. Here, now, is a nest made proba- bly by the caterpillar of a species of Tortrix. I found it on the edge of the woods back of Asbury Park within sight of the ocean. I have seen multi- tudes of these globular nests about the size of an Eng- lish Avalnut, rolled up at the tips of the leaves of the great fern, Aspidium thehiptcris (Fig. 129.) See how deftly the leaves have been rounded and sewed into this spherical mass ! And here is the little door out of which the transformed insect made its escape. Small forests of this fern grow in low and moist places along our Atlantic coast, and there you may find colonies of this leaf-roller or their abandoned nests in the months of July and August. " "I have often -noted those clumps of tall ferns in my summer saunterings by the sea," remarked Abby; "but f-.. f : -'if •-'■ FIGS. 134 AND 135. — FEMALE AND MALE OF TUB TENT- CATERPILLAK MOTH. "You are tliinking of the tent-caterpillar," I an- swered, "and an interesting fellow he is, altliough liis habits are certainly ngainst him. We liave two common species closely resembling each other in form and alike in habit. They are the apple-tree tent- caterpillar {Clisiocampa Americana), and the forest tent caterpillar {Clisiocampa sylvatica). The moth is a dull reddish or reddish-brown color, and the female measures about an inch and a lialf across the expanded wings (Figs. 134 and 135). The hollow tongue or tube by which moths imbibe their food is entirely wanting in 422 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. this species, hence it has no power of taking; food, and lives but a few days in tlie winged state, during wliich time the eggs are laid. A large number of the nocturnal visitors to our lamps during the evenings of July belong to this Clisiocampa, and so, without knowing it, you are all familiar with the creature, as you have seen its bewildered behavior when it enters our lighted rooms and flutters wildly about the often fatal flame. " The eggs are deposited upon the small twigs oi fruit trees in ring-like clusters, each composed of from fifteen to twenty rows, containing in all from two to three hundred. They are firmly cemented together, and coated with a tough varnish impervious to rain. The young larvse are fully matured in the egg before winter comes, and they remain in this enclosure in a torpid state throughout the cold weather, and hatch during the first warm days of spring. Their first meal is made of the gummy material with which the egg masses are covered, and their next of the tender buds just bursting. " Soon after hatching thej^ begin to spin the tent-like shelter which gives them their name, by stretching silken threads from point to point across the forks of the twigs whereon they have been cradled. . As they grow they spin new threads, laying them one atop of another, and extending them to adjoining twigs, until the spinning-work has become a close sheet by the repeated overlays. The structure is now more or less irregular in form, according to the relative position of the twigs which support it. Often the nest is located SARTOR mSECTORVM. 423 FIG. 136. — NEST OF THE TENT-CATERPILLAR MOTH. at the top of the twigs which, havii^g a general conical outline, give it naturally the appearance of an old- fashioned Sibley tent or Indian wigwam. (Fig. 136.) " The resemblance is frequently very striking, as may be seen in this figure of a forest tent-caterpillar's nest which I saw growing upon a wild cherry-tree at the base of Round Top on the famous battle-field of Gettys- burg. Numbers of similar structures were fixed among the branches of various trees, whose white texture was brought out sharply against the dark-green of the embowering leaves. As I turned from them and gazed 424 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. upon the martial city — an encampment of the National Guards — whose canvas tents were pitched upon the battle plain and swelling ridge over which the gallant but fruitless charge of Pickett's corps was made, I could plainly see that likeness to which our tent- making caterpillar owes its popular name. The tent here figured was about ten inches in diameter across the base, and its height was nearly the same ; this is about the average size, but many of the tents are larsfer. '' The holes through which the caterpillars enter are near the extremities or angles of the nest, into which they retreat at night, or in stormy weather, and dwell when not feeding. They have regular times for feed- ing, and may be seen marching out of their tent-doors in processions usually twice a da}^ forenoon and after- noon. These processions move in single or double column, over sidewalks, along fences, trunks and branches of trees, until they reach their proper food- plant which they attack with a voracity that brings serious damage when the nests are numerous. "In five or six weeks they mature, when they leave the trees under the resistless impulse of Nature, and wander about in all directions seeking suitable places in which to hide during their crysalis stage. Pre- sently you will find them under the cap-boards and cross-rails of fences, in angles, recesses, and beneath projections of various sorts, spinning tough, yellow oval cocoons enclosed within a slight shelter of threads. Within these cocoons the larvai change to brown SARTOR INSECTORU.U. 425 cr^-salid^f, from Avliich the inolhs escape iu two or three weeks." "Well, sir," said Hugh, "it's an amazin' pleasiu'' history that you've given us, but you'd make it a heap more interestin' to farmers ef you'd tell us wat to do to git rid uv the worms." "Against .some of our insect enemies," I replied, " man struggles at great disadvantage. They attack him in such insidious guise at such unexpected times, at points so inaccessible, in forms so minute, in num- bers so immense, that the wisest and most diligent may be taken unawares. But our tent-caterpillars are no guerillas, but right honest and open foes. They pitch their camps under our very eyes and march out to assault like genuine soldiers iu broad day. If a farmer does not exterminate them or hold them within harmless limits he suffers from his own laziness, in- difference, or neglect." "Well, yes, that's so, I reckon," Hugh responded. "But the plague on 't is that sech a feller's acres git to be a breedin' ground for all sorts uv nuisances, and the rest on us have to suffer with him," "True," I said, "and then there is no remedy but the law ; and the time will come, perhaps, when farmers — who have the majority of votes — will not think it beneath their dignity to enact laws concerning the destruction of insect pests," CHAPTER XXI. NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. Before snov/fall one of the most beautiful walks from the Old Farm leads over the Crum Creek hills to the paper mill of Mr. Lewis Howard. The path threads tlie meadow by tlie Cave Stone, crossing Townes' Run, and so over the field along a pleasant lane to the woodland which is, in fact, the east bank of the creek. A wagon trail Avinds through tlie wood along the verge of the hill and enters the mill road flush upon the creek side. The stream in this vicinity is quite sinuous, and cuts its way by a steep channel among the hills which on either side form the banks. These are in many places so abrupt and heavily wooded, that one pushes his way with difficulty through the underbrush. Here is the " forest primeval ;" here Nature is held in a virginity pure as that which the white man seized from the red Indian's hand. In this wild park Flora holds court, and beneath the boughs of chestnut, oaks, hickory, maple, beech, birch, dogwood and hemlock are gath- ered clumps of laurel, sumach, mammoth ferns, and all the wood plants and wood flowers of the whole region. It is a paradise of Avood insects, too. The large black Pennsylvania carpenter ants march in columns along 426 NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. 427 the great tree trunks, at whose roots heaps of chippings He, showing the industr}- of the busy woodworkers within. The Fuscous ants {fortnica fusca) heredeUvered from the taint of slavery to their Sanguine or Shining Masters, take on an air of forest freedom and build broad mounds fearless of remark instead of skulking within hidden dens ; beetles, crickets and numberless other insects push a thousand trails under the fallen leaves and branches. Here Arachne has gathered many children as into a safe nursery. The woods swarm with spiders, whose webs of varied sorts and sizes hang from limbs, stretch over the water, overlace roots, rocks, crevices, hollow trunks, leaves and logs, and extend from branch to branch across every opening, flapping their stickj^ filaments in the passer's face. How often have I gone to this resort, when anxious to collect a specimen or verify or complete a study of aranead habits, confi- dent that somewhere in this narrow belt of forest my search would be rewarded ! ' At the point where the wagon trail leaves the woods the creek runs close along the mill road, then gradu- ally hugs the opposite hillside, leaving a narrow strip of flatland. It is bordered by a fine row of trees which overhang ihe water. The proprietor has an admirable peculiarity for an American. Some kind genius has written deeply upon the fleshy tablets of his heart the well known plea, " Woodman spare that tree !" — written so deeply, that he will never allow one tree to be cut down if there is an}- possible way to 438 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. avoid doing so. At the end of this row of trees the creek and road make a sharp angle or horse-shoe bend, and bring into view the Franklin Mill. It is a large tine stone structure, set close against the hill and flanked on either side by pretty stone cottages for the work- men. The proprietor's mansion sets upon the crown of the knoll and overlooks the whole pleasing scene. It would be hard to find a mill site more charming and romantic than this. The overhanging trees flushed with the growing hues of autumn ; the rippling music of the creek, as it issues adown the deep ravine, mingling gradually with the thud of water-wheels and clatter of machinery ; the shout of a merry group of children jumping the rope before a cottage door ; the sun lying warm and bright in the lap of the beauti- ful glen shut in from all sights and sounds of the outside world — surely the venerable, kind-hearted pro- pi'ietor who looks on such a scene from his house on yonder hummock, must feel that the lines have fallen to him in pleasant places ! We had taken this walk one day over the withering autumnal fields, among the rustling leaves, through the smell of wood-mold — how sweet to the forester ! — along the beetling banks of shady Crum Creek, for the purpose of seeing the process of paper-making. Our next Conversation touched those natural papei-- makers, the wasps ; and some of our circle wished to draw a comparison — or will it be a contrast ?^ — between the human and the insect methods. We are not to lead our readers through the details (>f the process as NATURE'S FIRST PAPKR MAKERS. 429 pointed out to us by my friend and landlord Mr, Howard, although that might be new, and certainly would be interesting to many. It will suffice that the mode consists substantially in reducing vegetable fibre of wood, straw, cotton, hemp or flax into pulp, from which the moisture is excluded and the residium exposed to a pressure that reduces it to flat sheets. The quality, surface condition and size of sheets are matters quite apart from this essential process. Somewhat thus I briefly stated the results of our visit to the mill, at our conversation. "Have I put it correctly, Mr. Howard?" I asked, for that gentle- man, hearing what subject was to come before us, had asked leave to attend. " Yes, that is about the substance of paper-making," was the reply. "It seems a very simple one, as you put it, sir ; but — there's a whole sea of trouble between that brief statement and even such a result as this " — laying his hand upon our manilla illustration paper. " However, you have hit the fundamental principle of the thing pat enough." "Very well, that is all I care to do. Now, here is a wasp's nest (Fig. 137.) It was collected from the premises of the old Springfield Central school, where our friend. Miss Abby, is now^ engaged. The plain, square, two-story building, as you know, stands in an open, flanked by a grove of more than a score of tall oak-trees. The branches of these oaks are thickly colonized by ringed wasps — "Tailor wasps," I flnd they are called by the countr3^-side people. On one 430 TENA2fT8 OF AN OLD FARM. FIG. 137. — NEST OF THE KINGED OR KU^T-RED WASP (POLISTES ANNULATUS.) tree I counted thirteen nests, and I am quite sure that more were hidden among the leaves. Every tree is occupied, and several nests are hung upon the black- berry vines that skirt the fence close by the wall. Thus, while some of the wasps swing their domiciles far aloft, fifty or sixty feet above ground, others choose sites nearer terra firma. This indifference as to location is more or less evident among those who, like the famous Swiss Robinsons, build their houses in trees, for the nests are scattered indifferently throughout the branches, one of the largest which I have seen being pendant from a limb tliat bends quite N A TURK'S Fill ST PAl ER MAKERS. 43l low. The colony has occupied the school-house grounds for at least a half-centuiy, for meu who were boys that long ago remembered them well. I fancy that exposure to the raids of destructive boys during all these wasp-generations has not been without eflect upon the insects, for most of the nests are placed well out of reach. Indeed, one wonders that any mother- wasps could be found so far freed from a strain of hereditary caution as to venture a location v.itliin reach of puerile projectiles. "It is an interesting sight to observe the worker wasps gathering material for their nests, and it may be seen on any summer day along the lines of fences near the school-house. I have often tried to keep a worker under observation for a prolonged period, but have failed beyond a few consecutive moments. The creature is a perfect embodiment of restless activity. It alights upon a weather-beaten spot, and, bending down- ward its head, plies its strong jaws until a bit of wood is dislodged. Meanwhile, its wings are kept in a state of continual agitation, its abdomen curves and vibrates, and sometimes is turned up at an angle of 45-. Its legs are incessantly lifted and set down, but stifieued out at the moment of dislodging the wood as they are braced for a strong tug. By the time one has well fixed his eyes upon the palpitating creature, it has spread its wings and is away. I follow it at full speed. Once more it alights ; it has struck a good spot for collecting material surely !— a fine, whitish, weather-worn patch of wood whose fibres are exposed. 433 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. This must be a real bonanza for the wasp ! But no ! She glides over the rail with fluttering wings, and is off to another place. Her actions, the reasons tliat seem to determine her choice and final decision are as incomprehensible to me as the proceedings of ladies when on a shopping expedition, " At last, however, she has gallu'red a little ball of wood-flbre ; she throws herself back upon her two pairs of hind-legs, and standing thus in a semi-erect posture, like a squirrel eating a nut, she adjusts the pellet to her jaws with her fore-paws and flies away with it to the nest. This is fastened to the branches by a central stalk which is firmly tied and pasted on. The stalk is usually directed upward, or somewhat inclined, so that the mouth of the cells is downward. The bottom parts of the cells are thus upward, and as they are united and covered with a paper floor the whole series forms a sort of hanging platform. On this platform a bevy of wasp-workers may usually be seen engaged in chewing up the Avoody fibres into pulp, or preparing wax for the cell-covers, or grinding up ' pap ' for the baby grubs. When the pulp is prepared it is pasted in thin flakes on the ledges of the cells, and spread and shaped chiefly by the action of the mandibles, although somewhat aided by the feet. A secretion from the salivary glands of the wasp, which corresponds with the ' sizing ' used by paper mannfiicturers, helps to bind the fibrous pulp into a compact mass that quickly hardens into a rude but efficient pcy/ier maclie. NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. 433 '' The nests are circular or oval in shape and of vari- ous sizes. This specimen is seven inches in diameter, and I have seen one at least one-lialf larger. The size is determined by the number of young, for each of these cells contains a single larva." "Tell us, please, how the nest begins," said Abby. "Do the wasps live through the winter ?" "No; the workers all die with the frost; but a few of the females survive the winter. They hide in cran- nies : for example, under the eaves of your schoolhouse roof, or other sheltered places, and live through the cold months in a torpid state. The warmth of spring summons them from their retreats, and they at once begin the foundation of a family. Having chosen a site they proceed to build a few cells in which they place eggs that in time become larvre. These are fed by the mother until ready to pass into the pupa stage, when the cells are sealed up, and so remain imtil the perfect insects emerge. The first born are workers, and at once take upon them the labors of the colony, leaving the queen to her proper duty of furnishing eggs. The nest grows by the addition of cells along the outer margin, into each of which as finished an egg is placed. The old cells also appear to be used, being cleaned out and again furnished with eggs as soon as the younglings are fairly out of the way. Thus the last baby waspling falls heir to the cradle of its prede- cessor, as is often the case with our own infants." " What are these snow-wliite caps that cover so many of the cells?" asked the Mistress, "I notice that 434 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. some of the cells are without theiu — these along the edges. " "The wliite caps are the 'seals' placed upon the cells when the larva? spin into pupa;. Observe that many of tliese cajis are quite cut around the edges, showing that the young wasps have cut their way out. This specimen was gathered late in the summer, and as it lay upon a table in my library I could now and then hear the rasping of the wasps' mandibles as they gnawed the seal away, and ever and anon would see a youngling creep out of a cell by pushing up the cap like a lid, and then feebly crawl otf and stretch its wings. But most of the inmates died within the cells. Perhajis the dr\-, warm air of my study was unfavora- ble to their escape, or they may have needed the jaws of their nurses to aid their egress."' "Are these caps made of paper, too?" asked Hugh. "No, they are in part a covering which the larvae themselves spin, and in part, probably, a sort of wax, secreted and applied by the workers, very much as with the wax-workers among bees. I leave j'ou now to study the habits of these ringed wasps for jourselves, when next summer comes, and turn to another insect belonging to the same group of social wasps. Here is a hornet's nest, the most famous of our American paper-makers — Vespa viaculata.'' The siiecimen, which had been secured bj' the ener- getic search of Joe and Hai'ry, was eighteen inches long and a foot in diameter at the thickest part. It was a pear-shai^ed structure, whose bulkier end was placed FIG. 138. — NEST OF AMElilCAN HORNET. (VEiiPA MA(JULATA.) 435 436 TENANTS OF AN OLD FAEM. upward as it hung from a strong branch that Avas quite wrapped around, and indeed had been somewhat overlaid by the layers of paper which formed the external envelope. At the bottom of the nest was a round opening which formed the only entrance to the interior (Fig. 138). A second specimen, a little smaller, I had cut quite in tAvo by a longitudinal slit, thus ex- posing the entire structure of the nest. " Here Ave may see the whole cunning Avorkmanship of this active insect. You observe that the outer Avails have been laid on in several layers or sections, more or less regular, and are composed of a strong, coar.-e gray paper. The partition Avails are united at various points, leaving a great number of oblong air-cham- bers." (Fig. 139.) "Is the paper weather-proof?" asked Abby. " Try it," I said, A pitcher of water and a dish-pan were brought, and alter various experiments it Avas found that the Avater rolled freely from the roof, Avhich scarcely absorbed the moisture and left the interior quite dry. '"That is truly excellent," remarked Aunt Hannah. " I wonder that some enterprising genius has not bor- rowed a liint from the hornet and gone to building paper houses." "And Avhy not ?" said the Manufacturer. " We are utilizing paper more and more freely in the civilized arts, and have got even as far as to make railway car- wheels out of it ! Paper tiles or roofs, or even walls may surely be considered a possibility." NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. 437 "Very well," I resumed; "when that triumph is achieved let us moderate our human vain-glory at least so much as to remember that the hornets had by some milleniads the priority of man. Now, look at the in- side furnishing of this nest. Here are six separate circles, terraces or stories of hexagonal cells arranged one above another, and united by tough paper stalks or pillars, which are placed at or near the center. Other similar columns are distributed at sundry points along the floor, thus contributing to its support ; they are formed of long fibres, and broaden out at each end, where they are attached above and below. Each one of the combs, as they are called, resembles the nest of the ringed wasp, which, you see, differs from the hornet in always building a single comb and never enclosing it within walls," " Why is this difference ?" asked Abby. " Ah ! who will tell us ? I have never been able to think of any reason based upon the idea of protection or any other probable necessity which conditions the hornet's life, but from which the wasp is free. It is one of those strange facts which mark the distinct in- dividuality of closely allied species, in accordance with the infinite variety seen in nature, and for which no apparent reason can be assigned." "Except, perhaps," suggested Aunt Hannah, rever- ently, " that infinite wealth of thought and skill which one must think to be the natural outcome of an Infinite Creative Mind." " A just remark, Aunt Hannah ; but whatever ex- 438 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. planation be suggested, the facts are sufficiently inter- esting. If you look again at this open nest you will see that the combs increase in size from the top to the center and then gradually decrease until this last of the series, which is a very small affair. The insect, of course, began its nest at the top, and built downward, having just commenced this lower comb when the work of the colony was forever stopped by Jack Frost. This process, j^ou observe, is the reverse of our human modes of building, and probably will never be adopted by us, notwitstanding the ingenious proposal of the Laputan philosopher mentioned in 'Gulliver's Trav- els ' to imitate this peculiar feature in the hornet's architecture by building the garrets of everj' house first, and then gradually working downward to the lower stories and cellars !" The laugh which this quaint conceit awakened was interrupted by a remark from the Manufacturer : " I believe we do sometimes follow the hornet's order, in sub-aqueous architecture, for example, as when we build a bridge pier in mid-stream Wy caissons. Another example is found in the famous subterranean struc- tures of Rome, known as the Catacombs, which served the primitive Christians not only as cemeteries but as homes and temples as well. But — excuse me ! — I do not wish to play the part of Gulliver's philosopher. " "Have I not heard some such theory ai^plied to the building of the Pyramids ?" asked Abby. " I do not recall the details, but the author starts out with a quo tation from Herodotus who cites a rumor or tradition Fie. 139.-" INTEKIOR OF HORNET'S NEST, SHOWING THE " COMBS." 439 440 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. that the great Egyptian edifices were begun at the summit and builded downward. AVliether the notion were broached by a savant, a hobbyist or a crank, I do not remember, but it surely has a modern advocate somewhere." Here Sarah ventured an observation : "I don't wonder at sich a pesterin' inseck as a hornet buildin' its house top eend fust, or any other contrary way. Fer my part I don't want em buildin' round me nohow ! It's certain bad luck to have 'em make ther pesky nests in one's house, an' foret.'Us that the family '11 be sure to come to want. I'd jest like to have the hull lot here in one good bunch ; I'd chuck 'em into the stove and be done with 'em !" "Hi, Sary Ann, dat's no good!" exclaimed Dan, whose tongue was unloosed by the remarks of his kitchen familiar; "Dat's no good at all. Hit's no sort of conjurin' to kill de connnon brood wen dey's growed up. But dar's a powerful difference wen it comes to the fust wasp ob de season. Hit's mighty good luck to kill dat un, I kin tell ye." " Well, then, feZ? us, won't you," responded Sarah, with some tartness ; "there hain't no wisdom sittin' ther a-rollin uv your head an' turnin' up yovu* eye-balls." "Sary Ann," answered Dan, "dar's folkses wat has waspish tempers and a hornet's stinger fer a tongue — but dat's needer hyur nor dar. Wat I saze is dat hit's good luck to kill de fust wasp ob de season, kaze it foretells freedom from all enemies fer dat year, shore. Dat's all !" NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. 441 Sarah was not disposed to yield the point, especially as she was smarting under Dan's keen thrust. "Pshaw!" she exclaimed, "'You culled pussons allez build your idees like a hornet does it's nest, upside down. Wat /'i-c heern tell is that the very sight in the house uv the fust wasp uv the season, let alone killin' uv it, is sure to bring bad hick. It'.s a sign uv an onpleasant 'quaintance, and ther's no good luck in that, I^m sure !" The cook rattled her knitting needles vigorously, and shot a triumphant glance at her venerable an- tagonist. But Dan was not to be suppressed thus. Picvolving on his cricket, he turned full toward the kitchen door, and assuming a demure expression and subdued tone, replied : '' Now den, Sary Ann, I 'low yo's right dis time. I gibs up de pint. I done remember, jes now, dat one tickler yaar I was so onlucky as to see de fust wasp ob de season ; dar was two ob dem in fac'. An' dat was de berry yaar I fust hab de honor to make ?/o' 'quen- tance, Sary Ann ! Ya-as, I guess yo's right dis time," He resumed his position on the cricket with a solemnity that was not disturbed by the general mer- riment of our party. The Mistress, however, was plainly not amused. Her face was flushed and drawn into lines of disapprobation, as she turned upon me a glance of remonstrance. Indeed, it was only in the face of many protests that I had been able to carry my purpose to keep the room on Conversation Nights a 28 443 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. " Liberty Hall," wherein all should be held equal and encouraged to the utmost freedom. "With most of our domestic circle there had been no embarrassment, but Dan and Sarah had such an irrepressible tendency to carry their kitchen spanning into the conversations that the good housewife was often shocked. " It will quite overturn my domestic discipline," she affirmed; "and destroy all dignity in our relations with the household helpers. It is preposterous to allow Sarah and Dan such liberties !" However, this course seemed to me the only one to evoke the peculiar notions that I wished to reach, and which come only with perfect freedom. So the Mistress yielded with what gi-ace she could, although her pa- tience was sometimes sorely tried, as on this occasion. Perhaps, I may here say that the good wife's predic- tions were not fulfilled, for the spirit of our Liberty Hall evening never seemed to invade the ordinary ser- vices of the house and farm. But this may suffice for apology. " We have not quite finished the natural history of the hornet," I resumed. " Almost as soon as the first cells are formed in the early spring, the building of the nest-covering is commenced. At first it has the appearance of a miniature umbrella, but as the cell- work grows it is expanded and drawn downward until it quite encloses the combs. The larva?, of course, from the reversed positions of the cells, live head downward, and this posture they are said to retain by means of a gummy secretion at first, and afterward by the swollen NATURE'S FIRST PAPER 3IAKERS 44;3 front of the body which tills the open part of the cell. At all events, the httle heads are conveniently placed for the nursing workers, who move over the surface of the comb pressing into open baljy mouths the nourish- ing ' pap ' which has been prepared for them by the very primitive mode of chewing." "Does thee know what sort of food this hornet pap is composed of?" asked Aunt Hannah. "It is probably the juices of insects for the most part. The proper food of hornets, wasps and other Vespidaj is somewhat in doubt. In spring and early summer they feed on the sweets of flowers, but later in the season develop a taste for fruit, and attack strawberries, plums, grapes, pears — even entering houses to help themselves to dishes on the table. But they are caruiverous in their appetite also ; they Avill eat raw meat, as you may see by visiting our village butcher shops. They are iusectiverous, too, and carry war into the insect world, their weapon not being their sting as with their relations the Mud-daubers and Digger Wasps, but their formidable jaws. They fall upon flies and butterflies, bite oft^ their wings, feet and head and devour the trunk. They even destroy honey-bees, assailing them on their return from the fields laden with pollen. They throw themselves upon their victims, tear the alxlomen from the thorax and and suck its contents. I have known persons who have tui-ned this insect-devouring propensity of hor- nets to good purpose by hanging one of their nests in a house much infested by the common house fly, from 444 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. which, I have been told, they soon make a thorough riddance of the annoying insects." This touclied upon Sarali's department, and slie ex- pressed lier interest by saying : " I kin vouch fer part of them facts, anyway. Tlie hornet's do lietch flies, I'll say that much for the pesky critters. I've often seen 'em pitch through the kitchen winders like mad, bounce upon the flies and clear away with them. But lawsamassy, ther haint no one goin' to get out a patent on that kind uv a fly trap ! Fer who'd want sech a reglar hostyle sallyport es that around, I'd like to know ? I reckon the remedy 'd be wuss 'n the cure." " I can't speak from observation," I responded, " but I have been told that the experiment brought no incon- venince ; that as long as the hornets were not meddled with, they molested no one. This much I can say, that in my numerous field excursions, I have never been meddled with by the stinging insects except when I gave them some provoking cause. However, I have no zeal to prove the usefulness of the hornet or press it into dut}^ as a servant of man. But Ave wander from the point which I started to explain concerning the food of wasps. It is an open question with entomolo- logists whether all the insect food thus captured is used for the nurture of the larvee, or whether it is partly appropriated to the creatures' own use. I do not ven- ture an opinion on the subject." " They do say," remarked Hugh, returning to the point of usefulness, " that the smoke of a burned hor- net's nest is useful. I've lieerd horsemen say that it 's fio. 140. — -ivasp's kest avitii tubular extrance. (one half natural size.) 445 446 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. good fer distemper, but I never tried it mj-self. Tlier's a sa}in' too, w'ich I larnt w'cn a boy tbat they 're weather-wise and kin foretell w'at kind of a winter we're goin' to hev. It runs this a-way : ' If hornets build low, Winter storms and snow ; When hornets' nests hanft- high, Winter mild and dry.' Howsomever, I reckon ther's not much in that fore- cast, kase the varmint seem to take it pretty much as it comes, some high, some low, in the same season. I don't count so much on them sort uv sayins as I used to ; though insecks is powerful wise critters in many things, I allow." "Are the hornets spoken of in Scripture (Josh.. 24, 12, Dcut. 7, 20) the same insects as ours ?" asked Aunt Hannah. " The Bible hornet is probably the common Euro- pean species, Vespa crdbro. It is quite like our own species in habits, but prefers to build in a hollow tree or similar site. It has been naturalized in America, and I have specimens of its combs from New Jerse}'. But our evening is quite worn away, and we must close this Conversation. Before we do so, however, I call your attention to this pretty nest, which somewhat re- sembles the hornet's. It is much smaller, being about the size and shape of a Bartlett pear. I found this spe- cimen in a low bush by the roadside just beyond our farmhouse. Its chief peculiarity is this tube about half an inch in diameter which forms the entrance or vesti- NATURE'S FIRST PAPER MAKERS. 447 bule to the nest interior. Tlie tube varies in length — I have seen one six inches long. I know nothing of the habits of the little architect, but greatly admire the skill with which it shapes its paper nurser}^ and domi- cile." (Fig. 140). Good-nights w^ere then said, and as our friend the Manuflicturer left he expressed a hearty satisfaction and pride in his mute felloAV-craftsmen of the insect world, and gave a warm invitation to visit his mill, and compare his methods of paper making with that of the wasps and hornets. The invitation, by the way, was accepted, and the wiiole party had the pleasure of making a tour of the factory under the personal conduct of the proprietor. The visit had an interest which was much keener and more intelligent because of our even- ing companionship with Nature's first paper makers. CHAPTER XXII. NEW TENANTS AND OLD FIIIENDS. As I close these reminiscences I find myself wonder- ing on what principle the subjects here presented have been selected ? Somewhat at haphazard, no doubt, I am sure, at least, that the Conversations which I have written out by no means embrace the most interesting material. But where all is so full of in- terest, who will criticise my choice or censure my omissions ? When I look over my notes I see among the themes which engaged us such as these: " Tlie Carpenter's Company " — relating to wood-working in- sects, as the Carpenter ants and bees ; " The Venerable Order of Undertakers," relating to the burrowing beetles and necrophagous insects ; " The Ancient Mariners," who gave us a pleasant evening with water insects; ''Living Lamps," such as the lightning-bug and glow-worm ; " Insect Pets and Domestic Herds;" "Kidnappers and Slaves," a story of the slave-mak- ing ants ; " Squatter Sovereignty," the mysterious history of insect parasitism; "The Tyrant of Two Elements," a history of dragon-flies; "The Summer Tourist's Pest," an account of the musquito and its allies ; "The Evolution of a Silk Gown," which can- vassed the life of the silk-worm. These are a few of 4*8 NEW TENANTS AND OLD FRIENDS. 449 our subjects ; I will enlarge the list no further lest some unpitying publisher should be enamored of it, and lure me to write another book ! The Conversa- tions were prolonged far into the summer, and had a new element of interest in the fact that we could follow our insect friends to the fields and ply our study of their curious habits there. At last the time came to close our pleasant con- ferences. The prescription of the medical man had this time, at least, wrought a cure. Rest, change of scene and habit, life in the pure country air, gave tone to shattered nerves, and brought once more the joy of health. Our year's lease of the Old Farm expired as the golden days of October fell upon the landscape. It was not Avithout pain that we bade adieu to our rural friends and returned to the city. Our hearts had sent out many strong rootlets around the Old Farm which we were loth to break. But we left new tenants in the dear old place, and that comforted us. Shall I tell who the tenants are ? Love, which breaks through iron bars, can prevail even over the stronger barriers of religious prejudice. It was long l)cfore Aunt Hannah gave way, but at last she bowed to the inevitable, and Penn Townes married Abby Bradford. It was agreed that Penn would not forsake the Meeting, even though he should be " turned out,'" and that was some mitigation of the good woman's trial. There was one condition which the Mistress and I had named that was at length conceded. The young people were married at the Old Farm just 450 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. before we ceased to be its Tenauts. Dr. Goodman oflficiated, aud a happier evening never brightened within the venerable walls than that which saw the consummation of so fitting a union. A voice at my side has just said : " Tell them some- thing about all the rest, dear. People do love to hear what becomes of the folks in whom they are in- terested ?" It is the Mistress who speaks, older in years, indeed, but young as ever — younger than ever in the vigor and charm of that love whose devotion is the sweetest re- membrance of those invalid days at Highwood. Well, then, for the Mistress' sake, if not for the reader's, I will Avrite the chronicle, which is neither long nor eventful. The last time that I visited the Old Farm was to attend a "house-warming," given on the occasion of Penn Townes entering into possession of the place, which he had bought. Thus, after years of alienation, it had come back to the family who reclaimed it first to civilization. The event was an auspicious one, and well deserved celebration. What a royal time we had with kindred and neighbors, old and young ! Abby, grown quite matronly, presided with that characteristic animation which marked her earlier years. Pier fine brood of younglings thrive in the country air. The oldest bears the name of Hannah, a peace offering, or, perhaps, I should say a thank- offering to good Mother Townes. The second, a sturdy lad, is proud to be called Fielding Maylicld Townes ; NEW TENANTS AND OLD FRTENDS. 4rA and somewhere in the series there is a httle blue-ej'Ctl Kate, a namesake of the Mistress. " AVas Penn eut oil" from membership for marrying out of Meeting ?" No; he is still "in good standing,'" at least in so far that he has not been formally "turned out." But if you ask me why, I can give you no light beyond the facts ; perhaps the subject is still under consideration by the Society. Be that as it may, there are few more regular worshipers at the Springfield Meeting House than Penn Townes, and when fomily duties will allow, Abby finds great pleasure in accompanying her hus- band, especially as the traditional " scuttle " bonnets have long since been eschewed by the 3-ounger women Friends. The elder children also are sometimes taken ; but such fidgeting as attacks the dear bairns during the solemn quietude that often pervades the Meeting is pitiful to see. To the mind of some of the stricter Friends, it seems something very like a temptation of the Adversar3^ But the major part, perhaps correctly, attribute it wholly to Friend Abby's stirring Yankee blood. Hugh has left the tenant house and occupies a fxrm of his own. Jenn}- lives at home, a soldier's widow. Joe marched oflf Southward in the rebellion days Avith a "Springfield rifle " on his shoulder — that weapon, by the way, was not named after our old Quaker IMceting- house — and returned with a major's golden leaf upon his shoulder-straps. And well he deserved the honor, his comrades all declare. Ilarrv wont into mv count- 453 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. ing-house, and some day soon will be the head of the firm. He developed a strong taste for entomology, is an active member of the Academy of Natural Sciences, and a good authority in the American Hymenoptra. "Tell them what became of Sarah," the Mistress said, prompting me as I paused in my narrative. " In spite of her superstition and sharp tongue, I am sure she has some friends among your readers." Oh, to be sure. There is a spice of romance in lier story, too. Sarah's ' matrimonial wentur,' as she was wont to call him, turned up at last, and despite his long desertion, was welcomed and received by the faith- ful cook. Tom had been a member of a Colorado bat- tery during the war, had saved most of his wages, gathered no end of good sense by his experience, and being thoroughly homesick, came back East. He found Sarah still officiating in the Old Farm kitchen under the new regime and the two ' tuk up agin',' to use the quaint phrasing of the countr3^-side. When Hugh vacated the tenant-house, the re-mated pair moved in, and there they dwell. Sarah has learned something as well as Tom, and carries a less waspish tongue than in earlier days. However, she has never given up her fancy for the conch-shell, and winds its rude notes at noon and evening with a never-failing gusto. "Old Dan now," said the Mistress. "You musn't forget him." Forget old Dan ? Xo ! I have received too much genuine comfort from that odd patriarch to omit him NEW TENANTS AND OLD FRIENDS. 453 from this chronicle. I last saw him on the occasion of the liouse-warmini^ to which I have alluded. lie spends his summers at the Farm, as a sort of family pensiont'r, and busies himself with such light chores as he takes a fancy to. lie was engaged that day in a large potato tield just across the lane in the congenial Mork of killing potato beetles. The story of that ser- vice is worth telling. "Mars Penn," said Dan, '' w'y doau yo do suthin' 'nother to kill dem tater bugs ? Dat patch '11 be clar cleaned out less yo do. Hit's done ruined now, nigh- amost." "There's no use trying any more, Dan," was the answer. " I've spent already more time and money than the whole field 'II bring. 1 shan't try any more. The bugs are too much for us. Let the plaguey things have the jiotatoes ; they 're bound to, anyhow." "Now den, Mars Penn, dat's jess too bad," re- sponded the negro. "Jess yo' lem'me try em onct. Gimme some Paris-green, and we'll see w'at ole Dan'll do vrid dem pesky critters. We'll fix em yit ! Ho, ho ! nebbcH- seed de bug dat got ahead ob old Dan ! Hi, yi !" The Paris-green was provided, and Dan was set to work, more to satisfy him than from any hope that he would be of x-eal service. Prom that time on he gave his undivided attention to the " tater patch." Early in the morning when the dew was on the field, he was seen powdering the leaves of the infested tubers with the poison. During the day he continued the assault 454 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM wilh his tin pan, knocking the larvte therein and bear- ing away quantities to tlie kitclien door to become the victims of boiling water, furnished b}- Sarah. By-tlie-way, the two old antagonists still continue their intellectual sparring and chaffing, but withal are very good friends. Many a tit-bit the cook saves for the old man, and the warmest nook by the kitchen stove is his. As Dan went about his daily work of slaughtering Colorado beetles, he kept up a running series of ejacu- lations, mingled vauntings, and mild imprecations. Often he laughed softly as he slowly moved along crooning and talking to himself. The warfare Avith the bugs had raised his spirits, evoking the element of combativeness, and inspiring him with new vigor. ]Jut age is telling sorely on him, and rheumatism has added to the Aveight of years to bow his back very much. I leaned upon the fence and watched and listened to him as he approached the end of a row of plants. "Hi, den! Yo' jess go inter dat pan!" knocking off a score of insects, in various stages of development. " Plenty of company dar, now, but not much to eat, hey ? Well, I'll git you sumpin to drink, bymeby ! Ho, ho, ho ! Tea ? — no ! Tater soup ? — not much ! Yo' got too much ob dat aready. Hot water, sah ! Bilin' ! — ho, ho ! So yo' thot Dan couldn't circumwent tater bugs ? We'll see boout dat ! Bugs ? — hi ! I knows a heap more'n yo' tink boout dem, I kin tell yo'. I done gradewated long go. Reglar colledge larnt — ho. jVEW tenants and old friends. 455 ho, ho ! Now, den, dat row's done, and de pan's boout full. Take 'em off to Sary Ann. Mebbe she want's 'em for bug soup ! Hi ! House warmin' ? Yes, sah ! I reckon ole Dan'U give dese yur gemmin a reglar old-fashioned one ; no mistake boout dat !" As he shuffled along, he gazed into the pan with a radiant look, and skimmed the edges with his gray, knt)l)by baud to push back the cniAvliug insects. Thus busied he was passing me quite unnoticed, "Hello, there!" I called. Dan looked up suddenly, then hobbled up to the fence, laid down the pan, and reaching out both hands gave me a hearty greeting. But the reader will not be concerned with our talk, and I shall only state the issue of the conflict with the beetles before bidding Dan good-by. "I sold a thousand bushels of potatoes off that field," said Penn Townes, whom I met in the city one day the next winter. " If it hadn't been for old Dan's deter- mined figbt, I Avouldn't have got as many as I planted." The old man is living yet, and, for aught I know, is fighting potato beetfes on the Old Farm even while I write these lines. There is one more friend whose memory craves a passing Avord. I drove one Sabbath day this summer to the Marple Church. The birds were warbling in the trees that skirt the churchyard ; the grasshoppers were shrilling from the waving verdure that grows rank among the graves ; little children were wauderino' 456 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. among the tombs in their bright Suuda}^ dresses ; and in one corner, close by the road, a rustic couple were standing by two marble stones, spelling out slowly the inscriptions thereon. I drove my horse close to the fence, and uncovering my head, joined the countryman and his wife in their homage at the grave of Dr. Good- man and his wife. Twin headstones, precisely alike in form and finish, mark the respective places of rest. At the top of the stone which marks the wife's grave are the words : "The Morning Cometh." In like position at the top of the Doctor's monument is the inscription : "A Morning Without Clouds." The eye glances from one to the other, and the separate mottoes read as one sweet, suggestive sentence, "The morning cometh " — "A morning without clouds." Even so, dear friends, even so be it for us all ! Beneath the beloved name of pastor, husband, father, friend, is carved a text of Holy Scripture, never more fitly used in the elegiac inscriptions of churchyard ,- aisle and vault : "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteous- ness as the stars for ever and ever." [the end.] INDEX. Aeronautic flight of spiders, 140. Aiiisopteryx pometaria, 11:2; A. vernata, 112. Ants, cutting, 230 sq.; agricultural, 24G; superstitions about, 247; agricultural, 331; stinging, 335; undergrade road of Formica Integra in Fairmouut Park, 337; Solomon and ant; 340, 349; har- vesting ants, 341 1 Occident ant, 344, 340; Pennsylvania harvester, 348; carpenter, 426; fuscous and slave-making, 427. — Agricultural ants, cutting grass, 331 ; cleared disks or pavements, 334; stinging ants, 335; ant clearing among weeds, 336; road- making, 337; gathering seed, 342; granaries, 343; mode of eat- ing, 345. — Cutting ants, 230; males, females, and workers, 237; queen strip.s off wings, 238; nests, 239; leaf -carrying, 243; mode of cutting, 244; head of, 245; opening formicary, 253; caves of, 255; leaf- paper combs, 257; use of combs, 259; jaws or mandibles, 259; trees attacked, 260; engineering skill, 2C3; underground routes, 264; closing gates, 266; opening gates, 267; gate engineering, 268; digging and dumping, 271; modes of destroying, 274. ^ Occident ants (Pogonomyrmex occidentalis), mound of, 344; gran aries and storerooms, 346; gathering seeds, 347. Argiope fasciata's cocoon, 35; snare, 37; decorations of web, 38. Argiope riparia, 14; description and distribution, 17; figure of snare and spider, 16; figure of cocoon, 21; cocoon, 30; name deriva- tion, 60. Argyroneta aquatica, 207. Apple-worm, 91, 94. Atta ferveus, 246. Bag-worms, see Basket-worms. Ballooning spiders, 198. Basket-worms, superstitions about, 381; food plants, 384; specific name, 384; figures of baskets, 385 sq. ; seeking food, 387; mode of attaching scraps, 388; manner of eating, 389; walking, 394; pro- tective habit, 397; wingless female, 398; mating, 399. Beads, viscid, of spiders, 217. Bee, humble, nest of, 145; history of, 145-184; see Humble-bee. Bee, leaf-cutting, description, 406; species of, 406; nest-making habits, 407; figures of nest, 409; furnishing the cells, 411. 2!> 458 IjSDEX. Bridges, spiders', 192, 202; baby-builders, 204. Butterfly, pupa, 50. Camponotus penxstlvaxicus, 426. Canker-worm, 112, 114. Carpenter ant, 426. Caterpillars, tent-malcing', 421. Cave men, 123. Cave spiders, 131. China-tree defoliated by auts, 2-14, 201. Cicada, figures of, 311; difference between, and true locusts, 312; species, 313; musical organs, 314. Cicada, life after transformation, 352; do. as larvae, 351; ovoposi- tors, 355; eggs, 355, 361; egg nests, 357; injury done by, 360, 304; not locusts, 361 ; young burrowing, 362; special instinct in descent of, 304; living on roots, 365; life under ground, 366; advent, 367; turrets, 368; enemies, 369; egress, 370; shells of, 371; literary allusions, 372 sq. Clisiocampa (genus), 413. Clothes' moth, 85. Cocoons, use of, 66. Codling moth, 92. Crickets, noisy shrilling, 279; superstitions about, 282, 289; white cricket, 285; species of, 286; egg-laying, 286; transformation, 287; house crickets, 289; habits, 290; black cricket, 291; music, 292, 299; injurious, 303; derivation of name, 303; combative, 304; literary allusions, 305; cricket on the hearth, 306. Cricket, mole, 149. Cutting ant, 336 sq. Cynthia moth, 53; cocoon, 63, 67. Death's-head moth, 77, 82. Engineering, insect, 185; of spiders, 192; cutting auts, 86a. Epeira caudata, snare, 32; cocoon, 33. Epeira insularis, sewed nest of, 403. Epeira strix, 228. Ephemera, 353. Evolution, 150. Flying spiders, 192, 198. Formica fusca, 427, Formica Integra, 337. Garden spider, 200, 210. Geometric spider, 210; how snare is made, 21i. Geometrid moths, 104, 108. Grasshopper, 284, 294, 326. INDEX. 459 Gryllus domestieus, 386; G. abreviatus, etc., 290; G. pennsylvanicus, 20O; G. neglectus, 291; G. niger, 291. Haiivest FLY, 312. Honey-bee, wax-workers, 175. Hornet, mode of building nest, 430; exterior of nest, 435; nest in- terior, 4.37; larvae, 442; prey of, 443; superstitions about, 445. House-builder moth, see Basket-worm. Humble-bee, entrance to nest, 145; queen and workers, 153; nest and cells, 159; mode of upliolstering nest, 163-166; raising the young, 168; enemies, 170; wax-workers, 176; mouth organs, 177; regurgitating honey, 178; bee-basket, 180; leg of bee, 181. Katy-did, 284, 294; musical organs, 299; figure of, 301; nocturnal insects, 302; development, 302; scientific name, 302; supersti tions about, 309. " Loccst" (so-called), see Cicada. Locust, figures of, 311. Looping oatei-pillars, 104. May-flies, 353. Megachile oentuncularis, 406. Measuring-worms, 109. Mole-cricket, 147. Mole, 149. Moths, polyphemus, 40 sq. ; cecropia, 48; spinning organs, 49; cynthia, 53; silk, name of, 61; superstitions concerning, 77 sq.\ death's- head moth, 77, 82; clothes moth, 85; apple- worm moth, 92; geometrids, 104; Tussock, 105; auisopteryx, 112; canker-worm, 112; orchard moth, 113: leaf-rolling, 413; eggs, 415; mode of rolling leaves, 416; tent-making, 421. Music, insect, 277, 294, 299. NeMOBIUS VITT.iTUS, 291. Nodfeur, 117. Nomenclature, scientific, 58. CEcANTHUS NiVEUS, 286, 293. Orb-weaving spiders, 200. Orgyia leucostigma, 105. Orthoptera, characteristics, 284, 286. Parasol-ant, 243, 336. Pheidole pennsylvanicus, 3. Platyphillum concavum, 302. Pogonomyrmex barbatus, 240, 333; P. occidentalis, 346. Polistes annulatus, 430. Pollen, bees gather, 181. 460 INDEX. Polj-phemus moth, 40; larva, 41; cocoon, 43; pupa, 46; name, 61. Potato-worm, 69; pupa, 70. Propolis, 181. Seventeen-year locust, see Cicada. Sewing insects, 404; see Tailoring. Sliimk, raids bees' nests, I'O. Snares, orb-weaving spiders', 312. Sphinx quinque-maculata, 69, 72. Spiders, argiope riparia, 14-30; webs spun over water, 25; collecting specimens of, 27; baby spiders, 31, 1.30; snare of ep. caudata, Si; cocoons, ditto, 33; cocoon of argiope fasciata, 3o sq.; spin- ning organs, 49; tarentula arenicola, 129; turret spider, 131-141; aeronautic, 140; suspension bridges, 192, 202; flying, 192; mount- ing into air, 196; ballooning, 199, 228; orb-weaver"s snare, 200, 211-214; bridge lines, 202; baby bridge-builders, 204; water- spider's nest, 208; putting in radii and spirals, 214; spiral foun- dations, 215; viscid beads, 216; Bruce and the spider, 218; super- stitions about, 214; sewed nest of insular spider, 404; nest of shamrock spider, 405; webs, 427. Spinning organs of spiders and moths, 48. Tailoring insects, 402; insect sewing, 403; leaf -cutter bee, 406; leaf- rolling moth, 413. Tarentula arenicola, 129. Tent-making caterpillars, figures of moths, 421; ovipositing, 422; tent-spinning, 423; processions, 424. Theridopterix ephemereeformis, 384. Tinea pellionella, 86 ; T. pomonella, 93. Tobacco-worm, 69. Tomato-worm, 69. Troglodytes, 123. Tui-retspider, 130; nest and tower, 131; cotton-lined nest, 134; seek- ing prey, 135; mother and cocoon, 137; baby spiders, 139; tower with stone foundation, 141. Tussock moth, 105. Vanessa, pupa of, 50, Vespa maculata, see Hornet. Wasps, nest of ringed wasp, 430; nest site, 431; gathering wood, 433, larvae, 433; cells, 434. Wax, bee's, 175. Web, spider, how made, 213, 233. Yellow jackets, 170. 2^, Paternoster Row, London. HODDER & STOUGHTON'S LIST OF ILLUSTRATED AND OTHER GIFT BOOKS. Cfte %ix %Wm ^eriC0 of (^ift 1l5ook0. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt, gilt edges, demy 8vo, price 6s. each. With niustrations. HARRY MILVAINE ; or, the Wanderings of a Wayward Boy. By Dr. Gordon Stables, R.N., Author of "The Cruise of the Snow- bird," "Pole to Pole," etc. With Full-page Illustrations. 6s. WONDERFUL STORIES OF DARING, PERIL, AND Adventure. By Dr. James Macaulay. 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Barnard, Townley Green, W. Small, and others. Handsomely bound in cloth, 5s. Contents : — Bread cast on the Waters — A Missionary in the East — The Cottage by the Pool — No Friends — Dr. Ellerton — How Tom Dyer came to a Knowledge of Himself — There was Joy in Heaven — Only a Little Child — A Lady Indeed— " What does it Matter?"— The Harvest Bride— The Lambeth Pedlar — Little Bertha's Monument — The Rabbi — An Eastern Stoiy , — The Samphire Gatherer — My Bullfinch — An Incident of Summer Travel in Germany — The " Mission" in the Village— Mrs. Wray's Temper — A Life Worth Knowing About — Peggy's Baby — At the Praying Rock — Evensong — A Visit to Marie, a French Heroine — The Lost Child — A Red-Cross Heroine ■ — Nina^God's Field — "The Sabbath -Breaking Mill" — The Fountain of Recovery — The Hospital Flowers — The Good Servant. "They are brief, bright, and illustrated with excellent woodcuts. 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It is well done, and is excellently illustrated." — Scotsman. "A good book for Sunday reading for little ones." — Standard. SEPPEL; or, The Burning of the Synagogue at Munich. By GusTAV NiERiTZ. With Frontispiece, is. 6d. "The narrative is of thrilling interest." — Edinburgh Daily Reninv. BUSY HANDS AND PATIENT HEARTS; or, The Blind Boy of Dresden and his Friends. By the same Author. Eighth Edition. Crown 8vo, illustrated, is. 6d. " One of the most beautiful stories ever written for children," — Nonconformist, " A real and genuine Chj-istmas story." — Times, A ROUND OF SUNDAY STORIES. Specimen of the Illustrations. "An Unusually Formal Interview with Mrs. Ellis." ^• 9 WORKS BY W. M. THAYER. FROM THE TANYARD TO WHITE HOUSE, THE STORY OF PRESIDENT GRANT'S LIFE. With Poi'trait and lllustralions. Crown 8vo, cloth, ^s. 6d. and 2s. 6d. May also be had handsomely bound in half calf, 6s. net. " General Grant's romantic and noble story is here popularly told with great effectiveness. Mr. Thayer seems destined to be the popular historian of American presidents — Washington, Lincoln, and Garfield have already been portrayed by his pen ; and now in General Grant he has found a hero second to none of them. He has many high qualifications for his task. The book is one of romantic and enthralling interest." — British Quarterly Revie^v. "The life is written in a style that should suit all boys thoroughly; there is incident enough in all conscience, and from the birth to the death of the great general there is a running fire of lively and humorous anecdote." — Times. THE TRUE WOMAN. ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER DRAWN FROM THE LIFE OF MARY LYON AND OTHERS. By the same Author. Crown Svo, cloth, ^s. "One of the best books for young women that has lately been issued. Every phase of character and of life seems to be dealt with and handled well. The thought- ful young cannot read the book without being prompted to pursue the noblest and worthiest aims in life." — Christian. The following zvorks may be had handsomely bound i7i Gustav half calf, price six shillings each : — BY THE REl. H. C. ADAMS, M.A. FOR JAMES OR GEORGE. A Schoolboy's Tale of 1745. BY DR. MAC AULA Y. ALL TRUE. BY DR. MACAULAY. TRUE TALES OF TRAVEL AND ADVEN- TURE, VALOUR AND VIRTUE. BYW. M. THAYER. FROM THE TANYARD TO WHITE HOUSE. The Story of President Grant's Life. BY W. M. THAYER. FROM LOG CABIN TO WHITE HOUSE. The Story of President Garfield's Life. BY IV. M. THAYER. GEORGE WASHINGTON. His Boyhood and Manhood. BY IV. A/. THAYER. THE PIONEER BOY, AND HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT. The Story of President Lincoln's Life. WORKS BY W. M. THAYER. CHEAP EDITION. Tenth Thousand, handsomely bound, y. 6d. JFith Stetl Portrait. May also be had in Gustav half calf, ds. GEORGE WASHINGTON: HIS BOYHOOD AND MANHOOD. " The character of Washington was a very noble one, and his life may well be taken as an example by boys. The biography is written in a lively and pleasant tone, and withont any of the dryness which is too often the accompaniment of this form of literature. While the details are all strictly historical, the characters are made to live and breathe." — Standard. " Mr. Thayer has before this displayed e.xceptional skill as a biographer, and he repeats his success with the present volume. The story of Washington's life is told rather by means of a series of anecdotes and incidents than in the formal way generally adopted, and a verj' graphic and entertaining narrative is thus presented." — Rock. CHEAP EDITION, Sixteenth Thousand, handsomely bound, ^s. 6d., with Portrait, May also be hail in Gustav half calf, 6s. THE PIONEER BOY, and HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT; THE STORY OF THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Many of the details of this work were furnished by President Lincoln himself, and by his early associates and friends. " Mr. Thayer is not merely a biographer, a compiler of dry details, but he invests his subject with a halo of delightful romance, and the result is as pleasing as the most imaginative book of fiction. So cleverly has the author done his work, that the result is a combination of pictures from the life of this great man, with humorous anecdote and stirring narrative." — Society. " The author has done his work thoroughly well, and the result is a book of e.xciting narrative, of humorous anecdote, and of lifelike portraiture." — Daily Telegraph. Now Ready. 2^ih Edition, completing lyist Tliousand. FROM LOG CABIN TO WHITE HOUSE; THE STORY OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD'S LIFE. In Paper Boards, Illustrated Cover, with Fine Steel Portrait. Paper, is. ; Cloth Edition, is. 6d. ; Cloth Gilt, 2s. 6d. and 3s. 6d. ; Illustrated Edition, Gilt Edges, 5s. Suitable for Presents, Prizes, and School Libraries. May also be had in Gustav hcdfcalf, 6s. " One of the most romantic stories of our time." — British Quarterly Review. Eourteenth Thousand. Crown %vo, cloth, handsomely bound, 3J. 6d, TACT, PUSH, AND PRINCIPLE: A BOOK FOR THOSE WHO WISH TO SUCCEED IN LIFE. " A very interesting book, which may stimulate many a young nature of the ardently practical kind to steady and determined e.xertion." — Daily Telegraph. " Few better books could be imagined for presenting to a youth on his entrance upon the duties of active life. We pity the young man who could read these pages without being wonderfully helped." — Christian. II B V BR. MA CA ULA V, Editor of " The Leisure Hour." I. ALL TRUE. Records of Peril and Adventure by Sea and Land — Remarkable Escapes and Deliverances — Wonders of Nature and Providence, etc. With Twelve Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 5s. " 'All True' contains records of adventures by sea and land, remarkable escapes and deliverances, missionary enterprises, etc.; is as entertaining as the majority of such books are depressing, and may be welcomed as a welcome present for children. The illustrations are above the average of those vouchsafed to us in children's books." — Spectator. II. TRUE TALES OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE, VALOUR AND VIRTUE. Crotvn ?>vo, cloth, $s. With Thirteen Illustrations. " Dr. Macaulay's name is a voucher for spirited work, and ' True Tales, are instructive as well as interesting." — Times. " Full of stirring incident." — Daily Nezvs. " With no little vigour and power of condensation he tells of such achieve- ments, and such perils and suffering as fell to the lot of the early Australian explorers, of the Garibaldians, and of the Arctic navigators ; relieved by tales of such victories as those of Trafalgar and the Nile. Suitable bio- graphies are skilfully introduced." — British Quarterly Revinv. III. GREY HAWK : Life and Adventures among the Red Indians, An Old Story Retold. Eleven Illustrations. Handsomely bound, gilt edges, 3s. 6d. "The story itself is told with the simplicity of 'Robinson Crusoe,' and brings the details of savage life among savage people before the reader's eyes with the same vivid reality." — Guardian. ' ' The story is graphically told, and will be sure to become a favourite with boys." — Gloi>e. " These adventures are spirit-stirnng as the wildest romance ; and Cooper might have borrowed his heroes from the ' oner true tale ' without scruples. Not only is the story of ' Grey Hawk ' an amusing and instructive book for boys, but it is likewise a most valuable book of reference as to the condition of the Indian race at the period of the tale, compared with what is now beheld at the present day." — Cot{rt Journal. IV. ACROSS THE FERRY: First Impressions of America and its People. With Nine Illustrations. Price 5s. * ' Dr. Macaulay not only records his own impressions, but he incorporates with them much of the useful and interesting information which an intelli- gent traveller not only picks up, but takes special pains to furnish himself with. The volume is a series of photographs of America as it was in 1870, and is full, therefore, of practical interest." — British Quarterly Review. ST/RRING STORIES OF PEACE AND JVAR. Specimen of the 'Illustrations. " The First Shot Fired against thb Spanish Armad.i 13 £y DR. GORDON STABLES, R.N. I. ON SPECIAL SERVICE: A Tale of Life at Sea. With Eight Full-page Illustrations by J. Finnemore. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt edges, 5s. II. STANLEY GRAHAME. A Tale of the Dark Continent. With Eighteen Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, 5s. " The story never flags from beginning to end, and there can be no shadow of doubt that it will be received with delight by every healthy-minded lad. The illustrations are very good." — Scotsman. "A fine book for boys, full of admirably vigorous and picturesque writing, and of wholesome manly form." — Society. III. ADVENTURES ROUND THE POLE; or, The Cruise of the " Snowbird" Crew in the •' Arrandoon." Eight Illustrations. Handsomely bound, gilt edges, 3s. 6d. "It is a story of thrilling interest, the essence of a dozen Arctic voyages, lighted up by a good deal of fun and frolic, and chastened by manly religious feeling. It has excited us as we have read." — British Quarterly Review, IV. THE CRUISE OF THE "SNOWBIRD." A Story of Arctic Adventure. With Nine Full-page Illustrations. Handsomely bound, gilt edges, 5 s. " This is a capital story of adventure of the sort that all true boys delight in." — Acadefny. V. FROM POLE TO POLE. A Tale of the Sea. With Twelve Full-page Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt edges, " Boys who like excitement and adventure will find plenty of both in this spirited story of a yachting voyage from the Arctic to the Antarctic regions. The author's wonderful store of anecdote seems to be quite inexhaustible. There is abundance of incident, and adventures of the most thrilling and varied description in almost every page. The author has, as usual, worked up the essence of a dozen narratives of travel and adventure into a single tale of absorbing interest, while it is hardly necessary to say that the tone is in every way admirable." — Academy. VI. THE CRUISE OFTHE LAND YACHT "WANDERER"; or, Thirteen Hundred Miles in my Caravan. By Gordon Stables, M.D., R.N. With Photograph and Illustra- tions. Handsomely bound, 8vo, 9s. 14 ON SPECIAL SERVICE. Spccintm of the Illustrations. ",We Cheered as we Clambered on Board." IS WORJ^S BY MRS. G. S. RE ANEW I. JUST IN TIME ; or, Howard Clarion's Rescue. Hand- somely bound, crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. II. Nrd) and Cheaper Edition, DAISY SNOWFLAKE'S SECRET. A Story of English Home Life. Elegantly bound, 3s. 6d. " Winning in style, pure and earnest in tone, and of commanding interest." Daily Review. III. OUR DAUGHTERS: Their Lives Here and Hereafter. Cheap Edition, nicely bound in cloth, is. 6d. "A thoroughly wise and helpful book." — Christian. IV. MORNING THOUGHTS FOR OUR DAUGHTERS. Sixth Thousand. Handsomely bound, is. 6d. V. OUR BROTHERS AND SONS. Fourth Thousand. Elegantly bound, 3s. 6d. " One of her best books, written in excellent English, and with a racy, earnest pen." — Evangelical Magazine. MRS. REANEY'S SHILLING SERIES. Tastefully bound in cloth, is. each. Found at Last. Little Glory's Mission. Unspoken Addresses. Number Four, and other Chippings. [Stories. Not Alone in the World. " Written with all the author's well-known sweetness and persuasiveness of style."' — The Outlook. " Good little books in Mrs. Reaney's very best style. We hope they will sell by hundreds of thousands." — Sword and Trozvel. BY ISAAC PLEYDELL. IN A CORNER OF THE VINEYARD. A Village Story. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, 53. " The hard, rough life of the men is vigorously drawn." — Athenceum. " The characters are drawn with graphic skill, and the story is one of absorbing interest." — Derby Mercury, " A touching and stimulating story." — Christian World. 16 a Bt\x} OBigbteenpennp ^ene0. KITTY DEANE OF REED FARM. By Mrs. O'Reilly, Author of " The Red House," etc. With Thirteen Illustrations by TowNLEY Green. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. EVA GRANT'S ESCAPE. By Mrs. H. B. Paull. With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. EYES TO THE BLIND. By C. Birley, Author of " Undine : a Romance of Modern Days," etc. With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. THE POSTMAN'S BAG. By John de Liefde. With Illus- trations. Crown 8vo, is. 6d. GLENCOE PARSONAGE. By Mrs. A. E. Porter. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, is. 6d. THE NEAR AND THE HEAVENLY HORIZONS. By the Countess de Gasparin. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS. By Dr. Taylor. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. Handsotnely bound, ivith numerous Illustrations, 2s, 6d. SLYBOOTS, AND OTHER FARMYARD CHRONICLES. By BEATA FRANCIS, Author of "Fables and Fancies." "Delightfully simple and natural, and lighted up with gleams of fun and humour." Literary World. " There is a subtle moral in each of these chronicles, and the style is extremely humorous. A most enjoyable volume." — Derby Mercury, «7 CAPITAL FOR WORKING BOYS. Chapters on Character Building. By J. E. M'Conaughy. Crown 8vo, cloth; 3s. 66. THORNTON HALL ; or, Old Questions in Young Lives. By Phcebe J. McKeen. Crown 8vo, nicely bound, 3s. 6d. " An interesting and well- written story. The characters of the girls are well drawn, and the tone of the book excellent throughout." — Church Sunday School Magazine, THEODORA CAMERON. A Home Story. By the same Author. With Five full-page Illustrations. Seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. "A pretty story of the great civil war, which, though issued in a single volume, comprises not less matter than an ordinary novel, and introduces the reader to many varieties of character, and numerous stirring scenes in the home and on the battle-field." — Daily News. THE WINTHROP FAMILY. A Story of New England Life Fifty Years Ago. By the Author of " May Chester," etc. Crown Svo, cloth, 3s. 6d. •' A very dainty, winsome volume." — Freeman. " Primitive New England life, hospitality, and home-heartedness are finely wrought out in it. There is a quiet, easy grace, a pleasant sparkle, and a genial attractiveness in the style which exactly suits the life, manner, and personages of the narrative. A most admirable one for home interest and delight." — Golden Hours. YENSIE WALTON. An American Story. By J. R. Graham Clark. With Frontispiece. Crown Svo, cloth, 5s. " In tone and spirit, plan and execution, this is a superb story. Rich in delineation of character, and in descriptions of real experience. A more fascinating and inspiring picture of a schoolmistress, in one prolonged, prayerful, and sustained endeavour to lead an orphan pupil to Christ, was never drawn. " — General Baptist Magazine, YENSIE WALTON'S WOMANHOOD. By the same Author. With Three Illustrations. Crown Svo, cloth, 5s. The present volume introduces Yensie Walton in a new home, and under new conditions. She enters the family of a friend as an instructor of the younger members, and the narrative of her experiences will specially interest those who have to do with the moral and mental training of children. While there a call from Valley Farm reaches her. Ever prompt to do duty's bidding, Yensie quits this happy home for the sterner requirements of her uncle's family. It is then that the hitherto silenced wooer refuses to be longer quiet, and our heroine goes out from the old red farmhouse to her wedded home. 18 BY L. T. MEADE, Author of ' Scamp and I," etc., etc. I. THE ANGEL OF LOVE. A Companion Volume to "The Autocrat of the Nursery." With Forty Illustrations by T. Pym. Fcap. 4to, handsomely bound, 3s. 6d. II. THE AUTOCRAT OF THE NURSERY. With Forty Illustrations by T. Pym. Fcap. 4to, handsomely bound, 3s. 6d. " We have seldom seen a more spirited and delightful story for little children. " — Guardian. "A most charming children's story, exquisitely illustrated." — Truth. III. A LITTLE SILVER TRUMPET. With Twelve full-page Illustrations by T. Pym. Elegantly bound, crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. IV. HOW IT ALL CAME ROUND. With Six Illustrations. Handsomely bound, 5s. " A charming story. The characters are excellently drawn." — Standard. " The story is worthy of the highest praise. Altogether, this is one of the best stories of the season." — Pall Mall Gazette. V. ELLIE AND ESTHER; or, The Two Sisters. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, is. VI. SCARLET ANEMONES. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, IS. VII. HERMIE'S ROSEBUDS, and other Stories. With Illus- trations. Handsomely bound, 3s. 6d. BY MISS M. A. PAULL, Author of " Tim's Troubles,'' etc. I. FRIAR HILDEBRAND'S CROSS; or, The Monk of Tavystoke Abbaye. With Frontispiece. Crown Svo, cloth, 5s. II. THE FLOWER OF THE GRASSMARKET. With Five Illustrations. Cheap Edition. Crown Svo, cloth, 3s. 6d. 19 A FLOOD THAT LED ON TO FORTUNE. A Tale of Australian Life, By Old Boomerang. With Eight Full- page Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, 3s. 6d. IN THE DEPTHS OF THE SEA. By the same Author. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, gilt edges, 5s. LAUNCHING AWAY; or, Roger Larksway's Strange Mission. By the same Author. Second Edition. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, 3s. 6d. "An excellently written book of incident and adventure mainly in Australia. The author knows how to make such a book interesting, and he has in this one eminently succeeded." — Scotsman. THE PIONEER OF A FAMILY; or. Adventures of a Young Governess. By the same Author. Second Edition. With Frontispiece. Gilt edges, 5s. "Few stories have such an air of reality about them. Mr. Hawthorn has the faculty of drawing his characters in such graphic fashion, that we seem to have known them, and are forced to sympathise with their joys and sorrows." — Aberdeen Free Press. " Full of terse and powerful sketches of colonial life." — Freeman. OLIVER WYNDHAM. A Tale of the Great Plague. By the Author of " Naomi ; or, The Last Days of Jerusalem," etc. Fifteenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. "The chief merit of the book is the exquisite delicacy with which it illustrates Christian feeling and Christian principle in circumstances the most trying and varied." — Weekly Review. BELL'S LADIES' READER. A Class Book of Poetry for Schools and Families. With an Introduction on the Principles of Elocution. By D. C Bell, Joint Author of ** Bell's Standard Elocutionist." Crown Svo, cloth, 2s. 6d. BELL'S STANDARD ELOCUTIONIST. Principles and Exercises. Followed by a copious Selection of Extracts in Prose and Poetry, Classified and Adapted for Reading and Recitation. By D. C. and A. M. Bell. New and greatly Enlarged Edition. Containing over 500 of the choicest Extracts in the Enghsh Language, with the Principles of Elocution fully stated. Strongly half-bound in roan, 544 pages, 3s. 6d. " This is the best book of the kind." — Bookseller. 20 FOR JAMES OR GEORGE. A Schoolboy's Tale of 1745. By the Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A., Author of "School- boy Honour," " Tales of Charlton School," etc. With Twelve full-page Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, 5s. NIGEL LENNOX OF GLEN IRVINE. By L. N. Hyder. With Five full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. THE PENNANT FAMILY. The Story of the Earl of Craigavon. By Anne Beale, Author of " Squire Lisle's Request," "Gladys the Reaper," etc. With Eight full-page Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. DOT. The Story of a City Waif By Annie Lucas, Author of "Nobody's Darling," "The City and the Castle." With Twelve full-page Illustrations by T. Pym. Elegantly bound in cloth, crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. KATE'S MOTHER. By Ellen Hodgson. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. " A brightly told simple domestic story." — European Mail, "A homely tale, very charmingly told, of humble family life, with its trials, and sorrows, and loves ; its disappointments and compensations. It is a thoroughly natural story, and one that will help to elevate and purify the life of the household." — Christian. POOR BOYS WHO BECAME FAMOUS. By Sarah K. Bolton. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. Containing lives of Peabody, Bayard Taylor, Captain Eads, Watt, Sir Josiah Mason, Palissy, Thorwaldsen, Mozart, Johnson, Goldsmith, Faraday, Bessemer, vSir Titus Salt, Jacquard, Greeley, Garrison, Garibaldi, Richter, Gambetta, Farragut, Cornell, Lieut.-Gen. Sheridan, Cole, Ole Bull, Meis- sonier, Childs, D. L. Moody, Abraham Lincoln. EVA GRANT'S ESCAPE. By Mrs. H. B. Paull, Author of " Ethel Graham's Victory," " Englefield Grange," etc. With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. THE OWNERS OF BROADLANDS. By Mrs. H. B. Paull. With full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. "THERE'S A FRIEND FOR LITTLE CHILDREN." By Julia F. Armstrong. With Twelve Illustrations. Hand- somely bound, crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. 21 SUKIE'S BOY. By Sarah Tytler, Author of "The Huguenot Family," " Citoyenne JaqueHne," etc. IN THE FORT. By the same Author. With Frontispiece by J. Finnemore. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. COMRADES. A Story. By the same Author. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d., with Illustrations. " The story is graceful and bright, and has the exceptional merit of being a study by a woman of men who are true to life and creatures of flesh and blood. Enriched as it is with some pretty illustrations, the volume must take a high position among the novels of the day, because of the exceptional purity and delicacy of its style. " — Whitehall Revinv, BY MARIE HALL, nk SIBREE. I, NOBLE, BUT NOT THE NOBLEST. Crown 8vo, 3s.6d. "The picture is skilfully drawn, with tender touches and with artistic lights. We heartily commend it. To those who have read the author's pre- vious stories of ' The Dying Saviour and the Gipsy Girl,' ' Andrew Marvel,' etc., this is scarcely necessary." — British Quarterly Review. ' ' A more elegantly written, graceful, and powerful story the present season . has not yielded us." — Freeman. II. ANDREW MARVEL AND HIS FRIENDS: A Story of the Siege of Hull. Fourth Thousand. Crown Svo, cloth, 5s. III. THE DYING SAVIOUR AND THE GIPSY GIRL, and other Tales. Sixteenth Thousand. Crown Svo, cloth, 3s. 6d. " The stories are gracefully written : they are marked by good feeling and refined taste, and the moral conveyed by them is unexceptionable." — Spectator. IV. THE DYING SAVIOUR AND THE GIPSY GIRL, and THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. Two Stories. Eighteenth Thousand. Fcap. Svo, is. "A literary gem not less admirable for the beauty of its diction, and the artistic finish of its details, than for its lucid exhibition of the gospel. The ' Old, Old Story ' was seldom told in sweeter words." — S, S. World, IN THE FORT. CLUNY MACPHERSON. A TALE OF BROTHERLY LOVE. By Amelia E. Barr. With Six Illustrations. Crown 8vo, ^s. 6(1. " The story is of thrilling interest." — Literary World. " The book, which is splendidly got up, is throughout exceedingly readable." — Perth* shire Constitutional. " This singularly beautiful story." — Daily Rez'iew. BY ED WIN HODDER. I. TOSSED ON THE WAVES. A Story of Young Life. Fifteenth Thousand. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. "We cannot think that a boy could take up the book without' feeling its fascination, or without rising a better lad from its perusal. The scenes of life on the sea and in the colonies are peculiarly attractive." — British Quarterly Revieiv, IL THE JUNIOR CLERK. A Tale of City Life. Fourteenth Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d. STORIES BY MISS INGHAM. I. LAURA LIN WOOD; or, the Price of an Accomplishment. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. With Frontispiece. " This is a story with a moral, wi-itten with the authoress's usual earnest- ness of purpose, and in her usual sprightly style." — Methodist Recorder. " These sketches of Wesleyan society, classes, and class leaders, with which she evidently has a familiar acquaintance, are very readable." — Literary Churchfnan. ' ' The stoiy is cleverly written. " — Guardian. " The tale is very readable, skilfully imagined, and, we are afraid, of a needed purpose. " — Nonconformist. II. THE WHITE CROSS AND DOVE OF PEARLS. A Biography of Light and Shade. Sixth Thousand. Crown Svo, cloth, 5s. " 'The White Cross and Dove of Pearls' will not disappoint the expecta- tions of those who may already have formed justly high opinions of this strikingly original and sympathetic writer's ability to interest, to amuse, and to elevate her readers. It is a fiction without false sentiment, with- out unhealthy imagination, and without a single vulgar or frivolous idea." — Daily Telegraph. 24 SOME OF OUR FELLOE'S. Specimen of the Illustrations. CHEAP ILLUSTRATED EDITIONS OF J. B. DE LIEFDE'S STORIES. I. A BRAVE RESOLVE; or, the Siege of Stralsund. A Story of Heroism and Adventure. With Eight Full- page Illustrations, Crown 8vo, handsomely bound, 3s. 6d. ' ' Gives a capital picture of the Siege of Stralsund in the Thirty Years' War. It is an excellent historical novel." — The Guardian, " A highly interesting romance. The exciting events of the Thirty Years' War are depicted with much fidelity, and the love story lends an additional charm to a thoroughly readable book." — Court Journal. " It is admirably done — we have not read a better historical story for a long time." — British Quarterly Revie'v. II. THE BEGGARS 5 or, the Founders of the Dutch Republic. With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo, handsomely bound in cloth, 3s. 6d. " Mr. de Liefde's ' Beggars ' is a piece of genuine historical romance, full of incident, and not wanting in colour and lesson. The book is a good and lively one, and we cordially recommend it." — Argosy. " This is an interesting and animated =tory, the scene of which is laid in the Netherlands at a time with which Mr. Motley's works have made us familiar. The hero of Mr. de Liefde's tale engages in an attempt to rescue Count Egmont the night before his execution, and afterwards takes service in the fleet of Sea Beggars, which was so troublesome to Spain, and of such service to the young Dutch Republic. There is no lack of adventure in the book," — Athenoenm. III. THE POSTMAN'S BAG. By John de Liefde. With Illus- trations, Post 8vo, IS. 6d. " Commend us to Mr. de Liefde for a pleasant story, whether in the parlour or on the printed page. He is himself a story-book, full of infectious humour, racy anecdote, youthful freshness, and warm-hearted religion. In this pretty volume we do not get any of his more elaborate tales ; it is professedly a book 'for boys and girls,' and is made up of short stories and fables, the very things to win children's hearts." — The Patriot. THE SISTERS OF GLENCOE; or, Letitia's Choice. By Eva Wynne. Twentieth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. " Its life pictures are skilfully drawn, and the most wholesome lessons are enforced with fidelity and power." — Temperance Record. "An admirable story, illustrating in a most effective manner the mischief arising from the use of intoxicating liquors." — Rock, 26 A BRAVE RESOLVE. Specimen of the Ilhtstrations. "Captain Wvndham surprised by a visit from Helena.' 37 THE BOY IN THE BUSH. A Tale of Australian Life. By Richard Rowe. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. "Young lads will feel the narrative of the dash and courage of colonial boys of from ten to fourteen to be exhilarating reading." — School Board Chronicle. SHORE AND SEA: Stories of Great Vikings and Sea Captains. By W. H. Davenport Adams, Ten Illustrations. Handsomely bound, gilt edges, 3s. 6d. "A book which is as thrilling as any romance." — Scotsman. ' ' An interesting book for adventure-loving boys. It contains a capital description of the life, customs, and manners of the Norsemen, together with much pleasantly told information concerning ' Sebastian Cabot, ' ' De Soto,' ' The Early Colonizers of Virginia,' ' Drake,' ' Hudson,' and ' Henry Morgan.' This collection will be deservedly popular." — Pall Mall Gazette. DAVID LIVINGSTONE : The Story of his Life and Labours; or, The Weaver Boy who became a Mis- sionary. By H. G. Adams. With Steel Portrait and Thirty Illustrations. Fifty-seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. "An admirable condensation of 'The Story of the Life and Labours of Dr. Livingstone.' Comprehensive in range, abounding in detail, and vividly presenting the graphic description of the great explorer himself." — Record, RE-ISSUE OF JACOB ABBOTT'S STORIES. I. JUNO AND GEORGIE. II. MARY OSBORNE. III. JUNO on a JOURNEY. IV. HUBERT. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, is. 6d. each. " Well printed and elegantly bound, will surely meet with a hearty welcome. We remember the delight we took in them years ago, and how lessons which they inculcated have left their traces until this day. Dr. Arnold, of Rugby, was one of the warmest admirers of the author of ' The Young Christian,' and recognised in him a man of congenial spirit. For strong common sense, knowledge of child nature, and deep religious fervour, we have had nothing superior to these four delightful stories." — Freeman. " The author of ' The Young Christian ' is really an English classic. One of his little books exerted such an influence on Frederick Robertson of Brighton, that its perasal formed a turning-point in the life of that great preacher; and there have probably been thousands on both sides of the Atlantic similarly affected by the writings of the same author. We therefore welcome with peculiar satisfaction the elegant edition of four of his best stories." — Christian Leader. 28 BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE CHILDREN OF INDIA," etc. THE CHILDREN OF AFRICA : Written for all English- Speaking Children. With Map and Numerous Illustrations. Fcap. 4to, handsomely bound in cloth, gilt edges, 5s. THE CHILDREN OF CHINA : Written for the Children of England. By the same Author. With Numerous Illustra- tions. Handsomely bound, fcap. 4to, gilt edges, 5s. "Will be joyfully welcomed. Well written, very elegantly bound, and profusely illustrated, with a good map at the beginning. We have seldom seen a book for children which we liked better, or could more heartily recommend as a prize or present." — Record. DESSIE FENNIMORE. By Miss Hutton, Author of "Holi- day Time at Forest House," etc. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. THEN AND NOW; or, Abe's Temptation. By Lina Orman- CooPER, Author of " Charity Moore," etc. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, is. THE CATHEDRAL CAVE ; or, The Gate of Heaven. By the same Author. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, is. THE STORY OF THE LIFE OF JESUS Told in Words Easy to Read and Understand. By the Author of " The Story of the Bible," etc. With Forty Illustrations. Handsomely bound, fcap. 4to, cloth, 3s. 6d. "An excellent Sunday book for children; the story is tenderly and brightly told, the pictures of Eastern life and Jewish manners form an effective running commentary on the text, which is interspersed besides with graphic views of the sacred cities, sites, and scenery." — Times. THE SUNDAY BOOK OF BIOGRAPHY. Containing Biographical Sketches of Eminent Men and Women of our own Day. With numerous Illustrations. Large 4to, handsomely bound in cloth, 5 s. THE MISTRESS OF THE HOUSE: A Story of Christian Service in Daily Life. By the Author of " Isa Graeme's World," etc. Crown 8vo, cloth is. 6d. 29 ALBERT, THE PRINCE CONSORT. A Biography for the People. With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 2S. 6d. EMMANUEL. A Daily Text Book, with Sixteen Different Illustrations printed in Colours, and Illuminated Texts and Hymns. Illustrated Wrapper, is. May also be had in roan, French morocco, and German calf, padded. AS TIME GLIDES ON. Pictures and Poems for the Months of the Year. Elegantly printed in monotint, is. May also be had in cloth, roan, and padded German calf. BY THE AUTHOR OF ''CHRISTIE REDFERN'S TROUBLES," etc. I. EUNICE. With Eight Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. II. THE BAIRNS; or, Janet's Love and Service. With Five Illustrations. Thirteenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. "A special interest attaches to ' The Bairns.' The characters are forcibly delineated, and the touches of homeliness which seem almost peculiar to our northern kinsfolk impart a peculiar charm," — Record, III. FREDERIGA AND HER GUARDIANS; or, The Perils of Orphanhood. Cheaper Edition. Crown Svo, cloth, 3s. 6d. "A sweet, pure, and beautiful story, such as may be put with confidence into the hands of any English girl." — Sheffield Independent. IV. THE TWA MISS DAWSON S. Crown Svo, cloth^ 55. " We gladly welcome a new book by the author of 'The Bairns.' That charming Canadian story opened a new field for readers of fiction. The present story is limited to Eastern Scotland. It is a family picture, settling down chiefly to the experiences of a charming old maiden aunt — a most admirable delineation — and an equally charming niece." — British Quartetly Review. 30 ^untiap ilititarp for goung people. Each Volume Illustrated and Handsomely Bound. PRESS OPINIONS. ' ' These story-books for young people are very handsome and wonderfully cheap We feel very glad to recommend them to our friends." — Sword and T7-cnve!. " They one and all deserve a hearty welcome." — Christian. "The little folk are fortunate in being so well catered for." — Literary IVorld. "The volumes are attractive outwardly, and the stories are in all respects admirable, interesting in their narrative, full of fine incident, and of the highest moral and religious tone." — Daily Revinv. "An attractive series. All the stories convey instruction and entertainment. The bindings are pleasing, the letterpress is on good toned paper, and the books meet the need of those in search of presents for the young." — Leeds Mercury. PRICE THREE SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE EACH. 1. Sketches of Scripture Characters. By the Rev. Andrew Thomson, D.D., Author of " Samuel Rutherford," etc. 2. Ellen Manners ; or, The Recollections of a Governess. By E. W. 3. Lily Hope and her Friends. By Hetty Bowman. 4. Aunt Margaret's Visit ; or, The False and the Real. By Jane M. Kippen. 5. Chapters in the Life of Elsie Ellis. By Hetty Bowman. PRICE TWO SHILLINGS EACH. 1. Alice Thorne; or, A Sister's Work. 2. The Melvill Family and their Bible Readings. By Mrs. Ellis. 3. Violet and Daisy; or, the Picture with Two Sides. By M. H. 4. Newlyn House, the Home of the Davenports. By A. E. W. 5. Labourers in the Vineyard. By M. H. 6. Little Harry's Troubles. By the Author of "Gottfried." 7. The Harleys of Chelsea Place. By Sophia Tandy. 8. Orphan Lottie ; or, Honesty Brings its Own Reward. By Kathleen. 9. The Children of the Great King. By M. H. 10. Rosa Lindesay: the Light of Kilmain. By M. H. 31 ^unnag LilJtarp for i^oung People* Each Volume Illustrated and Handsomely Bound. PRICE ONE SHILLING EACH. 1. The Cottagers of Glencarran. By Letitia McClintock. 2. Lindsay Lee and his Friends : A Story for the Times. By P. E. S., Author of " Biddy, the Maid of All Work," etc. 3. Quiet Talks with my Young Friends. By M. H. 4. Frank Fielding; or, Debts and Difficulties. By Agnes Veitch. 5. Aunt Margery's Maxims : Work, Watch, Wait. By Sophia Tandy. 6. Mary Brunton and her One Talent. By E. A. D. R. 7. Tales from the Holly-Tree Farm. By Mrs. Charles Brent. 8. Anna ; or. The Little Runaway. By E. J. S. g. May Lawton ; or, Sunshine Clouded. A Tale of English Life. By N. O. R. A. 10. Little Miss Matty. A Tale of the Sea. By Mrs. George CUPPLES. PRICE NINE PENCE EACH. 1. Nothing to Do ; or. The Influence of a Life. By M. H. 2. Jottings from the Diary of the Sun. By M. H. 3. The Golden Chain : A Story on the Lord's Prayer. 4. Richard Blake and his Little Green Velvet Bible. By the Author of " The Story of a Red Velvet Bible." 5. The Story of a Red Velvet Bible. By M. H. 6. Mary Mansfield ; or, No Time to be a Christian. By M. H. 7. Arthur Fortescue ; or. The Schoolboy Hero. By Robert Hope Moncrieff. 8. The Sangreal ; or. The Hidden Treasure. By M. H. 9. Witless Willie, the Idiot Boy. By the Author of "Mary Matheson," etc. 10. Henry Morgan ; or. The Sower and the Seed. By M. H. 11. Bessie Brown, and Her First Service. By J. M. Kippen. 12. Mary's Work, and other Tales for Her Young Friends. By Hetty Bowman. LONDON : HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW. 32 m\di 4 V .»**^.- '■'■{M M ■.'W-; :^i>. w. ^^::--,^ »??ift;^. ^y: L5* », V- • ; P:'. A-- ^i •r .'■ » -^c ^^. .''