Part 8

These caterpillars make their homes for summer. There are some which need winter homes. The caterpillar of the Viceroy butterfly is only half-grown when winter comes. He lives in a willow-tree. He makes his warm winter house of a willow leaf.

How does he do it? He eats part of the leaf away to the mid-vein. Then he bends the lower part together, with silk. He fastens the edges tight and lines the inside with silk. Then he covers the outside with silk, and binds the nest to the twig with a silk thread, by crawling around and around, drawing the silk with him.

The fierce winter storms will not tear off this house, which he has bound to the tree. The silk he uses is of a brown, dry-leaf color. When the house is made, he crawls in, head first. The knobbed hind end of his body fills up the open part of the nest. Did you ever hear of caterpillars called “woolly-bears,” because of their furry bodies?

This caterpillar has a little cousin, who makes his winter home of a bent birch leaf. The color of his silk, and the knobbed end of his body, are just the gray-purple of young birch buds. So, in the spring, no bird notices him. Thus, while the snow flies, these caterpillars lie safe in their warm homes. They are torpid.

Early in the spring they become pupæ, and then butterflies. Some butterflies pass the winter as eggs, some as caterpillars, some as pupæ. Some butterflies have two or more broods in the summer. Thus we have new butterflies every week.

Full-grown butterflies sometimes live over winter. They come out in the spring, looking rather shabby, and with the edges of their wings broken. When frost comes, they creep into some crack, or under a piece of tree-bark, or down among the roots. As they lay their wings flat against each other, a small crevice will hold them.

But the glad time of the butterflies is in the summer, when they have wings, honey, and sunshine. Some live from May until September. Some come out in April, and live only through May. Some wait until July and August. Others come for a little time in the spring, and a second brood in October. Of these many lie torpid in cracks over winter.

At night, and during rainy days, butterflies hide, as they do in cold weather. They seldom fly abroad before nine in the morning. Between four and five in the afternoon they begin to steal off to bed. They are out in full force in those bright, hot noon hours, when the flowers are at their best. Happy butterfly, he flits about in the sun and drinks honey all the time of roses!

FOOTNOTES:

[22] Nature Reader, No. 1, p. 54.

LESSON XXV.

JOSEPH’S COAT.

Many butterflies live alone. But some seem to go in what we call a swarm. A “flight” of butterflies is a better name for many together than “a swarm.” It is more common to see a number of caterpillars together than many butterflies. The large, gay-colored butterflies are generally seen only by one, two, or three, at a time.

No doubt you have seen a piece of damp ground, which looks as if it had burst into blossom, so many yellow butterflies have lit upon it. They are fond of moisture.

Orange-and-black butterflies have been seen to settle on a dead bush, and cover its branches like gay leaves. They hang, in such a case, with their wings folded against each other, and their backs down. They do not cling one to another, as bees, when they swarm.

A gentleman saw a great number of blue-spotted butterflies, rising from some low pine-trees, where they seemed to have spent the night. Another gentleman saw a very great swarm of the orange-and-black butterfly, which hovers about the milk-weed. Hundreds of small, copper-red butterflies sometimes light together on a hot, dusty road. Even the fine swallow-tails have been seen in numbers together, when attracted by the honey and perfume of a lilac-bush.

Some butterflies eat less than others, and spend much time sitting in the sun, opening and shutting their vans or wings. They seem very fond of play. You will see them whirling about, and chasing each other, like children at a good game.

Some butterflies have a way of flying at whatever they see in motion. If you toss a glove, ball, or little basket, into the air, they dart at it. They seem curious to know what it is. Did you ever see a little copper-colored butterfly, with black spots, darting at a big beetle or grasshopper?

These little fellows seem to lie in wait under the leaves, and rush out at whatever goes by, just as little dogs dash out from gate-ways!

Let us now talk a little about the colors of butterflies. The upper and under sides of the wings often differ much. The upper side is much brighter than the under side. Do you see a reason for this?

The insect flies with the wings spread out in full view. Its flight is not even and straight. It moves in jerks, called “flitting,” and it dashes here and there, zig-zag. This way of flying makes it very difficult for a bird to pick up a butterfly on the wing.

Thus the pretty insect is safe enough when he flies. But it would be easy to pick him up when he lights. So the upper side of his wings shows most of his beauty, and the under side, which only is shown when he rests, is shaded like a dry leaf, or is of the hue of the plants upon which he often sits.

Not only is the butterfly protected by the graver color of the under side of its vans, but it wears the general flower-color of the season, or of its home.

In spring, you know how many of the flowers are blue, or partly blue. The violets, the hyacinths, the purple crocus, the liverwort, and many more, are blue, and among them fly blue butterflies. There are more blue ones in spring, than at any other time of year.

Also, in spring, there are many yellow butterflies. You will hardly be able to distinguish them at first glance, from the buttercups, dandelions, crocuses, and cowslips, upon which they rest.

The little butterflies, which love the dusky woods, are brown, drab, and gray, with black or reddish spots, and dull, yellow marks. Their coats are like the colors of the tree trunks, the mosses, and dead leaves, where they live.

Then when the daisies and lilies are wide out, with the white roses and bright-hued summer flowers, come the white butterflies. With them follow the splendid swallow-tail family, to swing around the tulips and gladiolas, and petunias, yellow lilies, and geraniums.

In the autumn, among the marigolds, dahlias, and asters, all our gayest-coated butterflies come out,--orange, gold, brown, scarlet, purple,--eyed like peacocks’ tails.

You must not think from this, that you will see _only_ such and such colored butterflies, at certain times of year. You may see swallow-tails very early in spring. They have lived over winter.[23] You may see in autumn the second brood of spring butterflies. You may find the autumn butterflies sailing about in the summer. They have lived over winter as caterpillars.

A little lad said to me, one day, when he saw a very gay peacock butterfly, “I think Nature got tired of painting, and emptied her whole paint-box on that fellow!” Indeed, it does seem as if there is no gay tint of earth, or sky, or sea, no hue of flower, or rainbow, which the butterfly does not wear.

They come to us in red, purple, green, blue, white, black. They take all shades of these colors. Then the colors are put on in lines, dots, streaks, bars, spots, fringes. They are made more beautiful by the waved line of the lower wings, by the velvet body, the slender legs, the graceful feelers, the bright, jewel-like eyes.

No silk dyer can bring out a new shade, but some butterfly has worn it for his every-day clothes, since the creation. No king can buy any richer colors, or more finely put together, than our butterfly wears. And all else about him sets off the splendor of Joseph’s coat.

FOOTNOTES:

[23] North of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, the swallow-tails never live over winter.

LESSON XXVI.

COUSIN MOTH.

In the great order of the scale-wings, the butterfly is of the family of the “club-horns.” His cousin, the moth, is of the family of the “varied-horns.” The feelers of the butterfly, up to the club, are straight and smooth. The feelers of the moth are curved and often fringed. If you put them under a strong microscope, you might think you were looking at lovely ferns.

Do you remember what you read in the first and second book of Nature Readers, of the hook-wing family? Almost all moths have a hook and catch to fasten the lower wing to the upper one in flight. No butterfly has such a hook.

I shall now tell you about cousin moth. He is the night flyer, with the big, thick body, the furry coat, the fancy feelers, the hook for his wings. He is the flyer that rests with his wings laid open and flat, or laid close down along the sides of his body, like a cloak.

The moth often flies by day. He has lovely, painted wings, but they do not _gleam_ as do those of the butterfly.

“I do not want to hear about moths,” said a little girl; “I know all about _them_. I kill all I can see. I killed a big, white one, last night. They do so much harm. They ate up my mother’s best muff!”

“And did you kill the tiny, silvery-looking moth, which was flying close to the carpet? He is a little fellow, who when he lights, is folded into a roll, not so long as the nail of your little finger.”

“No,” says the little girl; “he is too little to do any harm. I let him alone.”

“Alas! my child. How easy it is, in this world, to be mistaken! How often the innocent suffer for the guilty! That silent, white creature, looking like the ghost of a lily, never has done any harm. That little silver roll is the meddler, who, in his early days, ate up your mother’s muff! Come, I see you know nothing about moths.”

As we sat on the porch, last night, some one said, “Who ever before saw a humming-bird flying at night? There is one now, at the honey-suckles.” No! it was not a humming-bird, but a large hawk-moth. He hung poised on his quivering wings, unrolled his long trunk, thrust it deep into a flower, and drank honey.

It was hard to distinguish him from a humming-bird. Then, as he dashed across a moonlit space, he looked like the swallows we had watched at sunset.

The hawk-moths are large, with large furry bodies. They have a swift, bird-like flight. One of the largest is called the “death’s head.” He is furry, even to his wings and legs. On his shoulders he has black and white marks, like a skull.

The caterpillar of this moth is the largest of caterpillars. It is four inches long, and as thick as a man’s finger. Its color is green, gray, and yellow, with black dots. It lives on potato-vines. It has bluish stripes on the sides.

If you find one, you can raise a moth from it. You must keep it in a dark place, give it potato leaves to eat, and some moist earth to burrow in. For this caterpillar hides in the ground, to spend his pupa days. The pupa case looks, I think, much like a sea-shell.

A queer thing about this moth is, that it can squeak. If you touch its feet, with a bit of stick, it seems angry. It crouches down, and gives a squeak. No one knows how it makes this noise.

Another curious moth is the wasp moth. It is a day-flyer. It loves the hottest noons. It does not look much like a moth. It looks like a wasp, or hornet. Its body is slim, and has yellow and black bands. Its wings have very few scales. The wings are thin and clear, like those of a wasp.

These wasp moths live about trees and shrubs. They lay their eggs under the bark.

The caterpillars are able to eat wood. They gnaw the wood for food, and so dig their way into the trees, and live there. When they have eaten all they want, they have made a nice little hole in the tree. They line it with silk. Then they fall asleep in their pupa state.

When they are ready to come out, they do not leave their hard pupa case in the tree. They need it to protect their wings, as they creep out. When they get to the door of the hole, they pull their bodies out of the case. Then they fly off, and leave the pupa case sticking in the hole.

The most useful moth, one worth all the rest, is the bombyx. He made your mother’s silk dress, and your hair ribbon. “What!” Well, did you never hear of the silk-worm? The silk-worm is the caterpillar of a moth.

This is a dull, plain, little insect. Its trunk is very short, in fact, it is almost gone, for this moth never eats. It is very short-lived. All it lives for is to lay a great many hundred eggs.

These eggs are laid on mulberry trees. The caterpillar soon hatches from the egg. It is a small, homely thing. It eats much during thirty days. In one thing it is different from all other caterpillars. It has a much better silk-spinner in its head. It makes a great deal of strong, yellow silk. Its body seems full of the sticky stuff, which, when it is drawn out, hardens into silk.

Of this silk the caterpillar spins its cocoon. It spins hundreds of yards of fine, silk thread. Then it wraps itself in a cocoon and casts off its caterpillar skin. If left alone in the cocoon, it eats its way out, when it has become a full-grown moth.

You must ask your mother or teacher to tell you how this ball of silk is turned into ribbons and dresses.

From the moth which makes silk for our clothes, let us turn to the moth which eats up our fur and woollen clothes. The name of this little plague is _Tinea_. You might as well call him _tiny_, for he is the least of all moths. He looks as harmless as possible.

He is a mere little silvery, fringy roll, hiding in shady places, or flitting low and silently on his little gray wings.

But little Mrs. Tiny, whose name _tinea_ means that she is a spoiler of things, lays hundreds of eggs. She hides her eggs in carpets, curtains, furniture, and clothes. As soon as the little caterpillar is out of the egg, it proceeds to gnaw what it is lying on.

This small creature bites and pulls out hairs, or threads, and weaves for itself a nice little rainbow case. As it grows larger, it builds more case with more threads. As these hairs or threads are stolen out of our best things, soon we find great holes in our coats and gowns.

Shake the clothes, and out fall hundreds of little larvæ, or wee caterpillars. When the case is all finished the caterpillar likes to hang it up by the closed end. Then he hangs in it head downward, as a pupa. The case looks like a little roll of dust and fuzz. But the fuzzy end is the head of little _tinea_, living out his pupa days.

LESSON XXVII.

THE CHILD OF THE NIGHT.

I suppose you have seen great cobweb-like nests, hanging on plum, cherry, and apple trees. You have heard them called “worm nests.” You have seen that they are full of brown caterpillars, about an inch long.

If you had looked at the twigs of these trees, just after the leaves fall in the autumn, you might have thought some fairy had been putting belts and bracelets upon them. Around the twigs were little even bands of beads. These beads were the eggs of a moth.

As soon as the caterpillars come out of these eggs, they unite in spinning their large silken nests, or tents. There they live together, until they have grown to nearly full size. Then they bite holes in the nest and travel off, each its own way.

When the caterpillar is full-grown, it spins a nice, thin, clear cocoon, and powders it all over with yellow dust.

When the moth comes out, it has yellowish wings with brown bands. It appears in July, and at once goes off to the orchards. There, in the autumn, it lays its eggs in rings around the twigs. This moth rests with its wings folded against its body like a cloak. Many moths fold their wings cloak-wise, instead of spreading them out flat, when they rest.

There is a very beautiful large moth, which has a curious caterpillar, about which I must tell you. Whenever this caterpillar changes his skin, he puts on a new color. At first he is black, and so hairy that he looks like a little hedgehog. His next skin is a gray-green, with jet-black hairs and dots. The third skin is light green, with five rows of black dots, a number of clear, yellow spots, and two splendid red spots, like buttons.

The fourth coat is blue, with black and red buttons. Then his last coat is green, with orange buttons. He now spins a cocoon. It is double. The outside is tough and skin-like. The inner part is of softest silk. This caterpillar is found in the south.

I should like you to see the caterpillars of the sphinx moth eating. This moth gets its name from an odd way the caterpillar has of resting. It lifts up about half of its body, and holds it stiff, and quite still. People think it looks like a great stone image in Egypt called the sphinx.

The sphinx moth lays its eggs on the top sprays of a weed called the spurge. This weed has a milky juice. The seed grows in a little nut-like pod or case. The caterpillar of the sphinx hatches from the egg among the tender green top leaves. These will make its food. At once it begins to eat. It grows fast. As it is greedy, and likes spurge, it eats up all the plant but the roots.

The caterpillar eats the plant from the top down. When it comes to a seed pod it seems to say, “Now for a treat!” It sits up in its funny way, and takes a seed case between its front feet, as a monkey would hold a nut in its paws. It holds the pod against its mouth with its front feet, and gnaws away at it, until it is all gone.

When one plant is stripped bare, off the caterpillars go to another. There they begin at the lower leaves, and eat upward. The lower leaves are coarse and hard. Why do they eat them? Why do they not climb up for better leaves?

Do you not see the wisdom of this habit, which has been fixed in these little creatures? If they climbed up, and ate the top leaves, their little brothers up there would have nothing to eat when they came from the egg. Then they would starve.

If you poke one of these caterpillars, while it is eating, it seems to be very angry. It spits out a quantity of green, ill-smelling juice. But the sphinx caterpillars are pretty, if they have not very good manners. They are black, or dark green, with crimson lines like ribbons on them. They are dotted all over with spots like pearls.

They are full-grown in July. Then they creep into the ground for their pupa state. They lie there, shut up in shell-like cases. In a few weeks, out come the moths. Very early in the day, or late in the afternoon, you may see them flying about honey-bearing plants.

This moth is very pretty. It has large wings of a rose color, with black and green wavy bands. There are two broods of them each season. The caterpillars come in June and September. At the end of September, the last brood of caterpillars hides in the ground to spend the winter in the pupa state.

All moths that fly in the evening are attracted by light. If you wish to see what very beautiful creatures they are, set some plates on a table around a bright light. Have some glasses ready, and open the window, or outside door. You will do well to have some ether and some cotton wool.

In come the moths! As they blunder about the light, it is easy to catch them gently, and put them on a plate under a glass. Then put in a bit of wool wet with ether, and they will soon be dead. Or, you can look at them awhile, and then let them go. If a moth falls on the velvet or woollen table-cover, you will see the cloth covered with gold dust. These tiny dust grains are his scales.

You will wonder at the beauty of these insects. They have silver and gold gleams. Even the smallest are lovely. Many of them are dressed in pea-green and silver, or rose-pink, with red, black, and brown lines, and fringes. Some are lemon or orange color. I have found very lovely little moths, clinging to the window panes, early in the morning.

The moths of tropic lands are very large, and very splendid in their colors. I do not think they are prettier than many of those in our own land. Our moon moth has long tails, even longer and more curved than those of the swallow-tail butterfly. It is of a delicate cream color, with pink spots.

Now, I will tell you how to catch night-flying moths, if you wish to make a collection. But do not take more than one or two of a kind. It is cruel to waste life.

A collection of moths is hard to keep, their bodies are so soft and large.

If you wish to catch night moths, take some brown sugar and boil it to a thick syrup. Put in it some peppermint, or rose water, or vanilla, to make it smell nice. Soak some white rags in it. Then lay the rags in a bowl. Put plenty of pins on your sleeve. Have some boxes to put the moths in, and some ether to kill them.

You should have your _net_ also. You know a net to catch insects is a bag of lace, or fine netting, sewed on a hoop with a handle. You need a short handle in the night-moth net.

Go to a clump of trees, and pin the sugared rags on the trunks. When you have pinned on all you wish, turn about, and go to the trees where you put the rags. Have your lantern also. You will see dozens of moths feasting on the sugar in the rags. You can catch as many as you like, and put them in your boxes.

LESSON XXVIII.

THE BIRD.

A bird is an animal which comes from an egg, wears feathers, and is built for flying. Even the few birds which run, and do not fly, are all built on the general plan of flyers.

An egg was described in lesson seven of this book. All of you have seen plenty of eggs. The eggs of birds are usually hatched by the mother-bird sitting upon them for a certain number of days, or weeks, and keeping them warm with her body. Some few birds, as the ostrich, hide their eggs in the sand to be hatched by sun heat. One or two other kinds of birds hide their eggs in earth or leaves.

I shall tell you of only a few things about the bird’s body. I wish to tell you just enough about birds to interest you, so that you will try to learn more about them.

The first thing for you to notice about the body of the bird is, that it is built for lightness. The bones are thin, and most of them are hollow. Your bones, and the bones of four-legged animals, are either solid, or hollow and filled in the centre with marrow. But the bird’s bones are made to give it the greatest possible size, with the least possible weight.

Not only are the bird’s bones hollow, but it is able to send warm air from its lungs through them. Thus they not only do not weigh the bird down, but really help to keep it up in the air.

The bird has more bones in its neck than men or beasts have. The bird’s neck is long, and bends easily. Its head and neck divide the air before it as it flies. Even birds which look short-necked have really more bones in the back of the neck than you have. They owe the short look to the feathers.

The body of the bird is built on the _boat plan_. It is an air-boat. Its breast-bone serves as a keel. It is placed low down, and is large and sharp. In very strong, flying birds, as the eagle, this keel is very large. To this are fastened the many strong muscles which move the wings. The few birds which do not fly, as the ostrich and penguin, have the breast-bone flattened or “raft-shape.”

The ribs of the bird form a large, light, boat-shaped frame. Its tail is made of a number of backbone pieces, crowded close together. This tail moves easily, and serves the bird as a rudder, to steer and steady its way through the air.

If you strip all the meat off a chicken’s wing-bones, you will see a kind of a rude pattern of a man’s arm and hand, with a thumb and two fingers. The length of the wing usually depends on the length of the upper wing-bone. But in humming-birds and swifts, the lower part of the wing is the longer.