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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/21948-8.txt b/21948-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..536e357 --- /dev/null +++ b/21948-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3991 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Little Busybodies, by Jeanette Augustus Marks +and Julia Moody + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Little Busybodies + The Life of Crickets, Ants, Bees, Beetles, and Other Busybodies + + +Author: Jeanette Augustus Marks and Julia Moody + + + +Release Date: June 27, 2007 [eBook #21948] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE BUSYBODIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 21948-h.htm or 21948-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948/21948-h/21948-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948/21948-h.zip) + + + + + +LITTLE BUSYBODIES + +The Life of Crickets, Ants, Bees Beetles, and Other Busybodies + +by + +JEANNETTE MARKS and JULIA MOODY +of Mount Holyoke College + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +[Illustration: +1. Cicada Killer +2. May-fly +3. Lacewing-fly +4. Dragon-fly +5. Aphis +6. June-Beetle +7. Cicada +8. Lady-Beetle +9. Mole Cricket +E. L. Beutenmuller] + + +Harper & Brothers Publishers +New York and London +MCMIX + + + * * * * * + + +STORY-TOLD SCIENCE +For Children from Eight to Fourteen Years of Age + +Other Books for the Series: + +CRUSTY COUSINS: Crabs, Spiders, etc. + +SHELL DWELLERS AND URCHINS: Clams, Oysters, Snails, Starfish, Sea +Urchins + +HATCHING WATER BABIES: Fish and Frogs + +BIRD WITS + +LITTLE MAMMALS + +FLOWERS + +A series intended to cover simple types of plant and animal life, +arranged in logical order + + + * * * * * + + +Harper & Brothers, Publishers, N. Y. +Copyright, 1909, by Harper & Brothers. +All rights reserved. +Published April, 1909. + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + + A WORD TO THE CHILDREN AND THE WISE v + + I. THE JOURNEY 1 + II. RANGELEY VILLAGE 11 + III. THE LITTLE ARMY (Locusts and Grasshoppers) 21 + IV. FIDDLERS (Crickets) 34 + V. HOW KATY DID (Katydids) 43 + VI. FISHING (Dragon-flies) 50 + VII. THE SWIMMING-POOL (The May-fly) 61 + VIII. THE RAINY DAY (Leaf and Tree Hoppers) 68 + IX. THE PRIZE (Lace-Wing, Ant-Lion, and Caddis-Worm) 77 + X. A NAGGING FAMILY (Flies and Mosquitoes) 90 + XI. CAMPING OUT (Butterflies and Moths) 103 + XII. CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS (Butterflies and Moths, continued) 114 + XIII. STORM BOUND (Beetles) 122 + XIV. A DAY'S HUNTING (Bees) 136 + XV. LEAVING CAMP (Wasps) 153 + XVI. EYES AND NO EYES (Ants) 167 + +NOTE.--We do not think it practicable to give classifications except as +they exist unnamed in the above titles: (1) straight winged: locusts, +grasshoppers, crickets, katydids; (2) tooth-shaped: dragon-flies; (3) +ephemerals: may-flies; (4) half-winged: leaf and tree hoppers; (5) +nerve-winged: lace-wings, ant-lions, and caddis-worms; (6) two-winged: +flies and mosquitoes; (7) scaly winged: butterflies and moths; (8) +sheath-winged: beetles; (9) membranous-winged: bees, wasps, and ants. + + + + +A WORD TO THE CHILDREN AND THE WISE + +We hope that the children who read this book will like the boys and +girls who are in it. They are real, and the good times they have are +real, as any boy or girl who has lived out-of-doors will know. And the +stories are true. Peter is not always good. But do you expect a child +_always_ to be good? We do not. Sometimes, too, the frolics turn in to a +scramble to catch a dragon-fly that will not be caught, and there are +accidents. Also, Betty and Jack work hard to win a prize which the guide +gives to the child who learns most about ants. + +Of course it would be impossible for five children to go in search of +locusts, grasshoppers, crickets, katydids, dragon-flies, May-flies, +leaf-hoppers, lace-wings, caddis-worms, butterflies, beetles, bees, +wasps--and so many other six-legged creatures that among them they have +wings and legs enough to fill a new Pandora's box--without having a +good deal happen. And a good deal does happen. It is all true enough, +and every word about the six-legged busybodies is true as true. The +other books, too, that come after this in our _Story-Told Science +Series_ will be every word true. + +And we who wrote this book? Well, we, too, have been children. We used +to climb trees and turn somersaults; why--But that is another story! And +we remember so well what it used to be like to have to learn dull things +we did not wish to know. So we said to ourselves, as we looked over our +spectacles at each other, "No, they sha'n't be told a single +uninteresting fact; they sha'n't be dull, poor dears, as we were so long +ago, before we put on spectacles and began to call ourselves wise." + +And so, although we sat down and wrote a book just about long enough for +a school-year's work; although we felt very proud because our stories +had more wonderful six-legged creatures than any book written for +children; although we took pains to have in the book only such little +creatures as any one of us could see any day; although we hoped that +mothers and teachers would say, "At last, this is a book the children +and I can like and find useful!" or, "There, that will help as a +starting-point to tell about the bees and the flowers!" or, "This story +about the flies will teach the children what it means to be clean!" +Although, I say, we hoped all these things, yet our chief hope was that +we might give all sorts of children a good time. + +So we put our spectacles on and looked very wise, and took a quantity of +ink on our pens and began to write. And we wrote and wrote and wrote. +And part of the time, while one of us was writing and hoping the stories +would be so interesting the children would want to write about them, +too, the other was drawing and labelling each sketch so plainly that any +child could understand it, even if the ears were quite where they could +not be expected to be, or there were more eyes than, seemingly, one +creature ought to have, or wings and legs served to make music, as no +sensible child could possibly guess. + +And now we can't do better than wish you a good time before we say +good-bye. We wish you to enjoy all the frolics, to feel how jolly it is +to be out-of-doors in the woods and fields and lakes, climbing, +canoeing, picnicing, and swimming. + +But still more, we hope that you will realize that more wonderful than +the most wonderful fairy story ever told is the marvel of the created +life of these little insects; we want you to come to know something of +their joys and troubles; we want you to learn how to be kind to them, +and how they may be useful to you; and we want you to find out for +yourselves the places they take in the great plan of creation. + +In other words, we want you to think and feel about the lives of these +six-legged busybodies, and see for yourselves how much even a butterfly +can add to the interest and beauty of living. Does this seem a little +bit like a sermon? Well, you see, we forgot we had kept on our +spectacles so long, and somehow spectacles always turn into sermons. +Perhaps it is because both begin with the letter S. + +And now this is all of our short word to the wise. We expect to make +each one of our books better than the last, and you can help us to do +this by writing any suggestions you may have. We shall be glad to hear +from children, big or little. + +J. M. and J. M. + +South Hadley, Massachusetts, +January 27, 1909. + + + + + + +LITTLE BUSYBODIES + +I + +THE JOURNEY + + +"It will be stories all summer, won't it?" said Betty to her mother. + +"Yes, dear." + +"And hunting, too?" said Jimmie. + +"Hunting with your new gun and hunting with your camera." + +Jimmie unfastened the case of his new camera and looked in. What a +beautiful one it was, and what pictures he meant to take, and how the +camera would impress Ben Gile! Jimmie looked about proudly. He knew no +other boy in that whole great train had a camera like the one his father +had given him. + +"Mother, when will it be lunch?" asked Betty. + +"Luncheon so soon!" + +"I'm as hungry as a bear," declared Jimmie. + +"And hear Kitty mewing; she's hungry, too." Betty looked at the big +round basket, whose cover kept restlessly stirring. + +"Did you leave something in the baggage-car for Max to eat?" Mrs. Reece +asked Jimmie. + +"Yes, mum. It's one o'clock; can't we have something now?" + +"As late as that! No wonder you chickens are hungry for--" + +"Chicken!" squealed Betty. + +"And ham sandwiches!" added Jimmie. + +"And chocolate cake!" + +"And root-beer!" + +"And peppermints!" + +"Ssh!" said Mrs. Reece, "or every one in the car will know what little +piggies you are. Ask Lizzie for the basket." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Outer wing of locust. +_B._ Inner wing of locust. +_C._ Sideview of locust. + _a._ Antenna. + _b._ Simple eye. + _c._ Compound eye. + _d._ Thorax. + _e._ Abdomen. + _f._ Breathing pore. + _g._ Ear. +_D._ Hind leg of locust.] + +Every minute the air was growing cooler. The children could smell the +pine woods, and once in a while the train flashed by a great big +sawmill, or a lake set like a sapphire in the deep green of the forests. +And the hills were rolling nearer and nearer in great shadows. The +children ate their luncheon contentedly, looking out of the windows and +thinking of the mountains there would be to climb, the ponds, the +streams to fish, the pictures to take, and the stories they were to hear +the summer long. + +"Mother," said Betty, eating her second piece of chocolate +cake--"mother, what will Ben Gile tell us this summer?" + +"Let me see," said her mother, "perhaps it will be about the little +creatures--grasshoppers and katydids, butterflies and bees." + +"Goody!" + +"Pooh!" said Jimmie, "I don't see what you want to know of those old +things. I'd much rather hear about porcupines. There isn't anything to +say about a grasshopper except that it hops." + +"Isn't there, my son? Well, that shows that you don't use your eyes. +Suppose some one said there was nothing to say about you except that you +whistle?" + +"Well, what is there about an old grasshopper, anyhow?" + +"I don't know, but Ben will." + +"But tell us something, mum," urged Jimmie, who loved his mother dearly, +and was certain she knew more than anybody else, in part because she had +been to college, but chiefly because she was his mother. + +"Let me see," said Mrs. Reece, "I shall have to think about it." Both +of the children came as close to her as they could, while she continued: + +"What a strange world it would be if there were no insects in it! We +should have no little crickets chirping in the sunny fields or in the +dark corners and cracks of our houses. There would be no katydids +singing all night, no clacking of the locusts in the tall grass along +dusty roads, no drowsy hum of bees. There would be no little ants and +big ants digging out underground tunnels and carrying the grains of sand +as far from their doorways as possible. There would be no brightly +colored moths and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. We should +find no sparkling fairy webs spun anew for us every morning." + +"But, mother, all these creatures aren't insects," said Jimmie. + +"Yes, they are, dear. It is hard to believe that they all belong to the +same family called insecta, but they do." + +"Mother, what's that word mean?" + +"It doesn't mean anything more than cut up into parts. You see, Betty, +all these insect bodies are made up of separate rings joined nicely +together. If you look carefully you will find that behind the head there +is another distinct part. This is called the thorax, which means chest. +Behind that there is a pointed part of the body, which is called the +abdomen. Then, if you look again, you will see that all these little +creatures are alike in that they have six jointed legs." + +"And are they all good, like the bee and the butterfly?" asked Betty, +who wasn't always a good little girl herself, and who thought it would +be much nicer if insects were naughty sometimes. + +"Not all, dear," answered Mrs. Reece; "some do us real service, but +others are troublesome; insects are such hungry little fellows, and they +don't have chocolate cake every day to keep them from getting hungry. +They are hungry when they are babies and hungry when they grow up. Some +eat all they can see--like a little boy I know--and some prefer the +tender leaves and twigs. Some care only for the sweet sap flowing into +the new leaves and buds. And still others like best the tender new roots +of plants." + +"Mother, what are the baddest ones?" asked Betty. + +"Pooh! I know," said Jimmie; "the beetles are, because they eat +everything. Why, they'd eat the buttons off your coat or the nose off +your face or--" + +"Jim! Jim! do tell the truth! The beetles, and bugs, too, are the most +troublesome. Many of the bugs are such tiny little creatures that it is +hard to realize that they can hurt a plant. But bugs have sucking beaks. +With these beaks they bore into the leaves or the buds of the plant, and +then by means of tiny muscles at the back of the mouth they pump up the +sap. To be sure, one little pump could do no harm; but think of millions +of little sucking beaks, millions of little pumps busy at work on a +single plant! Do you remember the pansies mother had in the winter, and +how they were all covered by green plant-lice? Well, those are bugs +called aphids. You remember they were pale green, just the color of the +plant, and so transparent and soft they looked most harmless. The scale +insects are very troublesome, too, but mother doesn't know anything +about them." + +"Oh, I know what _they_ are," announced Jimmie, "they get into the fruit +trees." + +"And sometimes onto shrubs, too. Mother has heard of a scale insect out +in California which has been a great nuisance to fruit-growers. A +certain ladybug finds this cottony-cushion scale a tender morsel, so +many ladybugs were taken out there to help the owners of the fruit farms +get rid of the scale." + +"Did they carry them all the way out, mother?" + +"Yes," answered Jimmie; "they got a Pullman car for them, and Mr. and +Mrs. Ladybug and family travelled in style." + +"Mother, tell Jim to be still." Betty, not unlike other little sisters, +hated to be teased by her brother. + +"And now, let me see," said Mrs. Reece. "I don't know that I can tell +you any more until I know more myself. Yes, I do know what baby beetles +are called. They are called grubs, and they live in the ground until it +is time for them to turn into grown-up beetles. While they are babies +they eat as much and as fast as they can, as no baby but a beetle +should. The more they eat the sooner they come out into the bright world +as a June-bug or some other kind of beetle. They eat all the tender +little roots they can find. This is very nice--" + +"For Mary Ann, but rather hard on Abraham." + +"You horrid boy," said Betty, "you don't even let me hear a story in +peace! It's very nice what, mother?" + +"It's very nice for the little grubs, but it's rather hard on the +plants, for if too many roots are nibbled away the plants die. The +caterpillars are great eaters, too." + +Betty leaned over and whispered something to her mother; then they both +giggled. + +"I know what you're saying," said Jimmie, but after that he was quieter. + +"Sometimes a caterpillar will thrive on just one kind of a plant; it may +be carrot, it may be milkweed. On that it feeds until it has grown as +large as possible. Then it spins itself a nice silken cocoon, or rolls +itself up in a soft leaf and takes a long, long nap. And now it is time +for us to take a nap, too, for we shall soon reach Bemis, and then there +will be still two long lakes to cross and a carry to walk." + + + + +II + +RANGELEY VILLAGE + + +The next morning great was the stir in the town, for it was known by the +village children that Betty and Jimmie had come, and by the grown-ups +that Mrs. Reece was there. All winter long the children had looked +forward to their coming, for it meant jolly times: picnics, parties, +expeditions, and games. Then, too, Ben Gile would begin to tell them +wonderful things. Through the winter he had been teaching school, and it +was only when the ice broke up in the big lake and the beavers decided +to stop sleeping that Ben Gile came back to his guiding. + +There was great excitement about Turtle Lodge. Lizzie kept flying out +with rugs, and then forgetting they hadn't been brushed and flying in +again. The cat was playing croquet with the balls and spools of an open +work-basket, and Max had discovered an old straw hat which tasted very +good to him. Only Mrs. Reece kept her head and stayed indoors, moving +about quietly from room to room, putting the house in that beautiful +order which little children never think about. + +Out on the grass that sloped down to the street, which, in its turn, +tumbled head over heels down to the lake, Betty and Jimmie were playing +with their playmates. They were all so wild with joy that every time +Jimmie saw another boy he shouted, "Come over!" when the boy was coming, +anyway, just as fast as he could. + +Up, up from the foot of the lake climbed an old man; up, up, up the +steep street he came, his white hair shaking and shining in the brisk +June breeze, his long, white beard caught every once in a while by the +wind and tossed sideways. + +"Mother," called Jimmie, "Ben Gile is coming!" + +Out came Mrs. Reece to greet the old man. + +Then, one by one, the children spoke with Ben Gile. + +"You're having a good time before you can say Jack Robinson, aren't +you?" + +"Yes, sir," came in a chorus of voices. Then, "Tell us a story; tell us +a story!" + +[Illustration: +_A._ A few facets of the compound eye of an insect. +_B._ Brain and nerve cord of an insect.] + +"Not to-day," said the old man. "Why, you want a story before you've had +time to turn around." + +Betty stuck her head out from behind her mother. "Mother said you would +tell us about crickets and moths, and everything." + +"Well, well, well," murmured the old man, "did she? But I can't tell a +story to-day. I'll tell you, though, something, so that when you come to +collect the little creatures you'll know what to do. All sit down." + +They all sat down cross-legged on the ground, the old man in the middle. + +"Here, you big Jim-boy, catch me that butterfly." + +There was a wild rush, and the bright wings were soon caught. + +"There, you've torn off one of its legs," said the old man. + +Jimmie looked troubled. "I didn't mean to, sir." + +"Do you know how it hurts to have your leg torn off, boy? Do you know, +children?" + +"No," came in a chorus. + +The guide took out a piece of paper and drew a picture on it. "There, +every part of that little fellow's body I've drawn has muscles, such +fine muscles no naked eye could ever see them. I'll show them to you +under the microscope in my cabin. Those muscles move the body, and each +muscle is controlled by threads, still more fine, called nerves." + +The old man reached out like a flash and pinched Jimmie. + +"Ouch!" cried the boy, and there was a shout of laughter from the +children. + +"You felt that?" + +"I guess I did," said Jim, sulkily. + +"Well, that's because you're made something the same way this butterfly +is. When anything hurts us it's because some of our nerves are hurt, and +quick as a flash the news travels to the brain, and we try to get away +from the thing that causes pain--a pinch, perhaps, or, still worse, the +hurt of a poor leg that has been torn off." + +"But a butterfly hasn't any brain," objected Jimmie, who was still +cross. + +"Hasn't it? Well, we'll see. Now, you watch my pencil." He pointed to +the head of the butterfly. "This little fellow has a very tiny brain +there. Also running through the body, from end to end, is a little tube +through which the food passes. It is in the head above this tube where +the tiny brain is, and from which two little threads run down around +the tube and join to form another little knot of nerve cells like that +of the brain. Then, from this second one there runs a series of little +knots united by fine threads the entire length of the body, one in each +ring of the body. Do you understand that?" + +"Yes," piped up Betty, "mother told us an insect is made up of rings, +and--and--" she stammered, surprised at her own boldness, "the word +means cut up into parts." + +"Good! Why, that's a real bright girl. Well, from each one of these +knots nerves go to the muscles of the body." + +"It's just like a lot of beads on a string," said Hope Stanton. + +"So it is, child. So, you see, if we handle an insect roughly, squeezing +it too hard, or breaking a leg or a wing, a message is sent to one of +these little beads or knots or nerve cells, and the poor, helpless +creature suffers pain." + +"But I didn't mean to hurt that butterfly!" + +"No, of course you didn't. The only way to do," said the old man, "is to +catch them in a net. Make it of bobinet with a rounded bottom, sewing it +to a wire ring and fastening it to a handle that is the right weight and +length for your arm." + +"But then, after you caught it, how could you keep it, sir?" asked +Betty. + +"There are two merciful ways," said the old man, "of killing insects, +but neither way is safe for children to try. Put a few drops of +chloroform on a piece of cotton under a tumbler turned upside down. Put +the insect inside. It will soon fall asleep without pain. The other is a +cyanide bottle. I have one down at the cabin. It must be kept tightly +corked and never smelled. The cyanide in the bottle is hard and dry. +Several insects may be put into the bottle at the same time. Once there +they die very quickly. After large insects are killed the wings should +be folded over the back, and they should be placed in a little case like +this. See, I'm folding a piece of paper to form a three-cornered case. +Then I bend down one edge to keep the little case closed." + +At this moment out flew Lizzie with a curtain which she was going to +shake. + +"Here, here!" shouted the old man, "don't shake that; catch that +caterpillar on it. I want it." + +Lizzie made a good-natured grab at the caterpillar, and then there was a +cry of pain. "Oh, begorra, begorra, I'm stung by a wasp, I am! Ow!" But +she still kept tight hold of the caterpillar as she danced about. + +"No," said the guide, "you're not stung by any wasp. Bring me that! +There, open your hand. You see, the caterpillar stung you." + +"Oh my, what a beauty!" exclaimed the children. "But caterpillars don't +sting." + +"Oh yes, they do," continued Ben Gile, with a twinkle in his eye; "ask +Lizzie." Lizzie was looking at the palm of her hand, which showed how +badly it had been stung. + +"Now, you see, we'll need something to pick up these little creatures +with--a pair of forceps or something of that kind. At least, you must be +very careful." + +"And what else do we need?" asked the children. + +"A little hand lens will magnify the small parts of an insect a great +deal. It will show you all the tiny hairs on the body, and the little +rings and the feelers and the facets of the eyes, and many another +wonderful thing." + +"What are we going to put the bugs in?" inquired Jimmie. + +"Lizzie will get you a small wooden box," said Mrs. Reece. + +Lizzie went off grumbling something about guides and bites and insects, +but soon she came back with a nice box, and in a minute all the +children's heads were clustered about Ben Gile as he showed them how to +line the box with a layer of cork, how to steam the insects a little if +they were dry, and then how to put the long, slender pins through the +chest of the insect and stick it into the cork. + + + + +III + +THE LITTLE ARMY + + +Ben Gile shook his head. As his hair was long and white, and his hands +moved with his head, just as if he were a lot of dried branches moving +in the wind, it was enough to frighten little Betty. "Plagues of Egypt! +Plagues of Egypt!" he kept muttering. Now, Betty had been to school a +long time--I think it must have been as much as two whole years, which +is a very _long_ time for school and a very _short_ time for climbing +trees--now, Betty had been to school and knew better. She crept behind a +big beech-tree, but she stuck her little head out and said, in a +trembling voice: + +"It was locusts, sir, wasn't it--and wild honey?" + +Betty wasn't at all certain that any kind of honey could be a plague. + +"It was locusts, child--yes, you're right," answered the old man. +"Locusts it was; but you eat wild honey." + +Betty came out from behind the tree and whispered, "You eat them +_both_?" + +"So men did in the Bible," said Ben Gile, and washing his sugar-pails, +and putting his maple sugar camp--a very sweet place for a little girl +to be when there are still piles of maple sugar packed away on the +shelves--in order for the summer. + +In all her short life Betty had never known another old man like him. In +the winter he taught school; in spring he made maple sugar; in summer he +was guiding about the ponds or looking up into the trees most of the +time; and in the fall he cut wood before he went back to teaching; but +what was oddest of all to Betty was that he knew the squirrels and deer +and rabbits as well as he seemed to know little girls or little boys. +There was a story told in those woods about his taming even a trout so +that one morning it hopped out of the water and followed him everywhere +he went--hop, hop, flop behind him. And in the evening, as Ben Gile and +his tame trout were passing by the pond again, the trout fell in and was +drowned. But, dear me, that is a fish story, and you mustn't believe any +fish stories whatever except those your father tells! Still, if your +grandpa is fond of fishing, you may believe his fish stories, too. + +[Illustration: +_A._ A locust. +_B._ Cast-off skin of a young locust.] + +Betty came out farther from behind the tree. "Please, sir, do _you_ eat +grasshoppers?" + +"Not yet, my dear." The old man's eyes twinkled. "I knew a little boy +once"--Betty was wondering whether this old man had ever been a little +boy himself--"I knew a little boy once who wasn't afraid to swallow even +a caterpillar, but I think that little boy never thought of eating a +grasshopper." The old man shook his head gravely. "No, not a +grasshopper." + +"Please, sir," said Betty, coming right up to the bucket he was washing +in the brook--"please, sir, do you know any stories about grasshoppers?" + +Ben Gile laid his finger along his nose and thought. Betty was sure he +knew a hundred million stories, and that he could tell her something +about anything she might ask for in all the world. + +"Well, once upon a time," the old man began, "there was another old man +who was a great deal wiser than I am, and a great deal richer, my dear, +for he owned a whole kingdom and lived in a palace, and his name was--" + +"Solomon!" called out Betty, dancing up and down, out of pride in her +own wisdom. + +"Right! And this other old man said: + + "There are four things which are little upon the earth, but + they are exceedingly wise: + + "The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their + meat in the summer; + + "The conies are but a feeble folk, yet make they their houses + in the rocks; + + "The locusts have no king, yet go they forth all of them by + bands; + + "The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in kings' + palaces." + +"But that's not a story." + +The guide shook his head. "You don't know a story, child, when you hear +one. It began, 'Once upon a time,' didn't it?" + +"Yes, sir; but please tell me another." + +"Well, there are others in the Bible, my dear, about locusts and +grasshoppers." + +"But, please, sir," said Betty, who was almost ready to cry, she was so +teased--"please tell me one of your _own_ stories." + +Ben Gile began to swash his bucket up and down, up and down, in the +stream until the water fairly rocked. Then he pulled the bucket out of +the water, set it beside him, and reached out after a locust. + +"Here he is." There was a long pause. Betty thought he would never go +on. "Well, once upon a time there was a little army and all its uniforms +were brown and green, and from the meanest soldier in the ranks to the +lieutenant-commander this little army was made up of insects who +belonged to the same tribe. Let me see--there were the grasshoppers and +the locusts and the katydids and the crickets." + +"Please, sir, were they cousins?" + +"I think they were, my dear. Yes, first cousins, and, unlike even my +first cousins, they all have wings, and straight wings like this." + +The guide gently spread out one of the wings. + +"Just where the back of your chest is these wings grow--two pairs of +wings, my dear, and two pairs of wings mean a good deal more than two +pairs of new shoes. This first pair is straight and narrow and hard, +because it is meant to cover the gauzy wings underneath. Puff!" + +Away flew the locust. + +"You see, he doesn't use his first pair, but holds them out straight +from his body while he spreads out the gauzy ones like a--like a--" + +"Fan!" shouted Betty, quite forgetting the tiny squirrel who had come up +near her, and, at her shout, nearly jumped out of his little red +jacket. + +"A yellow fan," said the old man. "And some have a red fan. Well, I +think," said he, reaching for his pail, "there isn't going to be any +more of this story." + +"Not any more? But there must be more, sir; I've seen hundreds and +hundreds of them on a dusty road, and, please, they're just the color of +the dirt." + +The guide shook his head. "Not to-day." + +By this time Betty was so eager to have him go on that she had forgotten +all about being afraid of him. "And when they whir up from the road, +sir, they say, 'Clack! clack! clack!'" + +The old man made a sound like the noise of a locust. + +"How does it make its mouth move, sir?" + +"It doesn't make its mouth move, child. It makes the noise by striking +the edges of the gauzy wings and hard wing covers together. See, this +way!" And the old man struck his arm and leg together. "It has another +fiddle, too, which it uses when it makes the long, rasping, drowsy sound +of summer days. Then it rubs the rough edges of its hind leg against the +edge of its wing-cover." + +"Please, is it happy, then?" asked Betty. + +"Just as happy as a healthy locust, who lives in long, sweet-smelling +grass and is contented with his own singing, can be, and that is very +happy." + +"Oh!" said Betty, "it doesn't use its mouth, then? Jimmie said it did." + +"Jimmie's a stupid boy. See this fellow." The old man held the locust +toward Betty. "With its upper lip, broad, you see; and there is the +lower lip made in two scallops, and there's a short feeler on either +side, and another pair of soft jaws with a feeler. Hidden away under +those parts is a pair of dark-brown, horny jaws which open like two big +swinging gates." + +"What makes them so big?" + +"The better to eat you with, my dear." The guide worked his jaws until +Betty, half afraid and half pleased, screamed and ran behind a tree. +"Oh, how they can eat!" growled the old man, "more than any little girl +or boy I ever knew! Years and years ago, when your mamma was a baby, +they mounted up into the air from the Rocky Mountains and flew eastward +in a great cloud. Down they swooped upon the fertile valleys in rustling +hordes, and ate everything in sight--grass, grains, vegetables, and +bushes. They ate and ate and ate until they had eaten up fifty million +dollars' worth of food, and the poor farmer could hear nothing but the +sound of the chewing of those ever-swinging jaws. Now, be off, little +girl, or my pails won't be clean." + +"Oh, please, sir, just tell me how they jump and breathe." + +"Dear, dear, see this fellow!" He had wet a little grain of maple sugar, +and a tiny meadow grasshopper which had alighted on his knee was pushing +the sweet stuff into its mouth with both fore legs. "Child, you must +never," said the old man, savagely, "push your food in that way." + +"Please, sir," answered Betty, "I never do, because I eat with my fork +and my knife. Please, sir, are they happy when they jump?" + +"Looks like a horse, doesn't it?" asked the old man. "It's made for +jumping. Think of all the training it takes to make a jumper of your +brother at school. Well, this chap can jump ten times as far. It's born +with a better jump than the longest-legged boy you ever saw. But the +locust might get its head cut off when jumping if it weren't for this +little saddle that covers the soft part of the neck. Mr. Locust can't +always look before he leaps, as a little girl can, and the knife edge of +a blade of grass would cut its head right off if it weren't for this +saddle. See, here are its long leaping-legs, and on the back edge of +these are some spines to keep it from slipping, and the feet are padded +with several soft little cushions that keep it from chin-chopping itself +to pieces when it lands after a long jump. And here, my dear, are little +rest-legs just behind the front legs. With these Mr. Locust hangs on to +a blade of grass when tired--a fine idea, child; every little boy and +girl ought to have some rest-legs like the locust. And the locust has +some extra eyes, too." + +Ben Gile was going so fast now that Betty was listening to him, mouth +open, as he pointed with a blade of grass to one thing after another. + +"You see, the locust has two big eyes, and there in the middle of the +forehead it has three little eyes, and with five eyes there isn't much +it can't see. And here on the body are two tiny shining oval windows. +These are ear-laps, and that, my dear, is the way it hears. And upon the +sides of the body (the thorax--that is, just the chest) and his abdomen +are tiny holes. The air enters through these, and that is the way Mr. +Locust breathes." + +"Oh," said Betty, "then it hasn't got any nose? I thought everything in +the world had a nose." + +"And this little body," the old man went on, "is as strong as a grub +hoe. With it the locust makes holes in fence rails, logs, stumps, and +the earth, and in those holes mother locust lays her eggs. See, those +four spines are for boring holes. With these Mrs. Locust bores a hole in +the ground, and then with these same spines she guides the bundles of +eggs into the hole and covers them up with a gummy stuff. There the eggs +stay until next spring, when, my dear, out comes a little hopper with no +wings, and this little hopper is called a nymph. It grows and splits its +skin, grows and splits its skin, and with its new skin--it has five or +six skins, and leaves all its old clothes hanging around on the +bushes--its wings grow bigger and bigger. At last it flies off just as +its mother and father did a year ago." + +Ben Gile tossed the locust into the air and called out, "Shoo!" clapping +his hands loudly together. Out from the woods came two baby deer, a +wise, gentle old cow; from the cabin came a mother cat and three kittens +and a big black dog; and from the trees scampered down a half a dozen +squirrels. + +"Time for dinner." + +Betty went up to him and whispered something in his ear. The old man +nodded his head solemnly, and the little girl went trotting along the +path to Rangeley Village. + + + + +IV + +FIDDLERS + + +There was the greatest scurrying around in the fields on the edge of the +woods about Ben Gile's cabin. Little girls and boys were flitting hither +and thither with pretty nets and small boxes strapped over their +shoulders. Inside the boxes there seemed to be just as much hopping +about as there was outside. + +By-and-by the guide put his head out of his cabin door and called, "How +many have you?" + +"Oh, lots and lots!" the children answered. + +"Bring them in." And the children trooped into the cabin, which they +thought quite the most wonderful place in the world. Its walls were +lined with books and cases. The books were not only in English, but also +in French, German, Italian, Latin, Greek, and other languages, and the +cases were filled with scores of specimens, the most beautiful +butterflies, moths, beetles, birds, flowers, and rare stones. The floor +of the cabin was covered by different kinds of skins. Besides, there +were telescopes, field-glasses, magnifying-glasses, specimen cases, old +weapons, and a flute. And by the great wide fireplace, in front of which +the guide was cooking biscuits and cookies in a reflector oven, lay +several kittens, the old black dog, Thor, and a dappled fawn which Thor +was licking. + +"Those crickets sound like pop-guns," said the old man, slipping more +cookies into the oven and setting a pan of biscuits on a shelf by the +hearth. + +"Oh, please," said little Hope, "we've got bushels of them!" + +"Now we'll let those cookies bake while we 'tend to the fiddlers. Are +four pans of cookies enough for five children?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"Now, Hope, let me have your bushel box. H'm," he murmured, peeping in, +"all dressed for the party. What color?" + +"Brown, sir." + +"Black, too," said Betty; "and on a few," she added, "there's a stripe +or a weeny spot of color." + +"Oho!" exclaimed the old man, "what have we here?" He took a pale little +creature from Hope's basket. + +"Why, it's white and green tinted," called Jimmie. "That isn't a +cricket." + +"Isn't it? Well, it's a first cousin which lives in the trees and loves +its tree home so much, like the sensible little fellow it is, that it +sings 'Tr-e-e-e, tr-e-e-e,' as fast as it can trill all summer long. But +it is very harmful to the tree, because when egg-laying time comes it +cuts a long slit in the trees in which to lay its eggs. Just a minute!" +The old man shifted the position of the baker, and out came such a good +odor of cookies that all the children sniffed with delight. "Here, +Jack," he said, to a brown little fellow in ragged clothes and bare +feet, "you have a singer in your box." + +"I didn't catch but one," said the lad. + +"Briers aren't good for bare legs, are they? Never mind, your crickets +won't eat one another." + +"Eat one another?" cried the children. + +"Yes, crickets are cannibals, like some other insects, and they +frequently eat a near relation or a friend, as the people in the Fiji +Islands used to do. This is a nice brown little chap, Jack. Do you know +how he makes his music?" + +[Illustration: +_A._ File on wing of cricket. +_B._ Scraper on wing of cricket. +_C._ Mrs. Cricket.] + +"Why, I suppose," said the boy, "he opens his mouth the way Mr. Tucker +does in the church choir, and--" + +There was a shout of laughter from Jimmie, who was sure he knew a great +deal. + +"Well," said the guide to Jim, "then how does it make its music, since +you know?" + +"Not with its mouth." + +"Then how?" + +"I don't know, sir," stammered Jimmie, who found he didn't know as much +as he thought he did. + +"When Mr. Cricket sings," went on the hermit, "it lifts its two wing +covers so that the edges meet like the pointed roof of a house. Then +your little fiddler, Jack, rubs one edge against the other." + +All this time Peter Beech had been waving his hand about, the way +children do in school, and giving big sniffs. + +"Please, sir, the cookies are burning." + +"Bless my soul!" The guide whisked the cookies away. + +"Please, sir," said Jack, "are we going to have something soon?" Jack +did not look as if he had his share of food to eat, for he was as thin +as the fawn which had curled up near him. Jack had twelve brothers and +sisters, and a father who wasn't what he ought to be, so there were +times when there was no food for Jack. + +"Yes, my son," said the guide, kindly, for the old man could guess how +hungry the lad was. "But, first, where do you suppose the crickets and +katydids have their ears?" + +"Near those big eyes," called Peter. + +"No, no, on the joint of the fore leg is a little membrane, which is +just a thinner, tighter place in the skin of the leg. There!" Ben Gile +had the fore leg of Jack's cricket stretched under the magnifying-glass. +The children could see plainly the film of tight skin. "Underneath the +thin, tight skin is a fine nerve which, when the air makes the skin +shake, changes the motion into sound. Mrs. Cricket listens with her fore +leg while Mr. Cricket sings his love-song to her." + +At this the children laughed and laughed, and comical little Peter put +up his leg as if listening. + +"Here, Pete, give me your box. Do you remember what I told you about +Mrs. Locust, Betty, and the way she lays her eggs?" + +"Yes, sir. She has four straight spines at the end of her body, and +after she has bored a hole with her body she guides the eggs in with the +four spines." + +"Good! Well, Mrs. Cricket wears at the end of her body a long spear. See +this cricket of Peter's. Now she bores her hole with this spear and +then guides her eggs carefully into the hole. Why, see here, Pete, what +have you got here?" + +The children gazed eagerly over the old man's shoulder. + +"My, isn't it like velvet!" exclaimed Peter. + +"And isn't it brown!" added Hope. + +"But look at its stumpy front legs!" called Jack, who had forgotten his +empty stomach in the excitement about this little creature, which looked +like a cricket and yet was so different. + +"And its little beads of eyes!" said Betty. + +"Do you know what it is?" No one knew. "Well, it's a mole cricket. You +rarely ever see one because they live underground and bore their way +along just like moles, leaving tiny tracks and nibbling the roots of +tender plants. You see, it doesn't need eyes any more than the mole +does. But it does need those thickened fore legs to do its underground +digging. Now, children, run out into the fields and let your crickets +go. Be careful not to hurt them. We'll have supper, and after supper +we'll catch a katydid." + +Out ran the children. Soon they were setting the long wooden tables +under the trees with delicious trout the boys had caught, with hot +biscuits and jugs of maple syrup, with berries and cookies, with milk +from the old cow, who, contentedly chewing her cud, was looking at them +through the low crotch of a tree, and with little cakes of maple sugar +which the guide had moulded into the shape of hearts. + + + + +V + +HOW KATY DID + + +Never did trout, cookies, and maple sugar disappear so quickly; never +were such appetites; never such laughing, and such interesting stories +told by the guide. + +"Hush!" said Ben Gile. "Do you hear that?" + +"Yes," cried Peter. + +"What is it?" + +"It's a katydid," said Betty, "over there." + +"Listen, children, what does it say?" + +"It says, 'Chic-a-chee, chic-a-chee,' over and over again," answered +Jack. + +"Pooh," interrupted Jimmie, "it says, 'Katy did, Katy didn't!'" + +"It says, 'Katy broke a china plate; yes, she did; no, she didn't,'" +called Betty. + +"Yes, she did; no, she didn't!" the children shouted, merrily, together. + +"Well," said the old man, "anyway, it's all about what Katy did do and +what Katy didn't do. Probably Mr. Katy, like other good husbands in the +world, is singing of the wonderful things Katy did do and the naughty +things she didn't do. That is Mr. Katy's love-song. Ah, he finds Mrs. +Katy very charming--her beautiful wings, her gracefully waving antennæ, +her knowing, shining eyes! Now, listen again. Katydid carries its +musical instrument at the base of its wing cover. On each side is a tiny +membrane and a strong vein. When the wing covers are rubbed together the +membrane speaks, and you hear--" + +"Katy did, Katy didn't!" shouted the children. + +"Do you think you know where they are? Well, take these lanterns"--the +guide had lighted half a dozen--"and find them." + +The children scurried off, certain of a quick victory. In the woods +about the cabin you could hear them shouting: "It's here!" "No, it +isn't!" "Where is it?" + +"A will-o'-the-wisp," murmured the old man; "may they never have a +harder one to find!" + +By-and-by the children came trotting back. They couldn't find the +katydid in any place, and they had looked everywhere. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Eggs of the katydid. +_B._ A katydid. +_C._ Leg, showing katydid's ear. +_D._ Musical instrument at base of wings.] + +"Couldn't? How did you look?" He took one of the lanterns, went to a +near-by tree, and held the lantern close to the leaves. "Here it is! +Why, it's a great fellow!" + +The children trooped into the cabin after him, crowding to look at the +katydid. + +"I thought they were brown," said Hope. + +"So did I," echoed Betty. + +"See, you can't tell this fellow from the leaf, it is such a bright, +fresh green. Woe to the katydid if it were anything but this bright +green! Just think how easily the birds would find them. What nice salad +Katy would make for a young robin!" + +"Do the birds eat katydids?" asked the children, in surprise. + +"Oh yes, and they haven't any stated luncheon or supper time for doing +it. They are very informal. One time is as good as another, and the +oftener the merrier. If Katy doesn't keep very quiet and demure, like +her leafy background, whist! and Father Robin or Mother Bluebird has a +meal for the youngsters." + +"Is that why it doesn't sing by day?" asked Peter. + +"They wait till the birds go to bed, I suppose. See what a comical look +this fellow has, waving its long, fine, silky antennæ about. Probably +it's trying to find out what it is on, looking out for another nice +green leaf to eat. They do a lot of damage eating leaves from the +trees." + +"What's that?" asked Betty, pointing to the edge of a leaf. + +"Well, you have sharp eyes," said the old man. "Mrs. Katydid has laid +her eggs there. See, the eggs are rounded and flattened, and each egg +laps a little over the one in front of it. Once another man saw a row of +katydid eggs laid as neatly as could be on the edge of a clean linen +collar. I'll keep these eggs; then, in the spring, the young ones will +hatch out. They will grow and shed their skins from time to time, just +the way the locusts do. Ah, they leave so many old clothes about that +they need an old clothes man! I wish I could tell you about the katydid +I knew once upon a time who spent her days collecting old clothes, and +how she made a fortune selling them to--" + +Ben Gile paused and sighed deeply. + +"Selling them to what?" shouted the children. + +"I can't tell that to you," replied the old man, shaking his head sadly. +"It's the story of 'How Katy Did.' I have to be very careful, for Mr. +John Burroughs, who is a wiser old man than I am, says I mustn't. Lately +the scientists almost killed one man I know, and a good, clever, useful +man, for telling that story--very savage, very savage." + +The children began to look troubled. "Will Mr. Burroughs hurt us?" +inquired Hope. "My papa would--" + +"No, no, child, you're too small. He likes something big, and he's +especially fond of the Big Stick." + +"Is that what he does his beating with?" Jack's eyes were frightened. + +"He hunts with the Big Stick," answered the guide. "Dear me, where are +we? It's half-past eight, and you children should have been in bed this +time long, long ago. Hurry! Skip! Get the lanterns or we'll all be +scolded." + +And they scampered for the village, the guide driving them before him, +and all the lights waving to and fro like so many crazy fireflies. + + + + +VI + +FISHING + + +Have you ever started off on a bright, cool morning to fish? At the last +it seems as if you would never get started, which, I suppose, is partly +the eagerness to be gone; then you do get off, only to find you've +forgot the can of worms or the salt for the luncheon-basket. + +Jimmie and Betty were prancing on the lawn in front of Turtle Lodge. +Jimmie had his camera over his back and a jointed steel rod done up in a +neat little case in his hands, on his feet long rubber boots. Betty wore +a big straw hat; she carried a little rod like Jim's and a pretty little +knapsack, which held part of the luncheon. They were waiting for Jack +and Ben Gile, who were to go with them to fish a stream that lay far +back from the pond. It was to be a great day's sport. They had a creel +and a rod for Jack; for the guide they needed to take nothing, for he +had the most wonderful collection of rods and flies they had ever seen. + +At last they saw him coming up the hill, Jack with him. Hastily they +kissed Mrs. Reece, and ran shouting and jumping toward the old man and +the boy, Lizzie after them, for they had left half the luncheon on the +grass. "Faith!" she panted, catching up with them, "and what can you be +doing without the victuals, I'd like to know?" + +The guide took part of the bundles and Jack the rest. Off they went +gayly talking and laughing. + +Soon they were following the stream, Jack catching his line and fly in +the alders almost every time he cast. + +Jack was too poor ever to have had any rod except an alder stick cut +beside the stream, a short line and hook, and any worm or grasshopper he +might find. He was wonderfully proud of the rod he held. The children +meant to give it to him at the end of the summer. But Jack did not know +this good news yet. + +Ben Gile led the way, and almost every time he cast his fly there was a +swirl, the end of the slender rod bent, there was a minute of +excitement, and then upon the bank lay a beautiful speckled trout. On, +on, on they went over the cool, green leaves and bright red berries of +the partridge vine, and past raspberries wherever the sun had struck in +through the heavy trees to ripen them. The stream was running more and +more swiftly as they travelled up grade; quick water was growing more +frequent and the pools deeper. + +At last they came to a deep, round pool, and the guide said, "Now, Jim, +you've the first try." + +Jimmie cast his fly, there was a strike, a plunge, and out, out, out ran +Jimmie's line. The boy's face turned quite pale. "What shall I do, sir?" + +"You have a big one," answered Ben, calmly. "If you can play him long +enough we may get him; otherwise he'll get your fly and line. Steady +there, steady; let out a little more line, and now reel in a bit." + +It seemed like hours to Jimmie as he let the line out and reeled it in +again. Really, it was only a few minutes before the guide said: "Seems +to be getting a little tired; bring him in closer. That's it. There!" + +They had no landing-net with them, so at the last moment Ben Gile seized +the line, and out came a two-pound trout. Jimmie's eyes were popping +nearly out of his head, and Betty was jumping about and clapping her +hands. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Front view of dragon-fly nymph. +_B._ Top view of damsel-fly nymph. +_C._ Adult dragon-fly.] + +"Tired?" asked the old man. + +"Some," said the boy. + +"Well, this is the best place we shall find to eat our luncheon. We'll +camp here. Now for the fire! Boys, get the wood and a small strip of +birch bark! Then these two stones will hold the frying-pan. Now for the +fish; we'll keep that big one of yours and I'll mount it for you, if +you'd like me to. We'll eat the little fellows. After luncheon we must +catch more for your mother, Betty, and for Jack to take home with him." + +Soon the frying-pan was hot, and the trout were sizzling and curling up +with the bacon in the pan. Never did a luncheon taste so good as that, +with fried trout and bacon, and hard-boiled eggs, soda biscuits, and a +mammoth apple pie. They listened to the fire crackling; they looked up +into the shining trees; they watched the water beyond the pool go +tumbling downhill. + +Finally the old man said, "It's going to be a clear day to-morrow." + +The children gazed up into the sky. + +At this Ben Gile laughed. "Don't look at the sky, look at your plates." + +Puzzled by this, the children did look at their plates. + +"But there's nothing left to look at," said Jack. + +"That's just it. There's an old saying that people who eat all their +food make a clear day for the morrow. Now," he continued, "I'll smoke my +pipe of peace before we go on. Just look at that fellow darting about +over the pool!" + +"Oh!" cried Betty, "it's a darning-needle, and it will sew up my mouth +and my eyes--oh, oh!" + +"Nonsense, child, that's silly. The dragon-fly is a very useful and a +very harmless fellow. It's a pity that there are so many superstitions +about it." + +"There's another name for it," said Jack--"devil's darning-needle." + +"And in the South the darkies call it the mule-killer, and believe it +has power to bring snakes to life. It's all nonsense. They are not only +harmless to human beings but also very useful, for they eat flies and +mosquitoes at a great rate. Once upon a time I fed a dragon-fly forty +house flies in two hours. And they eat beetles and spiders and +centipedes. And sometimes they eat one another." + +"Like the crickets?" said Betty. + +"Yes, like the crickets. Just see that fellow dart about. The sharpest +sort of angles. There, it has something! It caught that lace-wing in its +leg-basket." + +"Leg-basket!" exclaimed the children. + +"Yes; it draws its six legs together, and makes a sort of basket right +under its head. Then the dragon-fly devours what it catches by these +strong-toothed jaws. It is a hungry fellow, it is." + +The old man puffed away quietly for a few minutes, while the children +watched the darning-needle and hoped Ben Gile would say something soon. + +"Those scientists," he continued, "who are working on flying-machines +could learn a good deal from this fellow. The dragon-fly is made for +flight. A long, slender, tapering body that cuts the air, moved by four +narrow, gauzy wings, and steered by that pointed abdomen. They eat, +mate, and lay their eggs while they are flying. I don't know that they +are still for more than a few seconds." + +"Can you find their eggs?" asked Betty. + +"Yes; their eggs are laid in the water or fastened to the stems of water +plants. See that damsel fly, the slender, smaller, pretty-colored +darning-needle? Well, it goes entirely under water, cuts a slit in the +stem with the sharp end of the abdomen, and lays the eggs in the groove +it has made. And they lay thousands of eggs." + +"When they hatch out, what do they look like?" asked Jack, who grew +daily more interested in the creatures about him, and who, in the years +to come, was destined to be a great scientist. + +"It looks a little like the mother," said Ben Gile, taking out his pipe, +"but not much. It goes through a great many changes before it is really +grown up. All told, the growth takes from a few months to a whole year. +The young one, called a nymph, is an ugly little fellow, dingy black +with six sprawling legs, two staring eyes, and a big lower lip which +covers up its cruel face like a mask. It is a true ogre, lurking under +stones and in rubbish at the bottom of the pond seeking whom it may +devour. It eats the smaller and weaker nymphs." + +"Oh," said Betty, studying the picture the guide had drawn, "what an +ugly, ugly fellow!" + +"It changes its skin a good many times, and sometimes it looks a little +better while the skin is still clean and light gray. But it soon turns +dingy again. See these three little leaf-shaped gills I've drawn?" + +"They are like the screw on a steamer," commented Jimmie. + +"They are, a little. Well, this chap uses these gills for the same +purpose as the steamer uses its screw--to scull through the water." + +"What happens when it changes?" asked Jack. + +"After the nymph has its full growth, some sunny morning soon after +daylight, it makes its way up out of the water on to a stem and waits +quietly for the old dark skin to split. Then out crawls a soft-skinned +creature with gauzy wings. But the body is so moist and weak it has to +wait awhile for the warm sunshine to harden the skin and strengthen the +muscle. When this is done the new dragon-fly, with its glistening body, +flies out from the pond in the bright, warm light." + +"Then does it live forever?" asked Betty. + +"No; it dies after twenty-five to forty-five days of its flight. Here, +Jack, catch that fellow!" + +There was a wild scramble, but every time Jack just missed the +dragon-fly. Finally Betty lent him her broad hat, and at last Jack +caught the insect. + +"Gee! aren't its eyes big?" + +"And beautiful, too," said the guide. "They are made up of thousands of +facets (a facet is just a small, plain surface) as many as thirty +thousand facets in one eye. Some look up, some look down, some look out, +some look in; so that there is nothing that escapes the sight of this +hawk of the air. Look at the wings on this fellow, and look at the +picture I drew for you of the nymph. Well, this fellow's wings begin in +the nymph as tiny sacs, or pads, made by the pushing out of the wall of +the body. Running all through between the two layers of the wing are +thickened lines of chitin, which divide and subdivide, forming this fine +network. In the new wing, protected by these thickenings, are air-tubes, +which divide and branch into all parts of the wing. But as the wing +reaches its full growth most of the air-tubes die." The guide paused. +"We are talking too much and fishing too little. Time to go on. Put out +the fire, boys. Be sure that it's out. Run water all around it. Now +we're off!" And up, up, up the brook they went. + + + + +VII + +THE SWIMMING-POOL + + +Two or three days after the fishing expedition the boys had gathered +together at the swimming-pool, Ben Gile with them. They had been racing, +and climbing trees, and were very warm. "Come, boys," said the guide, +"let's sit down a minute before you go into the water. It won't do to +bathe when you're too warm. Look round on the stones under the water and +see what you can find." + +"Look at this," called Peter; "it's just like a sponge." + +"It is a fresh-water sponge." + +"I didn't suppose sponges grew in these parts at all," said Jimmie. + +"Oh yes, there are many of them in the ponds." + +"See this, sir," shouted Jack; "what funny little legs it has!" + +"That's a May-fly or shad-fly nymph. He was hiding carefully under that +stone and keeping out of the way of the dragon-fly nymph, who would so +gladly gobble him up." + +"It's prettier," said Jimmie, "than that dragon-fly nymph you drew a +picture of." + +"So it is. See, here on each side of its body are these fine little +gill-plates, moving, moving, moving, so that they may get as much fresh +air as possible out of the water. Each gill-plate is a tiny sac, and +within these are the fine branches of the air-tubes. It's wonderful the +way these creatures breathe." + +"Don't they breathe just the way we do?" asked Jack. + +"No; throughout the body of an insect is a system of tiny white tubes. +Some day we'll look at these tubes under the microscope, and you will +see that they are made up of rings. From end to end of the tube is a +fine thread of chitin twisted in a close spiral like a spring. It is +these little coils which look like rings. The coiled thread holds the +little tube open so that the air may pass readily. But your little +fellow, Jack, cannot have pores on the sides of the body like the last +nymph. It lives under water, and the water would get into its tubes; +instead, it has tracheal gills." + +[Illustration: +_A._ May-fly. +_B._ Nymph of May-fly.] + +"That's a pretty big word," said Peter, looking up at the guide. He was +growing impatient, and wished to begin the swim. If he had known what +that swim was to mean to him, probably he would not have been so +anxious. + +"They aren't so hard to understand; they are just little oval sacs, +inside of which is a limb of the air tube divided into tiny branches. +The fresh air in the water passes through the thin wall of the gill and +is taken by the air-tubes to all parts of the body, while the impure air +passes out in the water. This is all that breathing means in any +creature--a changing of impure for pure air." + +"Then that is what my nymph is doing," asked Jack, "when it wiggles its +gills so?" + +"Just that. Your May-fly nymph, Jack, hatched from a tiny egg first. But +it grows rapidly, and splits and sheds its skin sometimes as often as +twenty times. During the last few months wings appear, which grow a +little larger with each shedding of the skin. Finally, after three +years--sometimes three years spent in growing and hiding away from its +enemies--the little nymph floats up to the surface of the water. In a +few minutes the old skin splits along the back, and from it flies forth +a frail little May-fly. Its body is very soft and delicate. Its four +wings are of a gauzy texture. At the tip of the body are two long, fine +hairs. Its jaws are small and weak, but the life of this little creature +is so short that it never eats. Up it flies into the air with thousands +of its brothers and sisters, whirls in a mad dance for a few hours, then +falls exhausted to the ground to die. + +"Well, now I think we'd better go into the water," ended the guide. "You +boys can go in just as you are." For three little boys had been sitting +undressed in the bright sunshine. "Good for their pores," Ben Gile had +told them, which is all very true. + +Soon there was the greatest splashing and paddling and shouts of, "My +goodness, isn't the water cold!" "Can you swim this way?" "How far can +you go, anyway?" + +Jimmie and the guide were swimming around near the shore when suddenly, +two hundred feet ahead of them, they saw Peter disappear in what they +supposed was shallow water. Jack was half-way the distance between the +guide and Peter. It did not take him an instant to realize what had +happened. But before he could get to the place where Peter had gone +down, the lad had come up, struggled, and gone down again. As he came +up once more Jack caught him by his curly hair, turned over on his back, +holding Peter's head high out of the water, and swam calmly for the +shallow place. Once there, the old man took Peter in his arms and +hurried to shore, where they rolled him until they had the water out of +him. Not a word was said, and modest, quiet Jack did not seem to think +that he had been brave. + +When Peter opened his eyes he said, "Guess my pores weren't in the right +place." + + + + +VIII + +THE RAINY DAY + + +It was a rainy day. Poor Betty flattened her little nose against the +window-panes of Turtle Lodge a dozen times. But outside all she could +see were just the long, straight lines of the down-coming rain and an +empty road leading downhill to the edge of the pond; all she could hear +was the drum of the water upon the roof. Inside, Jimmie was developing +films in his laboratory, and was not in the least interested in what +Betty might be doing. + +"Oh, mother," called Betty, "I am so tired; there isn't anything to do!" + +"Why don't you sew on a dress for Belinda?" asked Mrs. Reece. + +"Belinda has too many clothes; she has more than I have, mother, and +she's a naughty dolly to-day." + +"Well, let me see--get Lizzie to let you make cake." + +"Lizzie's cross, and I'm afraid to. I wish the guide were here. He's +never cross, and never too busy to tell you something that's +interesting." Betty looked out of the window. "He's coming now! Goody! +Goody!" + +When old Ben Gile reached the steps there was a little girl dancing +inside the door and still shouting "Goody!" + +"What's this?" + +"You'll tell me a story, won't you?" + +"Tell you a story! Dear, dear, I never knew such a little greedy for +stories. I've brought you something." + +Betty's face was shining now. She had forgotten the rain, the dreary +day, cross Lizzie, and everything. Ben Gile took a box out of his +pocket. "What is it?" she asked. + +"I have a box full of little elves for you." + +"Elves!" exclaimed Betty. + +"Yes, little elves, little brownies." + +"Come into the study, where there is a fire." Mrs. Reece led the way. +"Then you can tell us all about these elves." They sat down around the +fire, and Mrs. Reece continued, "Don't you think it would be fun to pop +corn while we're hearing about the brownies?" + +Betty was delighted, and ran for a corn-popper, and soon there was the +merry sound of crackling wood, popping corn, and happy voices--all +sounds that proved so tempting that before long Jimmie joined the +others. + +"My little elf is a bug," began the hermit. + +"A _bug_ an elf?" + +"Yes, a bug; and when he doesn't look like an elf, he looks like a king +with a high crown on his head or a naughty boy with a dunce cap." + +"Let's see him, please," said Betty. + +The old man opened his box. Inside lay a lot of little creatures with +backs like beechnuts. "See, look through the lens!" + +Betty laughed. "Oh, aren't they funny! The eyes are so big and so far +apart." + +"And the lines on their heads make them look as if they were gazing +through heavy-bowed spectacles," said Mrs. Reece. + +"There is a very wise man, and his name is Mr. Comstock, who says that +Nature must have been in a joking mood when she made these little tree +and leaf hoppers, they are so impish and knowing-looking. Ah, they are +the naughty brownies of the insect world!" + +"Betty, Betty," called Mrs. Reece, "your popcorn is burning!" + +[Illustration: Tree and Leaf Hoppers] + +"Mother, I don't care to pop any more; let me just listen now. What +makes them bad?" + +"Well, they are born with a naughty desire to suck everything they can +get their tiny sucking beaks upon. They hop around in great numbers on +the fruit trees and pierce the leaves with their sharp beaks. Then, with +a tubelike lower lip, they suck up the sap. They also make slits in the +twigs in which to lay their eggs. In the following spring the eggs +hatch, and there is a fresh supply of tree-hoppers ready to begin the +mischief their parents left off only when they died." + +"And what is the difference between the leaf-hoppers and the +tree-hoppers?" asked Mr. Reece. + +"Not much. They are cousins--cousins in naughtiness. The leaf-hoppers +are a great nuisance. Every year they destroy from one-fourth to +one-fifth of the grass that springs up. They also suck the sap of the +rose, the grape-vine, and of many grains. These sturdy fellows live +during the winter by hiding under the rubbish in the fields and +vineyards, ready when the warm spring does come to begin their naughty +work." + +"What makes a little fellow like this able to do so much damage?" asked +Jimmie, who had come in, his hands all stained with chemicals. + +"Well, it is well covered by this horny substance called chitin, and +then it is very active. You see, the chitin acts both as armor-plate for +the soft parts and also as a firm support to the many muscles. As many +as two thousand separate, tiny muscles have been counted in a certain +caterpillar. That shows how very active insects are." + +"And they all have such big eyes they can see everything," said Betty. + +"So they have--bigger eyes than the old wolf of the story had." + +"You remember, I told you about the thousands of facets in the big eyes +of the darning-needle? Not contented with these large eyes, most insects +have three small eyes arranged in the form of a triangle on the front of +the head." + +"This bug has feelers, too," said Jimmie. + +"So it has. Insects use these feelers, or antennæ, for all sorts of +purposes--some for touch, some for smell, some for hearing. Ants +exchange greetings by touching antennæ, and recognize a friend or an +enemy by the odor. The antennæ of a male mosquito are covered with fine +hairs. When Mrs. Mosquito sings, all the tiny hairs on Mr. Mosquito's +feelers are set in motion, and he becomes aware of Mrs. Mosquito." + +Mrs. Reece laughed. "That's a new kind of romance!" + +"Mother, what's a romance?" asked Betty. + +"You'll know, dear, in time." + +"Notice this imp's mouth," said the guide. "It's made for sucking. But +there's a great difference in the mouths of insects: some are made for +biting, some for lapping, some for piercing, and some for sucking. The +butterfly, which lives on nectar in the depths of the flowers, has a +long, coiled tube which scientists call a proboscis. This it unrolls and +buries in the throat of the flower. Mrs. Mosquito has a file and pump, +for it is she, and not her husband, who does all the singing and biting. +The male mosquito has nothing more than a mouth for sucking nectar. And +I told you about the biting jaws of the locust with which it nibbles +grass and leaves." + +"And does the tree-hopper breathe the way the locust does--through those +pores on the side?" + +"Yes, child," said the old man, "and the air-pores are protected by fine +hairs which surround the openings, just the way the hairs in your +nostrils keep the dust from getting up your nose and into your throat." + +"Things in the bugs," said Betty, "are so like us." + +"The world becomes more and more like one great whole as you grow +older," added Ben Gile. "Those are interesting elves I've been telling +you about, aren't they?" + +"I didn't know bug elves could be so interesting." + +"Now run and get us some of the fresh cake Lizzie has been baking," said +Mrs. Reece. "I hope it will taste as good as it smells." + + + + +IX + +THE PRIZE + + +There were two canoes going up the little river which led out from the +pond. In the first were Ben Gile with Betty, Hope, and Jack. In the +second Jimmie and Peter paddled Mrs. Reece. They had trout rods, +although they did not plan to fish very much, and well-filled +luncheon-baskets, magnifying-glasses, cameras, boxes, and various other +things. + +In two weeks they were to go on a camping expedition, and to-day's trip +was taken chiefly to find a good place for the first night's stop. + +The children were all excitement about the camping, which was to be the +last jollity of their happy summer, and they asked so many questions +about what they were to take with them, and they asked the same +questions over so many times, that at last Mrs. Reece put her hands on +her ears and called to the guide, who was paddling vigorously ahead. + +"Well," he called back, "a frying-pan and an axe, and perhaps a tent." +He allowed his canoe to drop nearer Mrs. Reece's. "What naughty children +you are," he continued, "to bother the life out of your poor mother! I +know of some other children, too, who are very naughty. I see one flying +now." + +"That pretty little thing," exclaimed Betty, "with the gauzy wings?" + +"Yes, that pretty little thing; its wings have many, many veins. When +Lace-Wing is a baby and is called a larva, it does not look like this, +for its jaws are strong and very sharp. After it has eaten and grown for +some time it makes a house for itself, where it rolls up for a nap. +While it is lying very still in this little house many things are +happening." + +"What happens?" asked Jack. + +"Well, it is changing from a baby to a grown-up, and while it is growing +up into an insect it is called a pupa. Don't mistake this for papa--it +does not look like your papa at all." + +Betty thought this was very funny, because her father was a great big +man over six feet tall. + +"After its wings are made and it looks just like its mamma, Lace-Wing +crawls out of its house and flies away." + +[Illustration: Pit of the Ant-Lion] + +"Has it any cousins, like the locust?" asked Betty. + +"Yes, it has cousins; the ant-lion and caddis-fly both belong to this +family. But little Lace-Wing, with its beautiful green body, gauzy +wings, and golden eyes, is the most graceful member of the family." + +"How do they live when they are babies?" asked Hope. + +"When they are babies," said Ben Gile, opening his eyes wide and +speaking in a loud, deep voice, "they go about like lions seeking whom +they may devour." + +Betty was frightened. + +"No, no, child," said Mrs. Reece, "not a real lion." + +"Just an aphis-lion," explained the guide, his eyes twinkling. "They are +called aphis-lions because they are very cruel to the little green +plant-lice I told you about. You remember, the plant-lice live on +plants, and with their sucking beaks pump the sap from the plants. The +aphis-lions crawling over the plants come across the little aphid. Quick +as a wink they stick their sharp claws in the soft body of the +plant-louse and drink the blood with their sharp-pointed jaws. They are +very fond of eggs, too, and Mamma Lace-Wing is careful of her eggs, +because she knows the mischievous ways of her children." + +"What does Mamma Lace-Wing do with her eggs?" inquired Mrs. Reece. + +"Each egg which she lays has a tiny stem, and the stems are fastened to +a leaf or twig. When the babies hatch out they crawl down onto the leaf +and hunt around for something to eat. Perhaps if they knew more they +would crawl up the little egg stems and eat their own brothers and +sisters." + +"Oh, what cannibals!" cried Betty. + +"Yes, it is not pleasant, this Fiji Island of the insects, but it is +their nature." + +"They do seek their meat from God," murmured Mrs. Reece. + +"Yes, it is a mystery," answered the old man. "But, dear me, I have +forgotten my story. Well, in about ten days they find a nicely sheltered +spot and spin a little silken cocoon about themselves. In this they stay +for a couple of weeks, while they are changing into grown-up lace-wings. +When they are finished they cut a round door in their silken house, +spread their gauzy wings, stretch their delicate green bodies, rub their +eyes in wonder at the sunny world, and fly away to lay some little eggs +on slender stems just like those which their mothers laid and from +which they came." + +"See," said Jimmie, "what a place for camping!" + +"But it is too near home," objected Peter. "We could get here in two +hours." + +"So we could," admitted Jimmie. + +"Tell us something about the cousins, sir," said Jack. + +"We can't have much more now," replied the guide, "for we shall have to +stop for luncheon soon. But I'll tell you about a little fellow called +the ant-lion. Along the side of almost any country path or road, if you +keep your eyes open, you may notice some day little pits of sand with +sloping sides, and down at the bottom of this is a hole. The hole is +very dark, and unless you look sharply you will think it just a hole. +But if you examine it you will see a little head and two little sharp, +curved jaws. These are the jaws of the ant-lion, lying in wait to gobble +up the first passer-by. The rest of the body is in a little tunnel +burrowed out in the sand. They get their name, I suppose, because they +think an ant an excellent dinner. They lie there knowing very well that +Mr. and Mrs. Ant will surely slip on the steep-sloping sides. And if by +any chance they don't, these ant-lions have been seen to throw up sand +with their heads in order to hit a helpless little ant and knock it down +into the pit." + +The children exclaimed at this cleverness. + +"After it has eaten its fill, this cruel, greedy fellow makes a little +room for itself of fine grains of sand firmly held together with silky +fibres. In this room it lies quietly, sometimes all winter, until it +changes into a grown-up ant-lion with four long, narrow wings. Then Mrs. +Ant-Lion lays her eggs in the sand, and when the young ones hatch out +they build the 'pits of destruction' which I told you about. What book +is it, children, that uses the 'pit of destruction' so often as a +figure?" + +"The Bible!" shouted Peter, who was the minister's son in Rangeley +Village. + +"Good! Now, no more for the present, and here we are at a splendid place +for luncheon--clear spring, dry ground, handy wood, and all." + +The canoe beached noiselessly on the river's edge, the boys jumped out +with a whoop, and soon luncheon and frying-pans were out of the canoes, +and there was the sound of the axe chopping the dry wood, the good smell +of smoke, and the sizzling of bacon. Betty and Hope went for water. The +boys fetched wood. Mrs. Reece and the guide took care of the luncheon, +Mrs. Reece spreading the table on the ground, and the guide frying the +potatoes and bacon. + +"Oh, mother," said Jimmie, "what does make things taste so good +out-of-doors?" + +"I'm sure I don't know." + +"And, mother," asked Betty, "what does make everything so pretty?" + +"You ask mother a hard question." + +"And oh, Mrs. Reece," exclaimed Jack, his thin, eager face shining with +excitement, "everything in the world is so wonderful!" + +"It's all so different in the winter," said Peter, in between bites of +bread-and-butter. "It isn't half so nice, but I suppose it would be +lovely if we could have you and Mr. Gile--" + +"You dear child!" + +"It is about three miles above here," the guide spoke, "on the last of +the Dead River Ponds, where we shall find our first camping ground. I +want you to look at it." + +"And we'll be gone days and days." + +"Goody! goody!" called Betty, clapping her hands. "And we'll sleep +out-of-doors, cook out-of-doors, and do everything out-of-doors." + +Every one smiled with her, for there was not a person there who was not +looking forward with happiness to this trip. + +"Before we start on I'll smoke my pipe," said the old man. + +"Then, please, sir, won't you tell us something else?" asked Betty. + +"Why, I have nothing left in my head, you child." + +"Oh, please, sir, you said there was another cousin called the +caddis-worm." + +"So I did," said the old man. "Fetch me that stone, Jack." He pointed to +a stone lying in the water. Jack brought it to him, and he broke +something off from it. "What's that?" + +"That's a stick," answered Betty. + +"No, that's not a stick, that's a caddis-worm. This little fellow, +unlike some spoiled children I know, has to find its own dinner, change +its own clothes, tuck itself into bed, and build its own house. And it +is brighter than some children I know," said the old man, looking kindly +at Peter. "The caddis-worm builds itself different kinds of houses. Some +of the houses are shaped like the horns you blow on the Fourth of July, +and one kind of house is made of the finest sand, fastened together with +bands of finest silk, which the caddis spins. Our caddis-worm has +patience," said the old man, shaking his head and looking at +Jimmie--"patience, plenty of patience." He puffed away at his pipe for a +few seconds. "Some build rougher houses, choosing small pebbles instead +of sand. Of these it builds a long tube. Others make a little green +summer cottage with twigs, grasses, and pine-needles, from which they +build an attractive bungalow by laying down four pieces and crossing the +ends like this: # These cottages are built about an inch long, and in +them the young caddis-worms have a cool and cosey summer home. Often +these little houses have silken hangings inside. The little owners +fasten the hooks at the ends of their bodies to these and moor +themselves securely." + +"What do you call it a worm for?" asked Mrs. Reece. + +"Well, it looks a little like a worm. It has a long, slender body, but +it has six jointed legs, which real worms don't have. See this fellow!" +Ben Gile pulled the worm out of its case. + +"Oh, see! part of the body is so pale and soft!" + +"That, child, is because it is always covered by the little house. The +front end and the legs, however, are darker. That's sunburn, I suppose." + +"When young Master Caddis-Worm goes out for a swim or a walk it pushes +its six legs out-of-doors, and walks along, carrying its house with it. +Very convenient, you see! No doors to lock! And if it gets tired it does +not have to walk home; it just walks in and goes to sleep under a nice, +smooth stone. Some roam about and some stay at home. These creatures are +pretty much like human beings in their ways. + +"One of the young caddis-worms prefers fishing to walking, like some +other young fellows I know. On a stone near its house it spins a fine +web, turned up-stream, so that any tender little insects floating +down-stream get lodged in it. An easy way to get your dinner--just to go +to a net and eat." + +The guide paused for a long time, clouds of smoke circling about his +white beard and white hair. The children thought he would never go on. +"I've had something on my mind for days," he said, "and I'll speak of it +now. The boy or girl who learns most about the ants before September +15th shall win a prize. This prize is to be a magnifying-glass, a book +of colored plates of the insects, very beautiful and very big, and a +five-dollar gold piece." + +"A prize, a prize!" shouted the children, jumping madly about, while +Mrs. Reece and the guide smiled at each other. + +"Now we've had our dinner, our rest, our pipe of peace, a plan for a +prize, and we must push on for the camping-ground. Get the canoes +ready." + +And, with laughter and talking, the canoes were off up the river again. + + + + +X + +A NAGGING FAMILY + + +"Do you know of a family around here whom no one likes?" asked Ben Gile. + +The lanterns were burning brightly out on the lawn of Turtle Lodge, and +Mrs. Reece had just stopped playing so that the children might rest from +dancing. All the lanterns moved gently to and fro on the piazza; the +children were running about, and everybody seemed to be having a +beautiful and breathless time. "Do you know of a family around here," +called the guide, "whom nobody likes?" + +"I do," replied Mrs. Reece, laughing and slapping the side of her face. +"They are just like some people, nagging, annoying, and numerous." + +"Do any children here," called Ben Gile, for the third time, "know of a +family nobody likes? For the child who guesses I have a pocket-knife." + +"The Smiths!" shouted Peter. "My father says Mrs. Smith is always +quarrelling with the choir." + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Reece, seeing danger ahead. "Ben means a family right +here on the piazza." + +The children looked at one another, and then Jack turned shrewdly to the +guide. "I guess, sir, it is mosquitoes and flies." + +"Good boy, and here's the knife." + +Jack thought he had never seen such a wonderful knife. It had three +blades, a corkscrew, a file, and a pair of scissors, and to this day +Jack has that knife. + +"Come," said Mrs. Reece, "let us all sit down for a few minutes while +Lizzie is getting supper ready inside." + +"How many wings," asked Mrs. Reece, "has a fly?" + +"Four," answered Jimmie. + +"No," corrected the guide; "a real fly has only two wings. In the place +of the second pair they have queer little knobbed rods which are called +balancers--something like the out-riggers on your scull, Jim. These +steer and steady the fly's body." + +"What makes a fly bite?" asked Hope. + +"They do not bite, child. A beetle or a grasshopper can really bite, +because beetles and grasshoppers have heavy, horny jaws, toothed on the +edge, with which to do it. But a fly has fine, sharp-pointed jaws. With +these needlelike jaws they pierce a hole in the skin, then with a tiny +sucking-beak, made by the rolled lower lip, they draw up the blood +through this opening." + +"I wonder whether any little girl here knows why flies should not be +allowed in the house?" asked Mrs. Reece. No little girl did know +anything except that their mothers were always driving flies out, and +that these creatures buzzed and were a nuisance. "Do tell them," said +Mrs. Reece. + +[Illustration: +_A._ House-fly. +_B._ A grown-up mosquito, two larvæ, and a pupa.] + +"Well," said the guide, "the fly is such a little acrobat it can crawl +up the steepest and most slippery wall and walk upside down or right +side up with the greatest ease. Perhaps some day you can make a fly keep +still long enough so that you can look at its foot. At the end of the +foot are two little round pads thickly covered with downy hair. On each +side are two sharp claws and many stiff, clinging hairs. With this +flattened foot it can go wherever it wishes. + +"But this same little foot is the chief reason why a fly should never be +allowed in the house, for flies crawl into all sorts of dirty places, +and the fine hairs catch and hold the dirt. When the fly lights on us +or on the table, some of the pieces of dirt are shaken off." + +"But they are so hard to catch," said Betty; "it takes Lizzie forever +and forever to get them out of the dining-room in the morning." + +"I know why they are hard to catch," added Jack, "for I've looked at a +dead fly. They have such big eyes, like lighthouses, they can see all +around." + +"Yes," said Ben Gile; "there is no such thing as creeping up on a fly +unawares. Flies are dirty creatures," continued the old man, "and the +time is not very far distant when people will make war on them just as +they do on mosquitoes. Mrs. Fly lays her eggs in unclean places, and as +many as a hundred eggs at a time. These eggs hatch out quickly. It takes +only twenty-one days to make a chicken out of an egg, but to make a baby +fly it takes only a few hours, and ugly babies they are--little white +maggots, or worms, that live and feed and grow rapidly in dirty places. +Within six days the maggot becomes a tiny, dark-brown pupa, and after +five days the pupa hatches out into a grown-up fly." + +A dozen little girls at the party made up their minds promptly that +after this evening they, at least, would make war on flies. + +"And aren't flies of any use?" asked Betty. + +"There is one little fly, Mrs. Tachina-Fly, who is of some use. She is a +cousin of the house-fly. She is of use because she chooses a queer place +to lay her eggs--on the back of a young caterpillar. After these +caterpillars grow and shut themselves up into a cocoon to change into a +butterfly the little fly eggs hatch out into maggots. Of course they are +hungry--all babies are; and finding the nice, fat caterpillar in the +round house, like dutiful babies they eat what is set before them until +the fat, tender caterpillar is eaten up. After they are satisfied they +lie still in their brown skins and change into grown-up tachina-flies, +and at last out come a lot of busy, _buzzing_, bothersome flies. It is +rather hard on the caterpillar. But when we think what harmful, greedy +things most caterpillars are, perhaps it is good that there are +tachina-flies to eat them. Is it time for supper yet?" + +"No, not yet," replied Mrs. Reece. "Do tell the children something about +mosquitoes." + +"If I had to choose between Mr. and Mrs. Mosquito, I should take Mr. +Mosquito, for he neither bites nor buzzes, but attends strictly to his +own business. Perhaps he thinks Mrs. Mosquito's voice pretty. Perhaps he +likes to hear about her adventures. But most people do not, for they +think Mrs. Mosquito a busybody, always going where she is not wished, +always breaking up conversations, and always coming back after she has +been plainly told that she is not wanted. Yet her singing is music in +the ears of her husband. Perhaps if we had long, slender antennæ, all +covered with hairs, like his, we, too, might like her song. When she +sings these hairs begin to tremble, to vibrate, and a little nerve in +the antennæ changes this trembling to sound. + +"In every way Mr. Mosquito seems a more pleasant body. He eats very +little, and contents himself with nectar. But she, knowing that +excitement makes the blood flow faster, and being a hearty eater, begins +her song gently at first, then louder and louder, nearer and nearer. +Finally, with her long, slender, sharp stylets, she makes a hole in your +cheek or your arm, pushes in her sucking-beak, and pumps up the blood. +And there she sucks and sucks until her stomach is full or she is +brushed off or killed." + +"Where do mosquitoes lay eggs?" asked Jack, who was certain that +everything in the insect world did lay eggs, as indeed everything does. + +"In the water; any puddle will do. When the eggs hatch out they are +funny-looking fellows, long, tapering bodies with a big head end. At the +other end are two little prongs. This baby, like some other babies, is +never quiet, but squirms and wriggles so that it is called a wriggler. +Upon its thick head are two little tufts of hair. These it waves every +moment, so that all the food which comes its way will go into its hungry +little mouth. One of the prongs at the other end of the body is an +air-tube, so that the baby mosquito has to stand on its head to breathe. +It hangs head downward, and holds its air-tube above the surface of the +water. + +"When people pour kerosene upon the water the wriggler cannot get any +air to breathe, and therefore dies. Within a few days the wriggler +changes its skin three times; after the third change it looks very +different, and is called a pupa. Now, instead of having an air-tube at +the end, it has two on the back of the thorax. At the tail end are two +flaps to help it swim. Even the pupa is never still a minute, but holds +its air-tubes above the water's surface. + +"When anything comes to disturb it, it uses its flaps and swims safely +to the bottom of the pool. At the end of two days out of the pupa skin +comes a grown-up mosquito. If it is a Mrs. Mosquito, she promptly begins +to bite people and to carry about fevers or malaria from person to +person. The bite of a mosquito may sometimes be as dangerous as the bite +of a rattlesnake." + +The children had been slapping the mosquitoes buzzing about on the +_piazza_. "And now," said the guide, "before we go into supper, I will +tell you a real and a true story. Mosquitoes sometimes carry sickness +from one person to another until it spreads throughout a large city. We +didn't realize how dangerous mosquitoes were till a short time ago. +People had malaria, and were very ill with it. In some countries many +died. Every one thought, however, that the malaria came in some +mysterious way from the mists of the low-lying swamps and marshes. But +one day some one happened to think it might not be in the marshes, after +all; rather that it might be a certain little two-winged insect with a +short, piercing instrument, which spent its babyhood days in these same +marshes. + +"And so two English doctors determined to find out the truth of the +matter. In the faraway land of Italy was a place where thousands of +people were suffering from this disease. There these doctors went and +built a comfortable little house in the very worst place they could +find. They were careful to screen every door and window, and to leave +not a crack for a mosquito to crawl in. + +"There they lived, always going into the house at sundown, shutting all +the screen doors, but allowing the damp night air to pour in. It was +this night air which every one supposed gave people malaria. But the two +physicians in the snug little house, free from mosquitoes, kept well, +strong, and happy, although the people outside in the other houses were +very ill and suffering with chills and fever. + +"You see, these little Anopheles, for that is their name, bite some one +ill with malaria. Perhaps the next person they stab with their sharp +needle is well. In this way they leave some of the poisoned blood in the +wound. There is another illness which is a hundred times worse than +malaria. This is called yellow fever. In some countries thousands of +people died from this every year, and doctors did not know just how it +was carried from place to place. + +"Our Government appointed a commission to study the matter. Dr. Walter +Reed, a surgeon of the United States Army, with three assistants, went +to Havana and built a house, carefully screened, just like that of the +English physicians in Italy. People thought that the fever was carried +in the clothes and on the sheets of those who were ill. To prove that +this was not so, these men wore the clothes of sick people, and even +slept on the sheets taken from the sickbed. They did this disagreeable +thing for twenty days, keeping the little house very warm, and shutting +out the fresh air and sunshine. But in spite of all these things the men +continued well and strong. + +"They wanted to prove even more surely that it was a certain kind of +mosquito which really did the harm. So they built another house. +Everything in this house was pure and clean. The rooms were flooded with +fresh air and sunshine. Half of the house was carefully screened and +shut off from the other half. The men in the half that was screened kept +perfectly well. Those in the other half let themselves be bitten by +mosquitoes which had been in the houses where there was yellow fever. +All became dangerously ill with the fever. Two of these brave physicians +died of the fever while trying to find the cause, in order that they +might save the lives of thousands of people." + +"That is modern heroism," said Mrs. Reece, "and service of the highest +sort. All humanity is indebted to those brave men. There is no doubt but +that our Panama Canal could not be in progress to-day were it not for +the extermination of the mosquito in the canal zone. Since we can never +tell where a mosquito has been, or what kind of a mosquito it is, I +suppose it is best to keep mosquitoes from biting, and always to keep +them out of the house. And now, children, supper is ready, and after +that games. Let us go to the dining-room!" + + + + +XI + +CAMPING OUT + + +At last the day, expected all summer long, had come. The children, Hope +and Betty, Jack, Peter, and Jimmy, Mrs. Reece and Ben Gile, were +gathered on the edge of the pond, their packs in the canoes, their +paddles at bow and stern. Other guides had taken the food and tents +ahead the day before. Their friends had gathered to bid them good-bye, +and finally, amid the farewells, they were off, Jimmie in a canoe by +himself, Jack and Peter paddling Mrs. Reece, and Ben Gile with the two +little girls. Everybody was so excited that all talked at once, and +nobody could hear any one else. Hope and Betty had never been camping +before, and the boys meant to show the girls all the wonders of sleeping +and eating out in the woods. + +Finally they came to a "carry"--that is, a path leading from one lake to +another, across which the food and canoes have to be lugged. The girls +and Mrs. Reece carried the packs and food over, making several trips in +order to do so; and the boys and the guide, crossing their paddles under +the thwarts of the canoes and raising the blades on their shoulders, +balanced the canoes and trotted swiftly over the carry. Nothing seemed +any trouble that glorious, beautiful day--nothing too heavy, nothing too +hard. Betty and Hope could have skipped over every inch of the trail, +and they were quite sure that they could have done all the paddling, +too. And Betty did learn, in after years, not only to paddle, but also +to carry her own canoe, for she grew to be a big, strong, athletic girl, +with rosy cheeks and a quick, sure step. + +Hour after hour they went from one pond to another. The ponds were +larger and wilder at each crossing, and already they were in a +wilderness of woods and lakes, and heard the whistle of the hawk, the +scream of the lonely eagle, and the crazy cries of the loon. Every once +in a while a big heron mounted lazily upward and flew off solemnly to a +place where his peace need not be disturbed. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Moth. +_B._ Caterpillar. +_C._ Side view of head of moth. +_D._ and _E._ Scales from the wing of a butterfly.] + +Although Hope and Peter and Jack lived all the year around in Rangeley +Village, yet they had never been so far away from home before, and to +them it seemed very wonderful. Even in the midst of it all, however, +Jack did not forget the prize Ben Gile had offered. He hurried over +carry after carry, and at the end of each one might be found flat on his +face studying some little hill of ants. + +At last, after travelling five hours, they came to a halt, ravenously +hungry. Dinner was cooked and eaten, and then, after dinner, they began +their long ascent of Saddleback, for they were going to a lonely little +pond on the second highest mountain in the State of Maine. There, at +Camp-in-the-Clouds, was a cabin in which Mrs. Reece could sleep, and the +girls, too, if they wished, although they declared that they would not. + +Up, up the hill they trudged, stepping over blow-downs, following their +footing carefully, and watching with interest the little animals that +scampered out of their way. But never did packs grow so heavy, and at +last Mrs. Reece, who was carrying nothing but Jack's camera, sat down +panting and laughing. + +"I can't go a step farther," she declared, "until I catch my breath." + +"This is a good place to rest," assented the guide. "Some deer found it +so this morning, I think. Here, catch that butterfly, Jack!" + +In a flash Jack had caught the butterfly, and brought it, gently, to Ben +Gile. + +"You don't see this fellow up here often. Who knows the difference +between a butterfly and a moth? No one? Well, that is because most +children are going to bed about the time the moth begins to fly. Doesn't +any one know? You have all seen moths and butterflies? Well, well, well! + +"The first thing you see is that when the moth lights on the edge of a +flower-cup, instead of holding the wings up above the body, as the +butterfly does, it spreads its wings flat over the body. Then a +butterfly has little knobs at the tips of its slender antennæ, while +the moth has slender ones without knobs, or pretty, feathery ones that +look like plumes." + +"I supposed," said Peter, "that moths and butterflies were just the +same, except that moths will fly into the house and burn their wings on +the lamps." Peter didn't in the least care about moths and butterflies. +He was longing to get to the top of the mountain, but he was too polite +to seem impatient. + +"They are alike in many ways. You remember, do you not, that the locust +has a pair of soft jaws covering over the dark, hard ones? In the moths +and butterflies these jaws are different. Each one is long, and has a +deep groove on the inner side. These two grooves fit together, and make +a slender tube called a proboscis. When flying this long tube is rolled +up in a tight coil under the head; alighting, the proboscis is quickly +uncoiled and dipped into the throat of the flower, and the sweet nectar +sipped from it. See here, Jack, what have you on your fingers?" + +"The dust from the butterfly's wings, sir." + +"No, not quite dust, or powder, either. That dust is tiny hair and +scales. If I had a powerful lens in my pocket I could show you how +deeply some of these tiny scales are scalloped, so that they look like a +hand with fingers. If you rubbed all the scales off that wing there +would be no color left, for the scales are like little sacs, and many of +them contain grains of color called pigment--red, yellow, or brown. You +have all seen the rainbow of colors on a soap-bubble? Well, the +brilliant colors of the wing are made in just the same way as the colors +on a bubble: by the light striking the little ridges on the overlapping +scales." + +"It is not only we who are fearfully and wonderfully made," said Mrs. +Reece, "but even the tiniest creatures God has created, and all with a +purpose, all with a place." + +The guide nodded his head. "The more you study, the more you see how +every least thing is part of a great mysterious whole. If you look at a +butterfly's wing from which the scales have been rubbed you will see +plan and purpose in the placing of even those scales; for the little +pits into which the stems of the scale fit are turned all one way, +toward the base of the wing." + +"They are so beautiful!" exclaimed Betty. "Are they always pretty?" + +"That depends," replied the old man, "whether in their caterpillar youth +you think them pretty. They have a bad name, then, for being homely, and +do a good deal of damage." + +"Oh, I hate caterpillars!" cried Hope. + +"Fuzzy caterpillars hump so and crawl," said Betty. + +"You mean woolly bears?" + +"Woolly bears!" exclaimed the children. + +"Yes; not Teddy bears. They have to play somehow, so they wiggle for +joy, and this takes them along very fast--that is, fast for a +caterpillar. Sometimes they spin a long thread by which they take a +flying short cut and land--on your back." + +Jimmie dropped a tiny twig down Betty's back, which made her scream. + +"But they don't harm us," said Ben Gile. "They are so fussy about what +they eat for dinner that they wouldn't think of biting even the sweetest +little boy or girl. They prefer something far more tender. Ah, you +wouldn't like Isabella!" The old man shook his head sadly. + +"Isabella! Who is Isabella?" questioned the children. + +"Isabella is always in a hurry," said the guide--"always. She is brown +in the middle, and black on the head and tail end, Isabella is, and she +walks rapidly, as if she had a great deal to do before she could take +time to be made over into a tiger-moth. She stops every once in a while +to make sure she is on the right road; then she hurries along in a +nervous, fidgety way, looking for a nice, comfortable stone under which +to have a winter home, for Isabella is in such haste that she could +never think of taking time to spin a cocoon." + +"But do all caterpillars turn into moths or butterflies?" asked Jack. + +"Yes, every one, my son, that lives long enough, just as surely as a boy +will turn into a man. The butterfly lays the egg, and after the egg has +been quiet for a while out comes a little worm; the worm spins the +cocoon, and out of the cocoon comes a perfect moth, or butterfly. It is +a wonderful cycle, a wonderful series of changes. Little boys and girls +seem to be surrounded with more love and don't change their skins as +moths do, but the mystery of life belongs quite as much to the helpless +moth as it does to any one of us." + +"But is a caterpillar an insect, and is a butterfly an insect?" asked +Betty. + +"Of course, you goose," said Jimmie; "you don't expect to hatch a duck +from a hen's egg, do you?" + +But Ben Gile, who was older than Jimmie and decidedly more patient, +explained, carefully: "If you look at a caterpillar and a moth you will +see that their bodies aren't so unlike, after all. They are made up of +rings, and both the moth and the caterpillar have six legs apiece. Most +caterpillars have little prop legs, but these aren't real legs and +shouldn't be counted. Caterpillars eat and eat and eat; they are such +solid little chaps they must need a good many legs, real and false, to +keep moving at all. Well, heigho! stretch your own legs, boys! We'll +leave the caterpillar where it is, and move on to the top of the +mountain, or we'll never be there in time to eat our own supper. One, +two, three, march!" + +And off they went, talking and laughing and scrambling up the side of +the mountain, which swung dark and steep above them. + + + + +XII + +CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS + + +The camp was reached. Once there, the children found the other two +guides in the cabin. The cook-tent was already pitched; the +sleeping-tents had been left so that the boys might choose their own +locations and help in pitching them. It was a beautiful place--remote, +wild, two-thirds up the side of the great mountain. + +In front was the famous trout pond, and beyond the little valley made by +the pond the crest of the mountain rose higher and higher. Dusk was +coming on, and the crisp mountain air was filled with the shadows of the +woods; along the mountain summit lay streamers of white cloud. Down, +down, down reached the long fingers of cloud, and up, up, up reached the +deep shadows, just as if a great hand were closing the world in dusk. +Every little sound was as clear in the evening air as the water of the +pond was transparent. Small shadows moved about the edge of the +pond--deer, they were, said Ben Gile, that had come down to the edge to +drink. + +"Phew, isn't it cold!" shouted the children, as they ran from one thing +to another; "and won't supper taste good!" + +Jack, who hadn't on any stout boots like Jimmie's, and whose jacket was +threadbare and thin, began to think the sleeping-blankets would feel +good when it was time to crawl in. In front of the cabin blazed a big +camp-fire, and around this fire supper was served. "Did stewed apricots, +soda-biscuits, bacon, eggs, hot cakes, ever taste so good? Will they +ever taste so good again? Did hot cakes and syrup ever make the butter +fly so fast?" asked Ben Gile. + +"And, speaking of the butterfly," he went on, "it's not time to turn in +yet, it's too dark to fish or explore, so let me tell you a little more +about the butterfly, and if you don't like it you can just imagine it is +a hot-cake butterfly." + +The children thought this was a great joke. But Peter, who had eaten so +much he was almost asleep, didn't hear what Ben Gile said. + +"Well," the old man continued, just as if he were beginning where he had +left off in the afternoon--"well, the caterpillar eats so much--it eats +almost as much as Peter does"--at this Peter opened his eyes +good-naturedly--"it eats so much that very soon it grows too big for its +skin, so the old skin splits for the growing body, and out comes young +caterpillar in a clean, new dress--a very easy way for Mrs. Butterfly to +have her babies get new clothes. Don't you think it is, Mrs. Reece?--no +hems to stitch, no buttons to sew on, no darning. The only things their +mothers ever do for them is to start them with the food they like. + +"And such a butterfly this mother is that little she cares whether her +children are considered pests or not, because they eat everything green +that they like, and eat before they are invited. A long sigh of relief +the gardener or farmer draws when the caterpillars lie quiet to pupate. +They lie very, very quiet, with wings, antennæ, and legs folded under +the body." + +"What does pupate mean?" asked Betty, who was poking the fire and +listening hard to every word the old man spoke. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Cocoon of a polyphemus moth. +_B._ Cocoon of a cecropian moth.] + +"It means just that--to lie quiet and change. They do it in different +ways. Some crawl down into the ground and some pull out their silky +hairs, and with these and the silk they can spin they make a soft, +silken cocoon. Some make over their last skin into a hard covering. The +monarch butterfly does this. + +"And there is a troublesome creature called the clothes moth--Mrs. Reece +can tell you about that--who lays its eggs on anything woollen it can +find. After a while a baby clothes moth, a whitish worm, hatches out. +Then this little fellow eats the fibres of the wool, and finally spins a +cocoon out of these fibres and its own silk. + +"Some caterpillars are leaf-rollers--that is, when they pupate they roll +over the corners of a leaf, make themselves a neat hammock, and there +lie quite still in a cool and comfortable place to sleep." + +Poor Peter had tumbled over, his head on Mrs. Reece's lap. Betty and +Hope, wide awake, were thinking just as much of the wonderful tent in +which they were to sleep as of the butterflies and moths. They were wide +awake enough to point their fingers at sleepy Peter. + +"I think there is one kind of moth," said Mrs. Reece, stroking Peter's +silky hair, "that spins something almost as soft as this." + +"Softer," affirmed Ben Gile; "and that is the silk-worm." + +"Does the caterpillar make the silk our dresses are made from?" asked +Betty. + +"Yes, indeed. The mother moth is a creamy-white. She lays several +hundred eggs; from each of these eggs comes a little worm. These little +worms have been cared for so long by men that they don't know how to +take care of themselves any more. + +"They like to eat the leaves of the mulberry-tree. If these leaves are +not to be found they will sometimes eat lettuce. For forty-five days +they eat as fast as they can, which is a good deal faster than greedy +children can eat. + +"Every ten days or so they cast aside their old skin and come out in a +new one. After the last moulting of the skin the worm begins to spin a +cocoon about itself. At first the cocoon is not very smooth, but in a +while the worm gets well started and spins the rest of it with one long, +silky thread." + +"Isn't that wonderful!" exclaimed one of the guides. "I suppose that +silk is finer than the finest trout-line." + +"A hundred times finer," answered Ben. "Usually it is three hundred +yards long. Before the pupa has a chance to make its way out, and so +destroy the long, silken thread, the man who has taken such care of the +worm drops the cocoon into boiling water, which kills the pupa at once. +Then the precious silk thread is carefully unwound on to little spools, +and is ready to be made into thread or spun into silk. + +"And now, children, it's time for you to spin your dreams. Shake up +Peter, and we'll get ready for the night. Too bad to leave this fire, +but we can have one as often as we want." + +The boys slept like tops, but there were two little girls who lay rather +wide awake most of the night, listening to the strangest grunting sounds +in the world. + + + + +XIII + +STORM-BOUND + + +After two glorious days of exploring--"exploricating," the guides called +it--the children went to bed early, expecting to make an early start to +hunt partridge. They were so tired from their good times that for two or +three hours they slept like tops. + +But in front of the cabin Ben Gile and Mrs. Reece and the other guides +were looking at the night sky anxiously. The lightning flashed more and +more vividly, black clouds were coming nearer and nearer. What was a +distant rumble soon became a near-by, long undertow of ominous sound. +Nearer and nearer it came, until every flash was followed by a sound +like ripping. + +Mrs. Reece was very uneasy, for she did not like to have the children in +the tents alone. But soon Betty and Hope came scampering through the +dark to the cabin. They were surprised to see the older people up. +Before long the boys also came to the cabin rubbing their eyes, yawning, +and pretending not to care whether there was to be a cyclone or a +cloud-burst. + +For a while all sat waiting for the storm to break. When it did break, +what torrents of rain and wind descended! How the trees groaned and +cracked! How the rain roared upon the shingled roof, and how the wind +howled through the mountain valley! + +"Well," said Ben Gile, "let's have a fire in the fireplace, then we can +have a crackle of our own." He had noticed how nervous Mrs. Reece grew, +and that the little girls were watching her. He could not help thinking +that it was foolish, even wicked, to waste strength in fear of something +which no one of them could stop. "Build a fire, boys." And build a fire +they did--a royal good blaze. "Now throw on some of those pine-cones you +children gathered." There was a flare in the cabin almost as bright as +the incessant flare of the lightning outside. "I'll tell you what we'll +do," he continued, "we will have a midnight spread. We will have some of +Tom's famous flapjacks. Mrs. Reece, don't you want to make molasses +candy, and then the children can pull it." + +The storm was forgotten by the children as, with many squeals of glee, +they rushed into this midnight frolic. + +"And now, Ben," said Tom, the guide, "I've just found something; I have +it in my hand. I propose, Ben, while the rest of us work, that you make +one of your stories out of it, and tell us all about it." + +Tom opened his hand, and the children crowded around to see. There was a +shout of laughter. + +"Why, that's only a dead June-bug!" + +"Who wants to know about a June-bug?" exclaimed Jimmie, much to the +discomfiture of the guide, who knew a great deal about moose and deer +and bears and beavers, even if he didn't know much about a June-bug. The +guides had profound respect for the schoolmaster, Ben Gile, who was +really too wise and kind to laugh at another's ignorance. But this is +another story, and Jimmie learned better in the years to come. + +"You're right, Tom," said Ben, "to want to know. Sometimes it's about +these commonest things folks know the least. When I was a boy it was +always so with me. There are several facts about a June-bug that are +interesting. First, it is not a bug at all; and, second, it comes in +May and not in June. It is really a May-beetle, and a great, clumsy, +buzzing, blundering fellow it is, as careless about its appearance as it +is about the way it enters a room. You know the old adage, 'Haste makes +waste'? Perhaps it's the haste that makes the June-bug's untidiness. +Beetles have hard wing covers--see these little shell-like casings?--to +cover the more delicate wings underneath. The June-bug has wing covers, +too, but it never keeps its best wings tucked in. They are always +hanging out in a crumpled way. These bugs eat the leaves of the trees, +and their children, little, fat, white grubs with horny heads, nibble, +as they crawl around under the surface of the earth, the tender roots of +the grass and the strawberry plants." + +"Why, Ben, you've told me more already," said Tom, "than any dullard +like me could ever learn from a book. To think it's a beetle! But I +might have known from looking at it. Are all the beetles harmful?" + +"Most of them are pests, and do a good deal of damage. Its cousin, +rose-beetle, is pretty, her body covered with soft, yellow hairs, and +she has rose-colored legs. But handsome is as handsome does, and +rose-beetle causes more damage than her clumsy cousin, for Rose feeds +on rose-bushes as well as on fruit trees. Indeed, almost everything that +comes to her mill is grist. She's as bad--and worse--than the +elm-beetle." + +By this time the cooking molasses smelled so good, the cabin fire roared +so pleasantly, and the smell of the flapjacks Adam was frying was so +appetizing, that the children had quite forgotten the storm outside, and +were having one of the jolliest frolics of their lives--one they never +forgot. + +"Tell us something more, sir," urged Jack, "about the beetles." + +"There is one comical fellow who makes me think of Peter. In the books +it is called a click-beetle, but it is also called a skip-jack because +of the somersaults it can turn. On the under side of its thorax is a +spine resting on the edge of a hole. This funny beetle, by pushing the +spine down over the hole and then letting it go, throws itself up in the +air with a sharp click." + +"Oh, I know them," called Hope, "for I have seen them doing it, but I +never knew how they did it!" + +"And now," said Master All-Wise, very soberly, "after I tell you that +the children of the click-beetle are called wire-worms, and that they +eat and kill the roots of plants, I want to tell you about a beetle no +one of you has ever seen--a most extraordinary beetle." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Lady-beetle. +_B._ Burying-beetle. +_C._ Oil-beetle.] + +All were attention at once. + +"Many years ago there lived away out in California a little, round, +brownish, striped beetle, which crawled about and ate heartily of a +plant called the sand-bur. One day one of the family happened to wander +up to a nice, juicy potato plant. After eating its fill it probably +looked up some of its brothers and sisters, and told them about these +good plants growing in the fields. With one accord they left the +sand-burs and began to eat the potato plant. Farther and farther they +wandered, until thousands of them reached the eastern part of our +country, eating the potato plants wherever they found them on the way. +Now, these beetles are to be seen everywhere in our country, spoiling +crop after crop." + +By this time Jack's eager face was smiling, and he was looking +questioningly at Ben Gile. + +"What kind of a beetle do you suppose it was?" asked the old man. + +Nobody knew. At last Jack ventured, "Was it a potato-bug, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh, of course!" shouted the children. "Why didn't we think of that? +But you said we had never seen it." + +"So I did," said the guide, "and I don't believe there is one child here +who has ever carefully watched the potato-bug. And there's the +carpet-beetle, whose babies eat carpets unless your mother tempts them +with pieces of red flannel. And there's the searcher-beetle, with its +pretty green or violet wing covers, who is always on the search for +caterpillars. And there's the fire-fly, which is a soft-bodied beetle. + +"And there's the very useful little beetle we call the ladybug, which is +not a bug, but a beetle. The ladybug is a great help to men who own +fruit orchards in the West. All over the country are to be found little +bugs called scale insects. These scales are very bad for trees, because +with their long, slender beaks the scales pump out the sap. Sometimes +they are so thick on the branch that they coat it entirely. You remember +that I told you that one of these troublesome scales is the +cottony-cushion scale, and that one day it was discovered that a +lady-beetle from Australia liked these scales very much. So a great many +of them were taken to California to eat the scales. The ladybugs eat +little green aphids, too, and often Mrs. Ladybug will lay her eggs +right in the midst of a family of aphids; and then the larvæ are +surrounded by a hearty lunch when they come out of the egg. They eat the +aphids, the scales, and sometimes the eggs of other insects." + +"Time, Ben," said Adam, "to have the flapjacks. I guess the storm must +be blowing over." + +All drew up to the cabin table, and ate as heartily as if they were +eating dinner. It really looked as if the children had had no supper. + +"In about half an hour," said Tom, "the storm will be over. Aren't there +any beetles that live in the water, Ben?" + +"Oh yes; you can see them any day if you go by a brook. The +diving-beetles are skimming about, rowing themselves along with their +flattened hind legs. Every few minutes they come to the surface and lift +their wings to get a little air under them, then down they go into the +brook. They are very hungry beetles, eating other insects which they +find in the water. The boldest often try to take a bite out of a fish. +Just think of calling a baby beetle a water-tiger! Well, these babies +are as savage and ferocious to the little creatures living about them in +the water as a big tiger would be to us, if we should happen to meet +one. + +"I like best the whirligig-beetles, they are such frisky fellows, always +having a good time, frolicking about with dozens of other little +whirligigs. They are bluish-black and shiny, and if you look carefully +you will see a little bubble at the tip of every tail. This little +bubble is held there by tiny hairs, and because whirligig has it, it can +breathe while it stays under the water. From time to time it comes to +the surface to get a new bubble, then is off again for another race or +game of tag with its friends, and at the same time to snap up a few +water creatures for dinner. It looks as though it had four eyes, but it +has not, just two, divided into upper and lower halves. The upper halves +look up through the water and the lower ones down at the bottom of the +brooks. So, you see, insects must step lively if they want to keep out +of its clutches. + +"The babies of some beetles, instead of liking nice, clean food, prefer +dead animals. The mother and father hunt around until they find a dead +mouse or bird; then they begin to dig away the earth under the mouse or +bird and around it. Finally the poor dead thing is in a deep hole; then +Mrs. Burying-beetle lays her eggs on it, and together they cover it up +with earth. When the grubs hatch they find plenty to eat, and are soon +big burying-beetles, like their mothers and fathers. + +"Did you ever wonder how the little fat worms get inside of chestnuts +and acorns? A beetle called a weevil is the creature which puts the fat +worms there. Mrs. Weevil has a long, slender, curved beak. She crawls up +on to the side of a chestnut, bores a hole in the side, then lays an egg +deep down in it. After a while the egg hatches and a tiny grub begins to +feed on the nut. Fatter and fatter it gets; sometimes it lies in the nut +all winter, but more often it crawls out and buries itself in the ground +while it grows into a weevil. + +"Some day, as you are walking along a sunny road in the country, you may +meet a blister-beetle. It is a pretty, bluish-green color, and when you +pick it up you will see drops of oil oozing out of its joints. The dried +bodies will raise a blister on the skin, and that is the reason we call +such beetles blister-beetles. There is a queer blister-beetle who lays +her eggs near bees' nests. The baby beetles then wait for a bee to come +along. They fasten themselves to the hairs on the bee's body. When the +bee goes to its nest to put in the honey the young beetle manages to +get into a honey-cell with the egg. Mrs. Bee does not see that anything +is amiss, seals up the cell, and flies away for another load. The larva +first eats the egg of Mrs. Bee, then it changes into a clumsy kind of a +fellow, floats in the honey, and eats all it can so that it will quickly +become a grown-up. + +"There is one beetle which plants a tiny fungus in its home in the +ground. The babies run along and eat the tips of this delicacy, while +the mothers and fathers take larger bites. These are called +ambrosia-beetles, because of the dainty food they eat. Now that the +storm is over, I mustn't tell you anything more than a few words about +the engraver-beetle, which lives between the bark and the live wood of a +tree. Mr. and Mrs. Engraver-Beetle make a long tunnel under the bark. +Mrs. Engraver makes notches along the sides, and in every notch lays an +egg. When the babies hatch, each one begins a tunnel for itself, running +out straight from the long one. And now that's the end of this story." + +"Well, Ben," said Tom, respectfully, "these children don't know the +value of the things they are learning. It's a privilege, sir, to have a +chance to guide with you. I've learned more in these last years about +God's wonders from you than ever I learned in all my long life. I didn't +know there were so many beetles in the world." + +"These are only half a dozen of a multitude of beetles which we haven't +the time to name." + +"Now, off to bed, children," said Mrs. Reece, "or you'll never be able +to get up early. Good-night to every one!" + + + + +XIV + +A DAY'S HUNTING + + +It was a glorious day after the night's storm. By five o'clock the +children were ready to go hunting with Ben Gile. + +Although they were rather sleepy, yet they managed to get an early +breakfast--five o'clock is an early breakfast, isn't it?--and by six +o'clock they were off into the woods. Ben Gile made the children follow +behind him in single file, and so in line, making as little noise as +possible, they went through the woods. The birch-trees and poplars, in +the midst of the darker, heavier foliage, seemed golden with the early +sunlight. Everywhere the bushes sparkled with the rain of the night +before. They took a path that ran almost in a curve around one entire +side of the mountain. Ben Gile kept a sharp lookout, for the partridge, +he knew, would be upon the ground or up in the trees. He pointed to +several places where partridge had been scratching. The woods were full +of them, and every minute he expected to hear the whir of their wings as +they started up. And, sure enough, there was suddenly a loud beating of +wings, and then, crack! crack! crack! from the shot-gun. Down came three +plump partridges. Not more than ten minutes later the old man brought +down three more. Then he let Jack, who was a good shot, take his gun, +and down came two more. + +"Eight partridge," he exclaimed, "and quite enough for us all! We shoot +only what we actually need for food, not a bird more. Oho! somebody else +made a home here. Old Paw Bear has been tearing it out and licking his +chops." + +The children leaned forward, looking eagerly. "What was it?" they asked. + +"Honey," said the guide. "Paw Bear has a sweet tooth for honey and +berries." + +"I should think the bees would sting him," said Jimmie. + +"They do try to, but little he cares, with his thick coat of hair. Not a +bit. The bees have another enemy, too, which is always hovering about to +find a chance to get into the busy little house; that is the bee-moth. +If she gets the least opportunity Mother Bee-Moth lays her eggs in the +wax of the honeycomb, for the baby moths are very fond of wax. It's not +an easy matter to get in when the bees are not looking, but she manages +it quite often; and when the little larvas hatch out of the eggs, they +eat the wax and the mischief is done. When Mother Bee-Moth is seen the +bees rush upon her and sting her to death. They have good cause to hate +her, for the wax is precious, hard to make and to mould into the little +cells. It is not pleasant to have some miserable worm eat the roof from +your head. Oftentimes the bees are so discouraged that they decide, as +they talk it over in bee language, that it is easier to build a new home +than to repair the old one. They settle upon an hour of departure, and +off they go." + +"But I didn't know," said Betty, "that bees live in their hives; I +thought that they just stored their honey there." + +"So did I," said Jimmie. + +It was Jack's time to smile, for, a country boy, he had often watched +the hives. "Couldn't you tell us something, sir? Here's a bit of the +cone left." + +"Do you want to hear?" + +"Oh, I think bees are so interesting!" Betty clapped her hands. + +[Illustration: LEAF-CUTTER BEE] + +"Did you ever look closely at a bee? Their bodies are covered with +hairs, unlike the hairs found on other insects, for each hair is a tiny +plume. And their mouths, which they have to use for so many different +things, are remarkably made; each part is formed to do a certain kind of +work. First there are the strong biting jaws, then another pair of jaws +joined to the lower lip, which move easily back and forth. This forms a +sucking instrument, which the bees use for drinking nectar." + +"My," exclaimed Peter, "it must be convenient to have two pairs of +jaws!" + +"On the head, too, are antennæ, which form little elbows, like those of +the ant. With these the bee smells and feels. Some bees have short +tongues, and usually live alone; others have long tongues, and generally +live in colonies. Perhaps a long tongue makes an insect sociable, and +perhaps sociability makes a tongue grow long." + +The children were looking at their tongues to see which had the longest. +Peter scanned his anxiously. "Your tongue is awfully long, Pete," said +Jack. + +"I know an interesting short-tongued bee who lives in a house by +herself. Her name is Andrena. She bores a hole in the ground, digging +out a wide hallway. From this she digs side passages, each one ending +in a little closed room. The walls of these rooms are hard and shiny, +like porcelain. When Andrena finishes her house she makes a nourishing +paste of nectar and pollen. Pollen is the yellow powder from flowers. +You know bees, by carrying about the pollen, help in fertilizing the +flowers. But of this we shall learn more some day when we are talking +about the flowers. This powder the bee packs down into the little rooms. +Then she lays an egg on each pile of food and builds a door to shut the +egg away safely." + +"Do bees always feed their children on nectar and pollen?" asked Hope. + +"Always," replied the old man. "They never feed their babies on other +insects, as the ants and wasps do. Then there are the little +short-tongued bees who live in apartments, the apartments all clustered +together, with a common wide passageway into the ground and separate +hallways. Around the main opening is an odd chimney, built on a slant, +which prevents the rain from pouring into the open doorway." + +The children were wide-eyed with astonishment. That bees should build +chimneys was more than they could believe! + +"Goodness!" said Jimmie, "if that is what a short-tongued bee can do, +what can a long-tongued bee do?" + +"They are very clever. Some are carpenters, some masons, some miners, +some tailors. The leaf-cutter bee makes a neat home, covering the walls +with pretty, green leaves. First she digs a tunnel in a suitable branch +of wood; then she goes to a rosebush, cuts out an oval piece of a rose +leaf, and arranges it smoothly on the walls of the tunnel; cuts other +oval pieces and puts them on, fastening the edges neatly together. In +the bottom of the tunnel she puts some pollen paste, lays an egg on the +paste, cuts some circular pieces of rose leaf, which she presses on the +top of the egg and pollen, forming a green roof for the room and a floor +for the room above. She puts in more food and another egg, until the +tunnel is full of little rooms." + +"And what does the carpenter-bee do?" asked Jack, looking with new +respect at the bit of honeycomb he held in his hand. + +"She makes doors of pith, and, like the tender mother she is, sits on +top of the nest waiting for her babies to grow up. This is a most +unusual thing for a bee mother to do. The egg at the very bottom of the +tube hatches first, but it has to wait until the others hatch. +By-and-by Mrs. Carpenter-Bee takes them all out for a sunny flight in +the summer air." + +"And they never come back any more!" sang out Peter. + +"Indeed they do, you care-free youngster. The pith doors have been taken +down, and they come back to put things in order. They clean house; they +bring out every scrap piece by piece. There is a big carpenter-bee that +makes its doors of chips of wood, usually neatly glued together. There +is just one lazy bee in the world of which I know, and that is a +visiting-bee." + +"Visiting-bees?" + +"Yes, the guest-bees, who visit their friends the year round, let their +hosts wait upon them, and never help to keep anything clean or to +collect nectar and pollen. Mrs. Guest-Bee even lays her eggs in Mrs. +Bumblebee's nest, and when the guest babies hatch out, it is not their +mother, but Mrs. Bumblebee, who feeds them from the food she has stored +up for her own children. The guest-bees are so lazy that no little +baskets are found on their legs for carrying pollen." + +"But aren't the bees ever idle?" asked Peter, whose conscience hurt him +because he never liked to work. + +"No bee except the guest-bee and drone is ever idle. The happy-go-lucky +bumblebee, which buzzes so near us on these warm summer days, is always +on the go, although she is easy-going and happy-go-lucky. Mrs. Bumblebee +isn't an over-particular person, as bee persons go. She is not a careful +housekeeper, like her cousin Mrs. Honey-Bee, but she carries her own +burdens just the same, and probably is as contented in her roughly made, +untidy house as Mrs. Honey-Bee is in her beautifully neat one. Sometimes +she has a nest as big as your head, with rooms in it of all sizes and +shapes. She probably thinks the honey-bee family would get along just as +well if they were a little less fussy, and probably she is right. Early +in the spring Mrs. Bumblebee starts out house-hunting. When she finds +the place she wants she puts some honey and pollen there, and lays an +egg on the little pile. After a while the larvas come out of the eggs. +When they have eaten what they want they make a cocoon, and curl up for +a rest while they are being made into little workers. You know, the bee +family is made up of the mother bee, who is called the queen, and many +fathers, who are called drones; all the rest are workers." + +"That's something like the ants, sir, isn't it?" + +"Yes, something, Jack; but you mustn't tell that story yet. Every one of +Mrs. Bumblebee's first family are workers. While the first workers are +out getting food for their brothers and sisters, Mrs. Bumblebee takes +the old cocoons which they have left behind and makes them over into +rooms for the new babies, who are to be drones and queens. + +"They are very happy all summer long, but as it grows colder they begin +to shiver and shake. At last all die except the young queens, who have +crawled away from the nest and found a warm crack somewhere in which to +take a long nap. When the spring comes the young queens rub their eyes, +stretch their legs and wings, and are off looking for a home for their +coming families." + +"But what kind of bee's-nest did old Paw Bear get into?" asked Hope. + +"This nest was a wild honey-bee's nest. Some honey-bees are wild this +way, but most live close to the homes of men. When they live in our +gardens they live in a hive we make for them, and the families consist +of Mrs. Honey-Bee, the queen, about a hundred Mr. Honey-Bees, and many +thousands of workers. The workers are the little bees, the drones the +middle-sized ones, and the queen is the great big bee. + +"Men often help the workers to build the little cells in which they +store the honey and in which the queen lays the eggs. These cells are +six-sided rooms. Every day the queen lays an egg in one of the little +rooms, and with it the workers put some pollen and honey. In three days +out comes the larva from the egg. It is a helpless creature, soft and +white, and without feet. + +"Busy, busy workers are always on hand to take the best care of the +babies. The first food the nurses give them is bee jelly, which looks +something like blanc-mange. This bee jelly the workers make in their +stomach, then feed it from their own mouths into the baby mouths. After +lunching a couple of days on bee jelly they are old enough to eat pollen +and honey, which the workers get out of the six-sided rooms where they +have packed it away. + +"These babies grow very quickly. Soon they are so long that they almost +fill their rooms. Then the nurses put in some extra food, tuck in the +babies, and make a roof of wax over each room. For a whole day the baby +has to feed itself, shut away all alone; then it stops eating, and lies +very quietly while it is being made into a real bee. In about thirteen +days it splits its dried skin, in which it has been napping, gnaws a +hole in the wax roof, and out it comes--a full-fledged bee. + +"But it is too new and young to go out in the big world yet, so for a +few weeks it is kept busy in the hive nursing other baby bees. When it +has grown stronger it leaves the hive, flying out over the sunny +pastures in search of buttercups and clover heads. + +"Whenever the honey-bees want to make a queen they know just how to do +it. You know, a queen is a very important person. A bee queen is like an +ant queen, not the ruler of a kingdom, but the mother of many, many +children. Since a queen is a person of such note, she must have a larger +room than an ordinary worker, so they set to work and tear down the +partitions between two or three cells. When the egg in the large room +hatches the white larva is fed bee jelly, just like the little worker +larva, but it is never given any pollen or honey. When it is five days +old some jelly is put in the room with it and a roof is built over its +head. For seven long days the baby stays here all alone, then it gnaws +its way out, and, wonder of wonders, we have a queen instead of a +worker! + +"Now, Mrs. Honey-Bee has been the queen of the family so long she is +very angry to have a young queen hatch out, and does all she can to kill +her. But the workers have spent much time and labor in making this +queen, and they stand close around her to protect her from the jealous +old queen. The honey-bee family, however, has grown so big that there is +room for no new babies in the hive, and that is the reason that the +workers have raised a new queen, so that she may start a new family. + +"There is not room in one house for two queens; one must go, and it is +usually old Mrs. Honey-Bee. Surrounded by part of the family, she flies +out of the old home in search of a new place. If she is living in some +one's garden a new hive is all ready for her, and she soon settles down +again to her egg-laying, while the workers hurry to bring in food for +the new babies. If there is no hive ready for this exiled family, it +swarms in a tree or any other good place it happens to find." + +"Yes," said Betty; "but do the workers have to work all the time?" + +"They do everything except the egg-laying. All the pollen and honey +must be brought into the hive by them. Have you ever seen the little +baskets which working bees have for carrying pollen? Perhaps you do not +know what pollen is. Well, some day look right down in the centre of a +flower and you will find some fine yellow powder. That is pollen, or bee +bread, and the bees are very fond of it. On the hind leg of the worker +is a nice smooth place, and on each side of it are stiff, curved hairs +which cover it over. Into this little cage the bees push the pollen, +then fly swiftly away toward the hive. Here this heavily laden little +fellow stands over one of the rooms and pushes the pollen off his hind +legs by scraping with his middle legs. + +"You have eaten honey, and know how thick and sweet it is. Very unlike +the sweetened water in the flower-cups, isn't it? The bees make this +honey out of the watery nectar, and I will tell you how they do it. The +bee sips this sweet nectar into its mouth, then the nectar goes down a +tiny tube into a little pouch called the honey sac. This sac opens into +the stomach, but between the two are little lips which guard the +entrance. If the worker is hungry the little lips open, and the nectar +goes from the honey sac into the stomach. But if it wants to carry it +back to the hive the lips stay tightly closed. When the honey sac is +full the worker flies back to the hive and empties it into one of the +rooms. + +"Then a number of bees stand with their heads bent downward and move +their wings just as fast as they can, looking like miniature electric +fans. Of course they grow very warm, and this makes the hive warm. This +warm air evaporates the extra water in the nectar, and soon the honey is +all finished. These bees which beat the air so tirelessly keep the hive +fresh and sweet, which is very necessary when so many bees live in one +house. + +"The workers make the cells as well as fill them, and now a very queer +thing happens. A great many bees eat a great deal of honey. They eat all +they can hold, then crawl up to the top of the hive. There are as many +there as can find room; the rest hang on to these until a curtain of +bees is formed. Sometimes they hang quietly and patiently for several +days until, on the under side of the abdomen, tiny shining plates of wax +appear. Other workers break off these pieces of wax and build them up +into cells. You know how big a pound is, don't you? Well, just think how +many, many times the bees must carry honey to the hives when I tell you +that twenty-one pounds of honey will make but one pound of wax. Bees are +very economical with their wax. When they have to patch up holes and +fill in cracks in their hives they do it with a gum which they scrape +off sticky buds. + +"All summer long these workers are laying in food to keep this large +family during the cold weather. If for any reason the supply of food is +low the workers sting the babies to death rather than have them starve. +Is it any wonder that these workers, who have so much to do and so many +cares from morning until night, die very young? The queen may live for +two or three years, but the workers do not live longer than six or eight +weeks." + +"Goodness me!" said Jimmie, "I wouldn't have believed there was any +insect on the face of the earth as clever as those bees! If insects were +all like that, I'd want to know about every one of them. Can't you tell +us something of the wasp? They must be clever fellows, too." + +"Not to-day," answered Ben Gile; "it is getting toward noon, and we must +start home for dinner and to get our partridge cooked. Pick up the +birds, Jack, and put them in your game-bag. We must be off." + + + + +XV + +LEAVING CAMP + + +At last the day had come, and the children were to leave +Camp-in-the-Clouds. They had been there for one whole glorious week of +fishing, hunting, camping, picnicing, stories, and sleeping in tents. +Betty and Jimmie felt rather sober, for the time for them to go back to +the city was drawing near. A week now, and their good times for the +summer would be over. Already the leaves were turning a little, and the +air growing crisper every day. Indeed, up in Camp-in-the-Clouds they had +twice in the early morning to break the ice on the spring in order to +get the water, and at night the blankets felt warm and cosey. Betty and +Jimmie liked their city home, and after they were once in it they +enjoyed their school work, too. They had many friends, entertainments, +parties, and made many expeditions to the Zoo and to the parks. But, +somehow, the happiest days of all the year came in the summer in +Rangeley Village. Every hour seemed precious to them now, and the +fingers on Betty's right hand--the number of days that were left--were +all too few. Even Jimmie, who cared less for the country than Betty did, +was sorry. And the children were sorry to have them go. All through the +cold, white winter in Rangeley Village they were expecting the Reece +children and the old guide. With their coming, good times began again. + +And this morning, on which they were leaving camp, they felt rather +blue, for, although they expected to come back the next summer, as +indeed they did, yet it seemed such a long, long time to wait! They +followed Ben Gile single file down the mountain at a good pace, but +without saying very much. By noon they had reached the Dead River Ponds, +and were ready for luncheon. + +"I think some of that birch, Tom," said Ben Gile, "would make a good +fire for us." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Feeding the baby wasps. +_B._ A grown-up wasp.] + +Tom, who was a famous woodchopper in winter, went off toward the tree, +followed by lazy little Peter, who loved to see others work. Soon the +chips were flying right and left. Suddenly there was a yell from Peter. +Tom dropped his axe. Ben Gile hurried over to the boy, and the others +crowded around. Tom was sure a splinter had gone into Peter's eye. The +lad was holding on to his eye, and jumping up and down with pain. But as +Ben Gile was trying to make the boy take his hand away, Tom exclaimed, +grabbed one hand with the other, and made for the pond. "It's hornets, +Ben!" he called; and before the others could say anything he had clapped +some mud on his own hand and brought mud for Peter's eye, which he +poulticed with this useful material, and tied around it a big white +handkerchief. Although Peter did not in the least like the bite, yet he +felt rather proud of the bandage, and for the first time in his life he, +too, wanted to know about the creatures who could give so much pain. + +"Tell us, sir," the children cried, "about the wasps while dinner is +cooking." + +So Ben Gile, who had left the cooking to the other guides, gathered the +children and Mrs. Reece about him, and began: "One day last fall I saw, +high up in a tree near the pond, the pretty, gray nest of Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp. It did not look like a real house, with windows in it and +steps leading up to it. But there it hung, swinging in the bare +branches, its walls of pretty, soft gray blending so beautifully with +the pale-blue sky. + +"I wondered whether any of the wasp family was at home, but the house +was too high for me to reach, so I went away to find a long pole with +which to knock. With my long pole I knocked gently at first, then louder +and louder, but no one stirred within. So I poked harder, trying to +break off a strong branch which ran straight through the top of the +house. At last it broke off, and down came the gray house almost into my +arms. + +"It was big and round, like a Japanese lantern. Guess of what it was +made? Just paper. But not our kind of paper; it was wasp-paper. Mrs. +Vespa and her family make this paper out of wood-pulp, which they get by +scraping off the weathered wood from trees and fences. Of course this +old wood is of various colors, but that makes the house so much the +prettier. One wasp comes back with its burden of woody pulp rolled up in +a little pellet. This it takes and spreads in thin ribbons along the +edge of the wall which is being made. Perhaps this edge is dark gray. +Then off it flies for more material, while another takes its place with +a pellet of light gray, which is soon skilfully moulded on to the edge. +Sometimes the outer wall consists of several layers of this wasp-paper, +which is strong and waterproof. Within the wall are many stories of +cone, built like different floors in our own houses. + +"Early in the spring Mrs. Vespa-Wasp, who has been passing the cold +winter days tucked away in a warm crevice somewhere, comes out and finds +a site for her summer home. She begins this as a very small and simple +one, starting with just a few rooms fastened to the branch of a tree. +Here she lays an egg in each little room, then brings in food for the +new baby wasps which are in the making. The kind of food which is stored +away depends upon the kind of wasps. Some like beetles, some spiders, +some caterpillars, and others grasshoppers and cicadas. + +"As in the bee family, the first children are all workers, because Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp needs assistance in building up the home and feeding the +children. This first home is small, not nearly large enough for the +growing family, so new rooms must be built at once. These are added on +to the first ones until there is a good-sized layer of them. If Mrs. +Wasp should go on making this upper story larger and larger, it would be +buffeted about by the wind and rain, and perhaps broken. So the family +starts a second story under the first. On the under side of the top +floor some of the cells are broken away and a stem is made to start the +next floor, and so on, until there are four or five combs in the house. +They are always building the house over, tearing down the walls to make +room for new floors; but this does not make the house unsafe in the mean +time, as the walls are not connected with the floors, but form a loose +envelope about them. + +"Later in the season, after the family has become very large, some of +the upper cells are torn out, making a nice, warm attic, where the +family may go to keep out of the wind and rain. They dislike the cold +and wet very much. + +"I carried this big house to my cabin with me, so that I might look it +over and see just how it was arranged. Very carefully I cut away a +little of the outer wall until I had a place large enough to look +through. Guess what I saw lying cuddled down in many of these rooms? +Little, soft, white baby wasps. When the Vespa family are grown up they +are called hornets, and Peter and Tom know how hornets sting! I was not +afraid of the babies, but was not sure that all the old wasps were out. +It was a cold day, and wasps get stiff very quickly, so I watched +carefully to see whether the warm air of the room would not limber up +some stiff joints which were perhaps in hiding up-stairs in the house. +Sure enough, in a few moments out crawled a worker, looking quite dazed +and sheepish at the change in temperature. I did not wait for it to +become thoroughly awake, but picked it up with the forceps and put it +out of the window. I was kept busy, for twenty-five old fellows walked +out, thinking, no doubt, that they had made a mistake in the season, and +that it was not time, after all, for them to die. All the wasp family, +except the queens, expect to die, and do die in the autumn. + +"I could not find either flies or spiders for the babies, and even if +there had been a few about I could not have used them, as there was no +worker wasp to chew them soft and fine for them. So I made a nice, +appetizing syrup of sugar and water, and found that young wasps were as +eager for sweets as little children are. They worked their baby mouths +busily as long as I had the patience to feed them. When the Vespa family +are grown up they eat honey dew from the little aphids, fruit juice, and +the nectar from flowers, or, if fortune favors them, they may gain +entrance to Mrs. Honey-Bee's home, and feast from her well-filled +honeycombs. But the babies all eat insects which their mothers put in +the little rooms beside the eggs. + +"Mrs. Polistes is a cousin of Mrs. Vespa. She is long and slender, while +Mrs. Vespa is rather broad. Her house is a much simpler affair. It has +just one layer of rooms suspended by a stem from the under side of a +porch, or maybe the eaves, of a house." + +"Are there solitary wasps," asked Jimmie, "just as there are solitary +bees?" + +"Many wasps prefer to live alone rather than in a big house with +hundreds of others. They are like bees in their cleverness, knowing how +to tunnel in wood, dig deep pits in the ground, or make nests of mud. +Mr. Kellogg, a very wise man, and young to be so wise, tells of one +interesting little wasp, called the thread-waisted sand-digger, which +lives in California in the salt-marshes. These marshes are covered by +plants, but in between are little smooth places covered with a +glistening crust of salt. It is in these open spots that Mrs. +Sand-Digger makes her home. She has strong jaws, and with these she cuts +out a neat little circle of salty crust. Then she begins to dig a +tunnel, humming away to herself all the time. After the hole is ready +she very carefully backs out of it and puts a circular door on. + +"Then she flies away to find food to store up for her children. These +babies like tender, green inch-worms, so Mrs. Digger-Wasp hunts around +until she finds a fat one, and then proceeds to paralyze it, so that it +will stay quietly in the house until the babies are ready to eat it, for +baby digger-wasps are little cannibals, preferring living caterpillars +to any pre-digested spiders or flies. It is very wonderful that Mrs. +Digger-Wasp knows where to sting a caterpillar in order to paralyze it +and yet not kill it. But she does. Perhaps you remember that insects +have knots of nerve cells, connected by nerve threads, extending from +one end of the body to the other? Jimmie remembers that I pinched him to +illustrate this point. The knot on the top of the food-tubes is the +brain, then underneath there are usually three in the thorax and several +in the abdomen. Well, Mrs. Digger-Wasp stings one or more of these +little knots, which we call ganglia. That paralyzes the young inch-worm, +so that it becomes limp and helpless, but still lives. Then Mrs. Wasp +picks it up and carries it to her house, and packs it in the bottom of +the tunnel. + +"After putting in five or ten she lays an egg, fastening it on the body +of one of the worms. She backs out of the tunnel, and flies off to +collect balls of dirt. With these she fills up the tunnel completely. +Carefully she puts the little round door on. One day some one saw her do +a curious thing. She wished to be very sure that the door was fast shut. +Perhaps it did not fit well. So she found a tiny pebble, held it in her +jaws, and hammered the door down with it. Wasn't that a clever thing for +a wasp to do? The door closed, this is all the attention she gives to +baby digger-wasps. She has put in plenty of food, even for the hungriest +larva. Now it must look out for itself, eat, grow fat and strong, and +then dig its way out into the salt-marsh. + +"Mrs. Eumenes is a good-looking little wasp dressed in black and yellow. +She is a mason, making a pretty mud vase for a home. The clay, or mud, +she moistens, then moulds it, little by little, into the vase, which she +fastens on to a twig. Some mud-daubers make small cylinders placed side +by side. Into these they put stung spiders, after tearing off their legs +to make sure they will not recover and run away before the eggs hatch. +Sometimes the mud-daubers plaster up the keyholes in a house, and so +have snug homes. + +"One day last summer, as I was sitting outside my cabin, I noticed a +wasp carrying something green in its mouth. It came close to my head, +then finally crawled up under the shingles on the side wall. All the +afternoon it came and went, each time bringing something green. The next +afternoon I was loading my guns, and had put a hollow gun-barrel on a +table at my side. Soon I heard a whir of insect wings, and there, on the +table, was my wasp friend. It walked up and down, examining very +carefully the hollow barrel, then cautiously it crawled in. In about +five minutes it crawled out again and flew away. Soon it was back with a +piece of green in its mouth. It crawled into the barrel and left the +green. Six times the wasp did this; then my curiosity became so great I +could wait no longer. When she flew away I tapped the barrel on the +table and emptied out six little green worms, all limp and still. But +Mrs. Wasp was back again, and I guiltily withdrew. She had brought the +seventh worm, and when she saw the six lying on the table she was much +puzzled. She went around and poked each one to see whether it was limp, +fearing, perhaps, that she had not stung them hard enough; but, finding +them helpless, she picked them up one by one and patiently carried them +back into the gun-barrel. Three times I emptied them out, and three +times she put them back, then flew away, never to return. I suppose the +last time she went in she laid the egg among the little worms, and then, +her duty done, was off to find another good place to start a family. + +"Have you ever seen a big cicada which makes the long, rasping sound in +the trees? Some wasps like these very much for food. So, when cicada +sings, Mrs. Wasp swoops down on it, stings it, and then, big and clumsy +as it is, carries it to her home for her children to feast upon." + +"A cicada is three or four times as large as a wasp, isn't it?" asked +Mrs. Reece. + +"Yes; but there is nothing the wasps can't do," replied Ben Gile. + +"I should think not!" exclaimed Peter, who by this time was able to +smile again. + +"The trout are ready, Ben," said Adam, "and everything else, too, I +guess." + +With running and laughter the children were soon about the fire, eating +their last delicious out-of-door dinner. + + + + +XVI + +EYES AND NO EYES + + +The evening party at Ben Gile's cabin was to be the last of all the +beautiful summer, for the next day Betty and Jimmie were to leave with +their mother for the city, and this was the evening which was to decide +who was to receive the prize. + +Betty had been working very hard for it, and wanted it. But Jimmie +couldn't see any use in lying with your nose on an ant-hill. As for +Peter, he giggled whenever ants were mentioned to him, and seemed not to +care much one way or another. Hope, however, was often with Betty, and +the two girls, flat on the grass, tried to discover as many mysteries as +they could about the busy little fellows. As for Jack, he was as busy as +the ants, following them about, lying quietly for hours, and borrowing +any book he could find that would tell about them. It seemed to him that +if he could have that magnifying-glass, that book of colored plates, +and the five-dollar gold piece, he would be the richest boy in all the +world! He thought about it by night and by day, and he was certain that +with the insect book and the glass, he should discover things nobody +else in the world had ever seen. + +The poor boy was trembling with eagerness on this evening of the party +at the guide's cabin. The children took their turn in telling what they +knew. Peter giggled, and said they seemed to lug a good deal of food. +Jimmie said they ran in and out of their ant hills very fast, and knew +how to build big hills. Hope was so frightened that, when it came her +turn, the child could not tell even the little she knew. + +But Betty, who loved everything in the out-of-door world, forgot herself +and her fright in the true love which she had for natural history. She +said she had spent hours in a neighborhood of ants, near the doorways +they had in the ground. Some of the doorways were large, and some were +small, and the little ants who went in and out of the doors carried off +the pieces of cake she fed to them. Sometimes the crumbs were three or +four times as big as the ants. She had seen two little ants attack a +large piece of cake, but it proved too much for them, so one mounted +guard over it while the other scurried off. In a few moments it came +back with a whole squad of ants, who surrounded the cake and pushed and +pulled with all their might. They actually got it to the door, Betty +said, and after that she could see it no more. Then Betty spoke a little +wistfully: "If only I had been an ant I could have gone down after it. I +could have seen what they did with it, sir." + +"Well, my dear," said Ben Gile, "if you want to see what they do, start +a colony of them some day in a glass case. That will solve a good many +of your problems. And now, what else?" + +"I saw them doing a good deal that was interesting, sir, but I couldn't +understand it." + +"It's your turn, Jack. We will come back to Betty by-and-by." + +"I found out, sir, that in every ant colony there are always three kinds +of ants--the queens, the males, and the workers. It's much like what you +told us of the bees. And it seemed to me, sir, every time I looked at +them, that they were happy together, busy with their work and never +quarrelling with one another. I suppose they were happy because each one +had some special work to do. I looked it all up in the books, and I +found that some are born queens, to be waited on, while others are born +workers, to do the serving. But they are all contented. + +"The queen ant is not a real queen ruling a little kingdom; she is the +mother ant, and lays all the eggs. She is well cared for and protected +by the workers. These are the active little ants who do the work. They +are happy, too, running about, digging new passageways, clearing the +paths to their front doors, and bringing in food, which they store in +their granaries. Some ants, sir, build their tunnels very deep +underground. A doorway opens into a wide gallery, from which others +branch and wind their way down into the dark ground. Sometimes they +build a high mound around the entrance, and often a large colony will +have many such mounds." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Honey ant. +_B._ Ants exchanging greetings.] + +"Some ants," added Ben Gile, "dig out their homes in dead logs or hollow +stems. I know of one little fellow who is clever enough to build a shed. +It hunts around to find decayed wood. This it chews into a fine pulp, +then spreads it out into a roof; sometimes it is a good-sized roof. This +same ant dearly loves the honeydew which aphids secrete. So in order to +protect these helpless little green bugs, and make them as comfortable +and contented as possible, they build a neat shed over them. When the +ants wish a dainty luncheon of honeydew they crawl up under the little +shed and get a drink of this sweet juice. Although a colony of ants +lives together so peacefully, Jack, they are apt to be very quarrelsome +with their neighbors; often they go to war with another colony if the +members of that colony happen to trespass on their grounds." + +"I found out about some naughty, lazy ants, sir. Instead of taking care +of their own homes and hunting up their own food, they go out to war +against another kind of ant, which is living quietly and attending to +its own business. All the grown-up ants these little fighters either +kill or frighten so that they run away as fast and as far as their legs +will carry them. Then these lazy ants steal the eggs and the babies. +Some of them they eat on the way home, but most of them they carry to +their underground galleries. There they take good care of them until +they are grown up. Then these stolen babies become the slaves of the +lazy ants; but the poor little slaves have never known any other life, +so they cheerfully serve their masters, doing everything for them; in +fact, so long have these masters had little slaves to wait upon them +that they do not know at all how to look out for themselves. They have +been known to starve to death rather than to feed themselves." + +"But there are many respectable ants," objected Ben Gile, "and I will +tell you how a well-regulated household behaves. One day last summer, +when I was walking in the afternoon, I found myself suddenly surrounded +by a cloud of winged insects--thousands and thousands of them. I caught +one of them and found that it was a winged ant, for the males and queens +have wings with which to fly away on their wedding journey. This journey +lasts only a short time, and usually many colonies fly up together in +the bright summer air. The wedding journey is a picnic for hungry birds. +Just think of finding such a mass of juicy morsels at one time. They fly +into the crowd and eat as many of the ants as they can. But many escape. +At last they become exhausted. The males fall to the ground and die. The +queens break off their wings, because they never need them after the +wedding journey. + +"They look about for a good place to start a new home. The first thing +the queen does is to lay her eggs in a neat little pile. These soon +hatch out into larvæ; tiny, worm-like grubs without any legs. Queen +ants feed their babies faithfully with nice, tender insects, which they +chew for them. Sometimes these larvæ spin a tiny cocoon, in which +they lie quietly while they are being made over into ants--perhaps into +a queen, like the mother, or a male, like the father; perhaps into a +worker, which is the mainstay of the whole colony. This first family of +babies the queen mother must look out for herself, but just as soon as +the baby workers are grown up it is their turn to help her. + +"The first set of workers are very small. From morning until night they +are busy. Early in the morning they must go out for food, to catch +insects for the queen's breakfast and for the queen's baby ants. To be +sure, it does not take long to prepare this meal, as it is chewed for +the babies instead of cooked. Then the house must be set to rights, +extra grains of sand must be cleared out of the paths and galleries. +Perhaps some careless little girl or boy may have stepped on the mound +around the entrance and crushed it. The workers hurry to clear away the +ruins, and soon have a new mound neatly piled up. Tell us, Jack, what +you know about these workers." + +Jack's face was bright with eagerness. "Well, sir, in ant homes there +are always babies, lots of them, just as in other homes. These little +larvæ must be fed often and kept clean. The workers are the nurses as +well as housekeepers. If the babies happen to be in a cool, damp part of +the house they must be carried into a warmer, drier place. So the +workers pick them up and take them out for an airing. Often they carry +the little cocoons out into the warm sunshine or move them about from +place to place. In some families of ants there are some with very big +heads and strong jaws. These are the soldiers. If there is any trouble +in their village these big-headed fellows go out as scouts or act as +sentinels around the ant-hill. But the head of the worker is rather +small. It's a clever head, though, sir. On it are two antennæ, +bent, sir, like sharp little elbows. You told us that ants talk with +their antennæ. These feelers are very sensitive. I watched two ants +one day and saw them rubbing them together." + +"I am sure," said Ben Gile, "that some very exciting and interesting +conversations are carried on by these fellows." + +"Back of the head," continued Jack, "is the thorax, with the six legs, +then a very narrow piece joining the thorax and abdomen." + +"I know of one ant," added the guide, "who is nothing more or less than +a honey-jar. This honey-ant hangs by its legs from the roof of its home. +The little workers go out and visit the oak-trees and hunt around for +balls called oak galls. From these they get honey, which they carry home +and feed to the little fellows hanging on the ceiling by their heels. +The honey is stored away in their crops. All day these honey-jar ants +are fed, until the abdomens are as big as a currant, and the sweet, +yellow honey shines through the skin. When any of the family gets hungry +it crawls up to one of these fat little fellows and takes a refreshing +sip." + +"I know of another ant," began Jack, who could scarcely wait to begin, +"who lives in the home of a larger ant. This one builds small tunnels +connected with the large ones of the big ant, but is careful to make the +doorways so small that the big ones cannot creep in and eat up the +babies. When Little Ant gets hungry it crawls up on Big Ant's back. Very +gently it strokes its head, then licks its cheek until the mouth of Big +Ant fairly waters. This is just what Little Ant intends the mouth shall +do. It laps up the drop of sweetness, crawls down, climbs on the back of +another big ant, and has a second luncheon. Sometimes little thief ants +live in other ants' houses, stealing the food which the workers have +been so busy collecting all the long day." + +By this time the children were listening in open-eyed astonishment to +Jack, who had absorbed so much of the spirit and the information of the +old guide that he could talk almost as interestingly. + +"Mother aphids," interrupted Ben Gile, "who like corn very well, lay +their eggs at the roots of the corn. But if the babies hatch out before +the corn roots are ready there is a family of ants who come to the +rescue. They carry these babies over to some other roots, where they may +feed until the corn roots grow. Later they carry them carefully back +again. Of course, they do not do this because they care for the welfare +of the aphids, but because they know if the little corn lice have plenty +to eat they themselves will have plenty of honeydew, which they love." + +"And there's a harvester, sir, who builds a big mound around its front +door and carefully clears away the grass. Into the long galleries of its +home it carries a great many seeds, and stores them away. All the chaff +and hard parts which it cannot eat it carries out again." + +"Leading up to the big mound," added Ben Gile, "are clear pathways as +distinct as any path you or I make through the grassy fields. Perhaps +ants are too little to do very much thinking, but they do many things +which you and I would have to think about a long time before we should +be able to do them. They have a good government which runs along without +friction. They can build roads, dig tunnels, spin silken webs, build +sheds, go to war, harvest grain into the storehouses, and keep a farm of +aphids." + +By the time the old guide had finished Betty was waving her hand the way +she did in school. "Please, sir, I don't know half as much as Jack does. +He has told all I know, and more, too." + +Ben Gile smiled at Betty, for he was very fond of her. He stroked his +white beard, and went on smiling as if he had some pleasant thought in +the back of his head. "Well, now, we must decide who has won the prize. +Mrs. Reece, what do you think?" + +Mrs. Reece was proud of her Betty, and would rather have had her the +generous little girl she was than have her win all the prizes in the +world. "I think Jack has abundantly earned the prize." + +"And now, children, what do you think?" + +"Jack!" they all shouted. + +"Jack," said the guide, bringing forward three parcels, "here is the +five-dollar gold piece--this will help you buy what you need; here is +the book, which will help you to identify what you see; and here is the +magnifying-glass. Remember, my boy, as you look through it, that it is +God's work you are seeing. We have been through the old story of 'Eyes +and No Eyes' with you boys. Peter, I'm afraid, goes out and sees +nothing. You, Jack, have used your eyes, and already you have learned +much that ought to make you a wiser man. As you look through the glass +it is well to reflect that you will never see a cathedral window as +beautiful as some wings you look upon, from the clear lights of the +cicada's wing to the gorgeous dyes of the moth. You will never see groin +or arch or hinge more wonderful than the covers of a wing or the +exquisite joint of some little insect. You may travel the world over +before you can find, made by man's hand, such mystery and beauty as lie +about you in the natural world. All the dynasties of Egypt could not +shape the scale on a moth's wing. All the religion of the past can shape +nothing that will do the Creator so much reverence as the world He has +created, the world we have about us. There, my boy, that is a long +sermon, but you will profit by it, for the world will hear of you yet. + +"And now there's a little girl in this room who has worked faithfully to +find out what she could. She is five years younger than you, Jack, and I +want her to have something, too." + +For a minute Jack looked troubled; then he said, resolutely, "Let me +give her my book, sir." + +"No, no, Jack," replied Ben Gile, pleased with the lad's generosity. "I +have an extra book here." Betty's face was beaming. "Now let me write in +your books; then to supper, around our last camp-fire for this summer." + +In a few minutes the children were about the fire, and there was the +smell of roasting corn, the sizzle of broiling partridge tied around +with bacon, and the fragrance of coffee for the older people. The +firelight seemed particularly jolly. Betty was very happy with her book +(nor would she be parted from it the next day on the train), and Jack +was radiant. They ate and talked and sang about the camp-fire, thought +Ben Gile the wisest man in the world, Mrs. Reece the kindest of mothers, +hoped that next year would come soon, and wanted to know what stories +they were to hear when the long winter was over. + +"Perhaps it will be birds," said the guide; "perhaps fish; perhaps +flowers; maybe it will be spiders and crabs. Next summer is a long way +off. And now I have to go back to my school." + +In a short time a line of lanterns was seen swinging and dancing up the +hill of Rangeley as the children filed homeward. The summer was over. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE BUSYBODIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 21948-8.txt or 21948-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Little Busybodies</p> +<p> The Life of Crickets, Ants, Bees, Beetles, and Other Busybodies</p> +<p>Author: Jeanette Augustus Marks and Julia Moody</p> +<p>Release Date: June 27, 2007 [eBook #21948]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE BUSYBODIES***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:600px'> +<a name="illus-000" id="illus-000"></a> +<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt="insect pictures" width='400' title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<span style="font-size:smaller; font-family: arial, 'lucida console', sans-serif">E. L. Beutenmuller</span><br /> +1. Cicada Killer<span class='space'> </span> +2. May-fly<span class='space'> </span> +3. Lacewing-fly<span class='space'> </span> +4. Dragon-fly<span class='space'> </span> +5. Aphis<span class='space'> </span><br /> +6. June-Beetle<span class='space'> </span> +7. Cicada<span class='space'> </span> +8. Lady-Beetle<span class='space'> </span> +9. Mole Cricket</span><br /> +</div> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<table style="margin: auto; border: black 1px solid; width: 400px;" summary=""><tr><td> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 220%; margin-top:30px;">LITTLE</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 220%; margin-bottom:10px;">BUSYBODIES</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 90%;">THE LIFE OF CRICKETS, ANTS, BEES</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 90%; margin-bottom:10px;">BEETLES, AND OTHER BUSYBODIES</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%;">BY</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 110%;">JEANNETTE MARKS</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%;">AND</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 110%;">JULIA MOODY</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:20px;">OF MOUNT HOLYOKE COLLEGE</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:30px;">ILLUSTRATED</p> +<div style='text-align: center'> + <img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' /> +</div> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top:50px;">HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%;">NEW YORK AND LONDON</p> +<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:30px;letter-spacing:0.2em;">MCMIX</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<table style="margin: auto; border: silver 1px dashed; width: 400px;" summary=""><tr><td> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-top:20px; margin-bottom:10px;">STORY-TOLD SCIENCE</p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:10px;">FOR CHILDREN FROM EIGHT TO FOURTEEN YEARS OF AGE</p> +<hr style='width: 20%;' /> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px;"><i>Other Books for the Series:</i></p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;"><span class="smcap">CRUSTY COUSINS: Crabs, Spiders, etc.</span></p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;"><span class="smcap">SHELL DWELLERS AND URCHINS: Clams, Oysters, Snails, Starfish, Sea Urchins</span></p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;"><span class="smcap">HATCHING WATER BABIES: Fish and Frogs</span></p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;">BIRD WITS</p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;">LITTLE MAMMALS</p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:left;">FLOWERS</p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:10px;">A series intended to cover simple types of plant and animal life, arranged in logical order</p> +<hr style='width: 20%;' /> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:20px;">HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y.</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div style="margin-top: 30px;"></div> + +<table style="margin: auto; border: silver 1px dashed; width: 200px;" summary=""><tr><td> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%; margin-top: 20px;">Copyright, 1909, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>.</p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%;"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> +<p class="titlepage2" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom:20px;">Published April, 1909.</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h2 class="toc"><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> + +<div style='font-size:smaller'> +<table border="0" width="600" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> +<col style="width:7%;" /> +<col style="width:3%;" /> +<col style="width:80%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr> + <td align="right"><span style='font-size:x-small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"></td> + <td align="right"><span style='font-size:x-small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right"></td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>A Word to the Children and the Wise</span></td> + <td align="right"><a href="#page_v">v</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">I</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>The Journey</span></td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_JOURNEY_190">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">II</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Rangeley Village</span></td> + <td align="right"><a href="#RANGELEY_VILLAGE_414">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">III</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>The Little Army</span> (Locusts and Grasshoppers)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_ARMY_612">21</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">IV</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Fiddlers</span> (Crickets)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#FIDDLERS_873">34</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">V</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>How Katy Did</span> (Katydids)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#HOW_KATY_DID_1058">43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VI</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Fishing</span> (Dragon-flies)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#FISHING_1203">50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VII</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>The Swimming-Pool</span> (The May-fly)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_SWIMMING-POOL_1428">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VIII</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>The Rainy Day</span> (Leaf and Tree Hoppers)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_RAINY_DAY_1545">68</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">IX</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>The Prize</span> (Lace-Wing, Ant-Lion, and Caddis-Worm) </td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_PRIZE_1723">77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">X</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>A Nagging Family</span> (Flies and Mosquitoes)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_NAGGING_FAMILY_1990">90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XI</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Camping Out</span> (Butterflies and Moths)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CAMPING_OUT_2237">103</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XII</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Camp-In-The-Clouds</span> (Butterflies and Moths, continued)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS_2442">114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XIII</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Storm-Bound</span> (Beetles)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#STORM-BOUND_2582">122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XIV</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>A Day'S Hunting</span> (Bees)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_DAYS_HUNTING_2847">136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XV</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Leaving Camp</span> (Wasps)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#LEAVING_CAMP_3182">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XVI</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left"><span class='smcap'>Eyes And No Eyes</span> (Ants)</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#EYES_AND_NO_EYES_3442">167</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class='blkquot'><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—We do not think it practicable to give classifications except as +they exist unnamed in the above titles: (1) straight winged: locusts, +grasshoppers, crickets, katydids; (2) tooth-shaped: dragon-flies; (3) +ephemerals: may-flies; (4) half-winged: leaf and tree hoppers; (5) +nerve-winged: lace-wings, ant-lions, and caddis-worms; (6) two-winged: +flies and mosquitoes; (7) scaly winged: butterflies and moths; (8) +sheath-winged: beetles; (9) membranous-winged: bees, wasps, and ants.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<div> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_v" id="page_v" title="v"></a> +<h3>A WORD TO THE CHILDREN AND THE WISE</h3> +</div> + +<p>We hope that the children who read this book will like the boys and +girls who are in it. They are real, and the good times they have are +real, as any boy or girl who has lived out-of-doors will know. And the +stories are true. Peter is not always good. But do you expect a child +<i>always</i> to be good? We do not. Sometimes, too, the frolics turn into a +scramble to catch a dragon-fly that will not be caught, and there are +accidents. Also, Betty and Jack work hard to win a prize which the guide +gives to the child who learns most about ants.</p> + +<p>Of course it would be impossible for five children to go in search of +locusts, grasshoppers, crickets, katydids, dragon-flies, May-flies, +leaf-hoppers, lace-wings, caddis-worms, butterflies, beetles, bees, +wasps—and so many other six-legged creatures that among them they have +wings and legs enough to fill a new Pandora's<a class="pagenum" name="page_vi" id="page_vi" title="vi"></a> +box—without having a +good deal happen. And a good deal does happen. It is all true enough, +and every word about the six-legged busybodies is true as true. The +other books, too, that come after this in our <i>Story-Told Science +Series</i> will be every word true.</p> + +<p>And we who wrote this book? Well, we, too, have been children. We used +to climb trees and turn somersaults; why—But that is another story! And +we remember so well what it used to be like to have to learn dull things +we did not wish to know. So we said to ourselves, as we looked over our +spectacles at each other, "No, they sha'n't be told a single +uninteresting fact; they sha'n't be dull, poor dears, as we were so long +ago, before we put on spectacles and began to call ourselves wise."</p> + +<p>And so, although we sat down and wrote a book just about long enough for +a school-year's work; although we felt very proud because our stories +had more wonderful six-legged creatures than any book written for +children; although we took pains to have in the book only such little +creatures as any one of us could see any day; although we hoped that +mothers and teachers would say, "At last, this is a book the children +and I can like and find useful!"<a class="pagenum" name="page_vii" id="page_vii" title="vii"></a> or, "There, that will help as a +starting-point to tell about the bees and the flowers!" or, "This story +about the flies will teach the children what it means to be clean!" +Although, I say, we hoped all these things, yet our chief hope was that +we might give all sorts of children a good time.</p> + +<p>So we put our spectacles on and looked very wise, and took a quantity of +ink on our pens and began to write. And we wrote and wrote and wrote. +And part of the time, while one of us was writing and hoping the stories +would be so interesting the children would want to write about them, +too, the other was drawing and labelling each sketch so plainly that any +child could understand it, even if the ears were quite where they could +not be expected to be, or there were more eyes than, seemingly, one +creature ought to have, or wings and legs served to make music, as no +sensible child could possibly guess.</p> + +<p>And now we can't do better than wish you a good time before we say +good-bye. We wish you to enjoy all the frolics, to feel how jolly it is +to be out-of-doors in the woods and fields and lakes, climbing, +canoeing, picnicing, and swimming.</p> + +<p>But still more, we hope that you will realize that more wonderful than +the most wonderful fairy story ever told is the marvel of the created +life of these little insects; we want you to come to know something of +their joys and troubles; we want you to learn how to be kind to them, +and how they may be useful to you; and we want you to find out for +yourselves the places they take in the great plan of creation.</p> + +<p>In other words, we want you to think and feel about the lives of these +six-legged busybodies, and see for yourselves how much even a butterfly +can add to the interest and beauty of living. Does this seem a little +bit like a sermon? Well, you see, we forgot we had kept on our +spectacles so long, and somehow spectacles always turn into sermons. +Perhaps it is because both begin with the letter S.</p> + +<p>And now this is all of our short word to the wise. We expect to make +each one of our books better than the last, and you can help us to do +this by writing any suggestions you may have. We shall be glad to hear +from children, big or little.</p> + +<p style='text-align:right'>J. M. and J. M.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">South Hadley, Massachusetts</span>,<br /> +<i>January 27, 1909.</i></p> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h1>LITTLE BUSYBODIES</h1> + +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_1" id="page_1" title="1"></a> +<a name="THE_JOURNEY_190" id="THE_JOURNEY_190"></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h3>THE JOURNEY</h3> +</div> + +<p>"It will be stories all summer, won't it?" said Betty to her mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> + +<p>"And hunting, too?" said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Hunting with your new gun and hunting with your camera."</p> + +<p>Jimmie unfastened the case of his new camera and looked in. What a +beautiful one it was, and what pictures he meant to take, and how the +camera would impress Ben Gile! Jimmie looked about proudly. He knew no +other boy in that whole great train had a camera like the one his father +had given him.</p> + +<p>"Mother, when will it be lunch?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Luncheon so soon!"<a class="pagenum" name="page_2" id="page_2" title="2"></a></p> + +<p>"I'm as hungry as a bear," declared Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"And hear Kitty mewing; she's hungry, too." Betty looked at the big +round basket, whose cover kept restlessly stirring.</p> + +<p>"Did you leave something in the baggage-car for Max to eat?" Mrs. Reece +asked Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, mum. It's one o'clock; can't we have something now?"</p> + +<p>"As late as that! No wonder you chickens are hungry for—"</p> + +<p>"Chicken!" squealed Betty.</p> + +<p>"And ham sandwiches!" added Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"And chocolate cake!"</p> + +<p>"And root-beer!"</p> + +<p>"And peppermints!"</p> + +<p>"Ssh!" said Mrs. Reece, "or every one in the car will know what little +piggies you are. Ask Lizzie for the basket."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src="images/illus-003.jpg" alt="insect picture" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Outer wing of locust.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>B.</i> Inner wing of locust.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Sideview of locust.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>D.</i> Hind leg of locust.<br /> +<i>a.</i> Antenna.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>b.</i> Simple eye.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>c.</i> Compound eye.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>d.</i> Thorax.<br /> +<i>e.</i> Abdomen.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>f.</i> Breathing pore.<span class='space'> </span> +<i>g.</i> Ear. +</span> +</div> + +<p>Every minute the air was growing cooler. The children could smell the +pine woods, and once in a while the train flashed by a great big +sawmill, or a lake set like a sapphire in the deep green of the forests. +And the hills were rolling nearer and nearer in great shadows. The +children ate their luncheon contentedly, looking out of the windows and +thinking of the mountains there would be to climb, the ponds,<a class="pagenum" name="page_5" id="page_5" title="5"></a> the +streams to fish, the pictures to take, and the stories they were to hear +the summer long.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Betty, eating her second piece of chocolate +cake—"mother, what will Ben Gile tell us this summer?"</p> + +<p>"Let me see," said her mother, "perhaps it will be about the little +creatures—grasshoppers and katydids, butterflies and bees."</p> + +<p>"Goody!"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Jimmie, "I don't see what you want to know of those old +things. I'd much rather hear about porcupines. There isn't anything to +say about a grasshopper except that it hops."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there, my son? Well, that shows that you don't use your eyes. +Suppose some one said there was nothing to say about you except that you +whistle?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what is there about an old grasshopper, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but Ben will."</p> + +<p>"But tell us something, mum," urged Jimmie, who loved his mother dearly, +and was certain she knew more than anybody else, in part because she had +been to college, but chiefly because she was his mother.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," said Mrs. Reece, "I shall have<a class="pagenum" name="page_6" id="page_6" title="6"></a> to think about it." Both +of the children came as close to her as they could, while she continued:</p> + +<p>"What a strange world it would be if there were no insects in it! We +should have no little crickets chirping in the sunny fields or in the +dark corners and cracks of our houses. There would be no katydids +singing all night, no clacking of the locusts in the tall grass along +dusty roads, no drowsy hum of bees. There would be no little ants and +big ants digging out underground tunnels and carrying the grains of sand +as far from their doorways as possible. There would be no brightly +colored moths and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. We should +find no sparkling fairy webs spun anew for us every morning."</p> + +<p>"But, mother, all these creatures aren't insects," said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are, dear. It is hard to believe that they all belong to the +same family called insecta, but they do."</p> + +<p>"Mother, what's that word mean?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't mean anything more than cut up into parts. You see, Betty, +all these insect bodies are made up of separate rings joined nicely +together. If you look carefully you will find that behind the head there +is another distinct<a class="pagenum" name="page_7" id="page_7" title="7"></a> part. This is called the thorax, which means chest. +Behind that there is a pointed part of the body, which is called the +abdomen. Then, if you look again, you will see that all these little +creatures are alike in that they have six jointed legs."</p> + +<p>"And are they all good, like the bee and the butterfly?" asked Betty, +who wasn't always a good little girl herself, and who thought it would +be much nicer if insects were naughty sometimes.</p> + +<p>"Not all, dear," answered Mrs. Reece; "some do us real service, but +others are troublesome; insects are such hungry little fellows, and they +don't have chocolate cake every day to keep them from getting hungry. +They are hungry when they are babies and hungry when they grow up. Some +eat all they can see—like a little boy I know—and some prefer the +tender leaves and twigs. Some care only for the sweet sap flowing into +the new leaves and buds. And still others like best the tender new roots +of plants."</p> + +<p>"Mother, what are the baddest ones?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Pooh! I know," said Jimmie; "the beetles are, because they eat +everything. Why, they'd<a class="pagenum" name="page_8" id="page_8" title="8"></a> eat the buttons off your coat or the nose off +your face or—"</p> + +<p>"Jim! Jim! do tell the truth! The beetles, and bugs, too, are the most +troublesome. Many of the bugs are such tiny little creatures that it is +hard to realize that they can hurt a plant. But bugs have sucking beaks. +With these beaks they bore into the leaves or the buds of the plant, and +then by means of tiny muscles at the back of the mouth they pump up the +sap. To be sure, one little pump could do no harm; but think of millions +of little sucking beaks, millions of little pumps busy at work on a +single plant! Do you remember the pansies mother had in the winter, and +how they were all covered by green plant-lice? Well, those are bugs +called aphids. You remember they were pale green, just the color of the +plant, and so transparent and soft they looked most harmless. The scale +insects are very troublesome, too, but mother doesn't know anything +about them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what <i>they</i> are," announced Jimmie, "they get into the fruit +trees."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes onto shrubs, too. Mother has heard of a scale insect out +in California which has been a great nuisance to fruit-growers. A +certain ladybug finds this cottony-cushion<a class="pagenum" name="page_9" id="page_9" title="9"></a> scale a tender morsel, so +many ladybugs were taken out there to help the owners of the fruit farms +get rid of the scale."</p> + +<p>"Did they carry them all the way out, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Jimmie; "they got a Pullman car for them, and Mr. and +Mrs. Ladybug and family travelled in style."</p> + +<p>"Mother, tell Jim to be still." Betty, not unlike other little sisters, +hated to be teased by her brother.</p> + +<p>"And now, let me see," said Mrs. Reece. "I don't know that I can tell +you any more until I know more myself. Yes, I do know what baby beetles +are called. They are called grubs, and they live in the ground until it +is time for them to turn into grown-up beetles. While they are babies +they eat as much and as fast as they can, as no baby but a beetle +should. The more they eat the sooner they come out into the bright world +as a June-bug or some other kind of beetle. They eat all the tender +little roots they can find. This is very nice—"</p> + +<p>"For Mary Ann, but rather hard on Abraham."</p> + +<p>"You horrid boy," said Betty, "you don't even let me hear a story in +peace! It's very nice what, mother?"<a class="pagenum" name="page_10" id="page_10" title="10"></a></p> + +<p>"It's very nice for the little grubs, but it's rather hard on the +plants, for if too many roots are nibbled away the plants die. The +caterpillars are great eaters, too."</p> + +<p>Betty leaned over and whispered something to her mother; then they both +giggled.</p> + +<p>"I know what you're saying," said Jimmie, but after that he was quieter.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes a caterpillar will thrive on just one kind of a plant; it may +be carrot, it may be milkweed. On that it feeds until it has grown as +large as possible. Then it spins itself a nice silken cocoon, or rolls +itself up in a soft leaf and takes a long, long nap. And now it is time +for us to take a nap, too, for we shall soon reach Bemis, and then there +will be still two long lakes to cross and a carry to walk."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_11" id="page_11" title="11"></a> +<a name="RANGELEY_VILLAGE_414" id="RANGELEY_VILLAGE_414"></a> +<h2>II</h2> +<h3>RANGELEY VILLAGE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The next morning great was the stir in the town, for it was known by the +village children that Betty and Jimmie had come, and by the grown-ups +that Mrs. Reece was there. All winter long the children had looked +forward to their coming, for it meant jolly times: picnics, parties, +expeditions, and games. Then, too, Ben Gile would begin to tell them +wonderful things. Through the winter he had been teaching school, and it +was only when the ice broke up in the big lake and the beavers decided +to stop sleeping that Ben Gile came back to his guiding.</p> + +<p>There was great excitement about Turtle Lodge. Lizzie kept flying out +with rugs, and then forgetting they hadn't been brushed and flying in +again. The cat was playing croquet with the balls and spools of an open +work-basket, and Max had discovered an old straw<a class="pagenum" name="page_12" id="page_12" title="12"></a> hat which tasted very +good to him. Only Mrs. Reece kept her head and stayed indoors, moving +about quietly from room to room, putting the house in that beautiful +order which little children never think about.</p> + +<p>Out on the grass that sloped down to the street, which, in its turn, +tumbled head over heels down to the lake, Betty and Jimmie were playing +with their playmates. They were all so wild with joy that every time +Jimmie saw another boy he shouted, "Come over!" when the boy was coming, +anyway, just as fast as he could.</p> + +<p>Up, up from the foot of the lake climbed an old man; up, up, up the +steep street he came, his white hair shaking and shining in the brisk +June breeze, his long, white beard caught every once in a while by the +wind and tossed sideways.</p> + +<p>"Mother," called Jimmie, "Ben Gile is coming!"</p> + +<p>Out came Mrs. Reece to greet the old man.</p> + +<p>Then, one by one, the children spoke with Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>"You're having a good time before you can say Jack Robinson, aren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," came in a chorus of voices. Then, "Tell us a story; tell us +a story!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-002" id="illus-002"></a> +<img src="images/illus-013.jpg" alt="eye and brain" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> A few facets of the compound eye of an insect.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Brain and nerve cord of an insect. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_15" id="page_15" title="15"></a>"Not +to-day," said the old man. "Why, you want a story before you've had +time to turn around."</p> + +<p>Betty stuck her head out from behind her mother. "Mother said you would +tell us about crickets and moths, and everything."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, well," murmured the old man, "did she? But I can't tell a +story to-day. I'll tell you, though, something, so that when you come to +collect the little creatures you'll know what to do. All sit down."</p> + +<p>They all sat down cross-legged on the ground, the old man in the middle.</p> + +<p>"Here, you big Jim-boy, catch me that butterfly."</p> + +<p>There was a wild rush, and the bright wings were soon caught.</p> + +<p>"There, you've torn off one of its legs," said the old man.</p> + +<p>Jimmie looked troubled. "I didn't mean to, sir."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how it hurts to have your leg torn off, boy? Do you know, +children?"</p> + +<p>"No," came in a chorus.</p> + +<p>The guide took out a piece of paper and drew a picture on it. "There, +every part of that little fellow's body I've drawn has muscles, such +fine muscles no naked eye could ever see them.<a class="pagenum" name="page_16" id="page_16" title="16"></a> I'll show them to you +under the microscope in my cabin. Those muscles move the body, and each +muscle is controlled by threads, still more fine, called nerves."</p> + +<p>The old man reached out like a flash and pinched Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Ouch!" cried the boy, and there was a shout of laughter from the +children.</p> + +<p>"You felt that?"</p> + +<p>"I guess I did," said Jim, sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's because you're made something the same way this butterfly +is. When anything hurts us it's because some of our nerves are hurt, and +quick as a flash the news travels to the brain, and we try to get away +from the thing that causes pain—a pinch, perhaps, or, still worse, the +hurt of a poor leg that has been torn off."</p> + +<p>"But a butterfly hasn't any brain," objected Jimmie, who was still +cross.</p> + +<p>"Hasn't it? Well, we'll see. Now, you watch my pencil." He pointed to +the head of the butterfly. "This little fellow has a very tiny brain +there. Also running through the body, from end to end, is a little tube +through which the food passes. It is in the head above this tube where +the tiny brain is, and from which two little<a class="pagenum" name="page_17" id="page_17" title="17"></a> threads run down around +the tube and join to form another little knot of nerve cells like that +of the brain. Then, from this second one there runs a series of little +knots united by fine threads the entire length of the body, one in each +ring of the body. Do you understand that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," piped up Betty, "mother told us an insect is made up of rings, +and—and—" she stammered, surprised at her own boldness, "the word +means cut up into parts."</p> + +<p>"Good! Why, that's a real bright girl. Well, from each one of these +knots nerves go to the muscles of the body."</p> + +<p>"It's just like a lot of beads on a string," said Hope Stanton.</p> + +<p>"So it is, child. So, you see, if we handle an insect roughly, squeezing +it too hard, or breaking a leg or a wing, a message is sent to one of +these little beads or knots or nerve cells, and the poor, helpless +creature suffers pain."</p> + +<p>"But I didn't mean to hurt that butterfly!"</p> + +<p>"No, of course you didn't. The only way to do," said the old man, "is to +catch them in a net. Make it of bobinet with a rounded bottom, sewing it +to a wire ring and fastening it to a handle that is the right weight and +length for your arm."<a class="pagenum" name="page_18" id="page_18" title="18"></a></p> + +<p>"But then, after you caught it, how could you keep it, sir?" asked +Betty.</p> + +<p>"There are two merciful ways," said the old man, "of killing insects, +but neither way is safe for children to try. Put a few drops of +chloroform on a piece of cotton under a tumbler turned upside down. Put +the insect inside. It will soon fall asleep without pain. The other is a +cyanide bottle. I have one down at the cabin. It must be kept tightly +corked and never smelled. The cyanide in the bottle is hard and dry. +Several insects may be put into the bottle at the same time. Once there +they die very quickly. After large insects are killed the wings should +be folded over the back, and they should be placed in a little case like +this. See, I'm folding a piece of paper to form a three-cornered case. +Then I bend down one edge to keep the little case closed."</p> + +<p>At this moment out flew Lizzie with a curtain which she was going to +shake.</p> + +<p>"Here, here!" shouted the old man, "don't shake that; catch that +caterpillar on it. I want it."</p> + +<p>Lizzie made a good-natured grab at the caterpillar, and then there was a +cry of pain. "Oh, begorra, begorra, I'm stung by a wasp, I am!<a class="pagenum" name="page_19" id="page_19" title="19"></a> Ow!" But +she still kept tight hold of the caterpillar as she danced about.</p> + +<p>"No," said the guide, "you're not stung by any wasp. Bring me that! +There, open your hand. You see, the caterpillar stung you."</p> + +<p>"Oh my, what a beauty!" exclaimed the children. "But caterpillars don't +sting."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, they do," continued Ben Gile, with a twinkle in his eye; "ask +Lizzie." Lizzie was looking at the palm of her hand, which showed how +badly it had been stung.</p> + +<p>"Now, you see, we'll need something to pick up these little creatures +with—a pair of forceps or something of that kind. At least, you must be +very careful."</p> + +<p>"And what else do we need?" asked the children.</p> + +<p>"A little hand lens will magnify the small parts of an insect a great +deal. It will show you all the tiny hairs on the body, and the little +rings and the feelers and the facets of the eyes, and many another +wonderful thing."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to put the bugs in?" inquired Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Lizzie will get you a small wooden box," said Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>Lizzie went off grumbling something about<a class="pagenum" name="page_20" id="page_20" title="20"></a> guides and bites and insects, +but soon she came back with a nice box, and in a minute all the +children's heads were clustered about Ben Gile as he showed them how to +line the box with a layer of cork, how to steam the insects a little if +they were dry, and then how to put the long, slender pins through the +chest of the insect and stick it into the cork.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_21" id="page_21" title="21"></a> +<a name="THE_LITTLE_ARMY_612" id="THE_LITTLE_ARMY_612"></a> +<h2>III</h2> +<h3>THE LITTLE ARMY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Ben Gile shook his head. As his hair was long and white, and his hands +moved with his head, just as if he were a lot of dried branches moving +in the wind, it was enough to frighten little Betty. "Plagues of Egypt! +Plagues of Egypt!" he kept muttering. Now, Betty had been to school a +long time—I think it must have been as much as two whole years, which +is a very <i>long</i> time for school and a very <i>short</i> time for climbing +trees—now, Betty had been to school and knew better. She crept behind a +big beech-tree, but she stuck her little head out and said, in a +trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"It was locusts, sir, wasn't it—and wild honey?"</p> + +<p>Betty wasn't at all certain that any kind of honey could be a plague.</p> + +<p>"It was locusts, child—yes, you're right," answered the old man. +"Locusts it was; but you eat wild honey."<a class="pagenum" name="page_22" id="page_22" title="22"></a></p> + +<p>Betty came out from behind the tree and whispered, "You eat them +<i>both</i>?"</p> + +<p>"So men did in the Bible," said Ben Gile, and washing his sugar-pails, +and putting his maple sugar camp—a very sweet place for a little girl +to be when there are still piles of maple sugar packed away on the +shelves—in order for the summer.</p> + +<p>In all her short life Betty had never known another old man like him. In +the winter he taught school; in spring he made maple sugar; in summer he +was guiding about the ponds or looking up into the trees most of the +time; and in the fall he cut wood before he went back to teaching; but +what was oddest of all to Betty was that he knew the squirrels and deer +and rabbits as well as he seemed to know little girls or little boys. +There was a story told in those woods about his taming even a trout so +that one morning it hopped out of the water and followed him everywhere +he went—hop, hop, flop behind him. And in the evening, as Ben Gile and +his tame trout were passing by the pond again, the trout fell in and was +drowned. But, dear me, that is a fish story, and you mustn't believe any +fish stories whatever except those your father tells! Still, if your +grandpa is fond of fishing, you may believe his fish stories, too.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-003" id="illus-003"></a> +<img src="images/illus-023.jpg" alt="locust" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> A locust.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Cast-off skin of a young locust. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_25" id="page_25" title="25"></a>Betty +came out farther from behind the tree. "Please, sir, do <i>you</i> eat +grasshoppers?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, my dear." The old man's eyes twinkled. "I knew a little boy +once"—Betty was wondering whether this old man had ever been a little +boy himself—"I knew a little boy once who wasn't afraid to swallow even +a caterpillar, but I think that little boy never thought of eating a +grasshopper." The old man shook his head gravely. "No, not a +grasshopper."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," said Betty, coming right up to the bucket he was washing +in the brook—"please, sir, do you know any stories about grasshoppers?"</p> + +<p>Ben Gile laid his finger along his nose and thought. Betty was sure he +knew a hundred million stories, and that he could tell her something +about anything she might ask for in all the world.</p> + +<p>"Well, once upon a time," the old man began, "there was another old man +who was a great deal wiser than I am, and a great deal richer, my dear, +for he owned a whole kingdom and lived in a palace, and his name was—"<a class="pagenum" name="page_26" id="page_26" title="26"></a></p> + +<p>"Solomon!" called out Betty, dancing up and down, out of pride in her +own wisdom.</p> + +<p>"Right! And this other old man said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"There are four things which are little upon the +earth, but they are exceedingly wise:</p> +<p>"The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their meat in the summer;</p> +<p>"The conies are but a feeble folk, yet make they their houses in the rocks;</p> +<p>"The locusts have no king, yet go they forth all of them by bands;</p> +<p>"The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in kings' palaces."</p> +</div> + +<p>"But that's not a story."</p> + +<p>The guide shook his head. "You don't know a story, child, when you hear +one. It began, 'Once upon a time,' didn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; but please tell me another."</p> + +<p>"Well, there are others in the Bible, my dear, about locusts and +grasshoppers."</p> + +<p>"But, please, sir," said Betty, who was almost ready to cry, she was so +teased—"please tell me one of your <i>own</i> stories."</p> + +<p>Ben Gile began to swash his bucket up and down, up and down, in the +stream until the water fairly rocked. Then he pulled the bucket out of +the water, set it beside him, and reached out after a locust.<a class="pagenum" name="page_27" id="page_27" title="27"></a></p> + +<p>"Here he is." There was a long pause. Betty thought he would never go +on. "Well, once upon a time there was a little army and all its uniforms +were brown and green, and from the meanest soldier in the ranks to the +lieutenant-commander this little army was made up of insects who +belonged to the same tribe. Let me see—there were the grasshoppers and +the locusts and the katydids and the crickets."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, were they cousins?"</p> + +<p>"I think they were, my dear. Yes, first cousins, and, unlike even my +first cousins, they all have wings, and straight wings like this."</p> + +<p>The guide gently spread out one of the wings.</p> + +<p>"Just where the back of your chest is these wings grow—two pairs of +wings, my dear, and two pairs of wings mean a good deal more than two +pairs of new shoes. This first pair is straight and narrow and hard, +because it is meant to cover the gauzy wings underneath. Puff!"</p> + +<p>Away flew the locust.</p> + +<p>"You see, he doesn't use his first pair, but holds them out straight +from his body while he spreads out the gauzy ones like a—like a—"</p> + +<p>"Fan!" shouted Betty, quite forgetting the tiny squirrel who had come up +near her, and, at<a class="pagenum" name="page_28" id="page_28" title="28"></a> her shout, nearly jumped out of his little red +jacket.</p> + +<p>"A yellow fan," said the old man. "And some have a red fan. Well, I +think," said he, reaching for his pail, "there isn't going to be any +more of this story."</p> + +<p>"Not any more? But there must be more, sir; I've seen hundreds and +hundreds of them on a dusty road, and, please, they're just the color of +the dirt."</p> + +<p>The guide shook his head. "Not to-day."</p> + +<p>By this time Betty was so eager to have him go on that she had forgotten +all about being afraid of him. "And when they whir up from the road, +sir, they say, 'Clack! clack! clack!'"</p> + +<p>The old man made a sound like the noise of a locust.</p> + +<p>"How does it make its mouth move, sir?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't make its mouth move, child. It makes the noise by striking +the edges of the gauzy wings and hard wing covers together. See, this +way!" And the old man struck his arm and leg together. "It has another +fiddle, too, which it uses when it makes the long, rasping, drowsy sound +of summer days. Then it rubs the rough edges of its hind leg against the +edge of its wing-cover."<a class="pagenum" name="page_29" id="page_29" title="29"></a></p> + +<p>"Please, is it happy, then?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Just as happy as a healthy locust, who lives in long, sweet-smelling +grass and is contented with his own singing, can be, and that is very +happy."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Betty, "it doesn't use its mouth, then? Jimmie said it did."</p> + +<p>"Jimmie's a stupid boy. See this fellow." The old man held the locust +toward Betty. "With its upper lip, broad, you see; and there is the +lower lip made in two scallops, and there's a short feeler on either +side, and another pair of soft jaws with a feeler. Hidden away under +those parts is a pair of dark-brown, horny jaws which open like two big +swinging gates."</p> + +<p>"What makes them so big?"</p> + +<p>"The better to eat you with, my dear." The guide worked his jaws until +Betty, half afraid and half pleased, screamed and ran behind a tree. +"Oh, how they can eat!" growled the old man, "more than any little girl +or boy I ever knew! Years and years ago, when your mamma was a baby, +they mounted up into the air from the Rocky Mountains and flew eastward +in a great cloud. Down they swooped upon the fertile valleys in rustling +hordes, and ate everything in sight—grass, grains, vegetables, and +bushes.<a class="pagenum" name="page_30" id="page_30" title="30"></a> They ate and ate and ate until they had eaten up fifty million +dollars' worth of food, and the poor farmer could hear nothing but the +sound of the chewing of those ever-swinging jaws. Now, be off, little +girl, or my pails won't be clean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, sir, just tell me how they jump and breathe."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, see this fellow!" He had wet a little grain of maple sugar, +and a tiny meadow grasshopper which had alighted on his knee was pushing +the sweet stuff into its mouth with both fore legs. "Child, you must +never," said the old man, savagely, "push your food in that way."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," answered Betty, "I never do, because I eat with my fork +and my knife. Please, sir, are they happy when they jump?"</p> + +<p>"Looks like a horse, doesn't it?" asked the old man. "It's made for +jumping. Think of all the training it takes to make a jumper of your +brother at school. Well, this chap can jump ten times as far. It's born +with a better jump than the longest-legged boy you ever saw. But the +locust might get its head cut off when jumping if it weren't for this +little saddle that covers the soft part of the neck. Mr. Locust<a class="pagenum" name="page_31" id="page_31" title="31"></a> can't +always look before he leaps, as a little girl can, and the knife edge of +a blade of grass would cut its head right off if it weren't for this +saddle. See, here are its long leaping-legs, and on the back edge of +these are some spines to keep it from slipping, and the feet are padded +with several soft little cushions that keep it from chin-chopping itself +to pieces when it lands after a long jump. And here, my dear, are little +rest-legs just behind the front legs. With these Mr. Locust hangs on to +a blade of grass when tired—a fine idea, child; every little boy and +girl ought to have some rest-legs like the locust. And the locust has +some extra eyes, too."</p> + +<p>Ben Gile was going so fast now that Betty was listening to him, mouth +open, as he pointed with a blade of grass to one thing after another.</p> + +<p>"You see, the locust has two big eyes, and there in the middle of the +forehead it has three little eyes, and with five eyes there isn't much +it can't see. And here on the body are two tiny shining oval windows. +These are ear-laps, and that, my dear, is the way it hears. And upon the +sides of the body (the thorax—that is, just the chest) and his abdomen +are tiny holes. The air enters through these, and that is the way Mr. +Locust breathes."<a class="pagenum" name="page_32" id="page_32" title="32"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh," said Betty, "then it hasn't got any nose? I thought everything in +the world had a nose."</p> + +<p>"And this little body," the old man went on, "is as strong as a grub +hoe. With it the locust makes holes in fence rails, logs, stumps, and +the earth, and in those holes mother locust lays her eggs. See, those +four spines are for boring holes. With these Mrs. Locust bores a hole in +the ground, and then with these same spines she guides the bundles of +eggs into the hole and covers them up with a gummy stuff. There the eggs +stay until next spring, when, my dear, out comes a little hopper with no +wings, and this little hopper is called a nymph. It grows and splits its +skin, grows and splits its skin, and with its new skin—it has five or +six skins, and leaves all its old clothes hanging around on the +bushes—its wings grow bigger and bigger. At last it flies off just as +its mother and father did a year ago."</p> + +<p>Ben Gile tossed the locust into the air and called out, "Shoo!" clapping +his hands loudly together. Out from the woods came two baby deer, a +wise, gentle old cow; from the cabin came a mother cat and three kittens +and a big black dog; and from the trees scampered down a half a dozen +squirrels.<a class="pagenum" name="page_33" id="page_33" title="33"></a></p> + +<p>"Time for dinner."</p> + +<p>Betty went up to him and whispered something in his ear. The old man +nodded his head solemnly, and the little girl went trotting along the +path to Rangeley Village.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_34" id="page_34" title="34"></a> +<a name="FIDDLERS_873" id="FIDDLERS_873"></a> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h3>FIDDLERS</h3> +</div> + +<p>There was the greatest scurrying around in the fields on the edge of the +woods about Ben Gile's cabin. Little girls and boys were flitting hither +and thither with pretty nets and small boxes strapped over their +shoulders. Inside the boxes there seemed to be just as much hopping +about as there was outside.</p> + +<p>By-and-by the guide put his head out of his cabin door and called, "How +many have you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, lots and lots!" the children answered.</p> + +<p>"Bring them in." And the children trooped into the cabin, which they +thought quite the most wonderful place in the world. Its walls were +lined with books and cases. The books were not only in English, but also +in French, German, Italian, Latin, Greek, and other languages, and the +cases were filled with scores of specimens, the most beautiful +butterflies, moths, beetles, birds, flowers, and rare stones. The<a class="pagenum" name="page_35" id="page_35" title="35"></a> floor +of the cabin was covered by different kinds of skins. Besides, there +were telescopes, field-glasses, magnifying-glasses, specimen cases, old +weapons, and a flute. And by the great wide fireplace, in front of which +the guide was cooking biscuits and cookies in a reflector oven, lay +several kittens, the old black dog, Thor, and a dappled fawn which Thor +was licking.</p> + +<p>"Those crickets sound like pop-guns," said the old man, slipping more +cookies into the oven and setting a pan of biscuits on a shelf by the +hearth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," said little Hope, "we've got bushels of them!"</p> + +<p>"Now we'll let those cookies bake while we 'tend to the fiddlers. Are +four pans of cookies enough for five children?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"Now, Hope, let me have your bushel box. H'm," he murmured, peeping in, +"all dressed for the party. What color?"</p> + +<p>"Brown, sir."</p> + +<p>"Black, too," said Betty; "and on a few," she added, "there's a stripe +or a weeny spot of color."</p> + +<p>"Oho!" exclaimed the old man, "what have we here?" He took a pale little +creature from Hope's basket.<a class="pagenum" name="page_36" id="page_36" title="36"></a></p> + +<p>"Why, it's white and green tinted," called Jimmie. "That isn't a +cricket."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it? Well, it's a first cousin which lives in the trees and loves +its tree home so much, like the sensible little fellow it is, that it +sings 'Tr-e-e-e, tr-e-e-e,' as fast as it can trill all summer long. But +it is very harmful to the tree, because when egg-laying time comes it +cuts a long slit in the trees in which to lay its eggs. Just a minute!" +The old man shifted the position of the baker, and out came such a good +odor of cookies that all the children sniffed with delight. "Here, +Jack," he said, to a brown little fellow in ragged clothes and bare +feet, "you have a singer in your box."</p> + +<p>"I didn't catch but one," said the lad.</p> + +<p>"Briers aren't good for bare legs, are they? Never mind, your crickets +won't eat one another."</p> + +<p>"Eat one another?" cried the children.</p> + +<p>"Yes, crickets are cannibals, like some other insects, and they +frequently eat a near relation or a friend, as the people in the Fiji +Islands used to do. This is a nice brown little chap, Jack. Do you know +how he makes his music?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-004" id="illus-004"></a> +<img src="images/illus-037.jpg" alt="cricket" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> File on wing of cricket.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Scraper on wing of cricket.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Mrs. Cricket. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_39" id="page_39" title="39"></a>"Why, +I suppose," said the boy, "he opens his mouth the way Mr. Tucker +does in the church choir, and—"</p> + +<p>There was a shout of laughter from Jimmie, who was sure he knew a great +deal.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the guide to Jim, "then how does it make its music, since +you know?"</p> + +<p>"Not with its mouth."</p> + +<p>"Then how?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir," stammered Jimmie, who found he didn't know as much +as he thought he did.</p> + +<p>"When Mr. Cricket sings," went on the hermit, "it lifts its two wing +covers so that the edges meet like the pointed roof of a house. Then +your little fiddler, Jack, rubs one edge against the other."</p> + +<p>All this time Peter Beech had been waving his hand about, the way +children do in school, and giving big sniffs.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, the cookies are burning."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul!" The guide whisked the cookies away.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," said Jack, "are we going to have something soon?" Jack +did not look as if he had his share of food to eat, for he was as thin +as the fawn which had curled up near him. Jack had twelve brothers and +sisters, and a father who wasn't what he ought to be, so there were +times when there was no food for Jack.<a class="pagenum" name="page_40" id="page_40" title="40"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, my son," said the guide, kindly, for the old man could guess how +hungry the lad was. "But, first, where do you suppose the crickets and +katydids have their ears?"</p> + +<p>"Near those big eyes," called Peter.</p> + +<p>"No, no, on the joint of the fore leg is a little membrane, which is +just a thinner, tighter place in the skin of the leg. There!" Ben Gile +had the fore leg of Jack's cricket stretched under the magnifying-glass. +The children could see plainly the film of tight skin. "Underneath the +thin, tight skin is a fine nerve which, when the air makes the skin +shake, changes the motion into sound. Mrs. Cricket listens with her fore +leg while Mr. Cricket sings his love-song to her."</p> + +<p>At this the children laughed and laughed, and comical little Peter put +up his leg as if listening.</p> + +<p>"Here, Pete, give me your box. Do you remember what I told you about +Mrs. Locust, Betty, and the way she lays her eggs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. She has four straight spines at the end of her body, and +after she has bored a hole with her body she guides the eggs in with the +four spines."</p> + +<p>"Good! Well, Mrs. Cricket wears at the end of her body a long spear. See +this cricket of Peter's. Now she bores her hole with this spear<a class="pagenum" name="page_41" id="page_41" title="41"></a> and +then guides her eggs carefully into the hole. Why, see here, Pete, what +have you got here?"</p> + +<p>The children gazed eagerly over the old man's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"My, isn't it like velvet!" exclaimed Peter.</p> + +<p>"And isn't it brown!" added Hope.</p> + +<p>"But look at its stumpy front legs!" called Jack, who had forgotten his +empty stomach in the excitement about this little creature, which looked +like a cricket and yet was so different.</p> + +<p>"And its little beads of eyes!" said Betty.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what it is?" No one knew. "Well, it's a mole cricket. You +rarely ever see one because they live underground and bore their way +along just like moles, leaving tiny tracks and nibbling the roots of +tender plants. You see, it doesn't need eyes any more than the mole +does. But it does need those thickened fore legs to do its underground +digging. Now, children, run out into the fields and let your crickets +go. Be careful not to hurt them. We'll have supper, and after supper +we'll catch a katydid."</p> + +<p>Out ran the children. Soon they were setting the long wooden tables +under the trees with delicious trout the boys had caught, with hot +biscuits and jugs of maple syrup, with berries<a class="pagenum" name="page_42" id="page_42" title="42"></a> and cookies, with milk +from the old cow, who, contentedly chewing her cud, was looking at them +through the low crotch of a tree, and with little cakes of maple sugar +which the guide had moulded into the shape of hearts.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_43" id="page_43" title="43"></a> +<a name="HOW_KATY_DID_1058" id="HOW_KATY_DID_1058"></a> +<h2>V</h2> +<h3>HOW KATY DID</h3> +</div> + +<p>Never did trout, cookies, and maple sugar disappear so quickly; never +were such appetites; never such laughing, and such interesting stories +told by the guide.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Ben Gile. "Do you hear that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried Peter.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's a katydid," said Betty, "over there."</p> + +<p>"Listen, children, what does it say?"</p> + +<p>"It says, 'Chic-a-chee, chic-a-chee,' over and over again," answered +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Pooh," interrupted Jimmie, "it says, 'Katy did, Katy didn't!'"</p> + +<p>"It says, 'Katy broke a china plate; yes, she did; no, she didn't,'" +called Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she did; no, she didn't!" the children shouted, merrily, together.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the old man, "anyway, it's all about what Katy did do and +what Katy didn't<a class="pagenum" name="page_44" id="page_44" title="44"></a> do. Probably Mr. Katy, like other good husbands in the +world, is singing of the wonderful things Katy did do and the naughty +things she didn't do. That is Mr. Katy's love-song. Ah, he finds Mrs. +Katy very charming—her beautiful wings, her gracefully waving antennæ, +her knowing, shining eyes! Now, listen again. Katydid carries its +musical instrument at the base of its wing cover. On each side is a tiny +membrane and a strong vein. When the wing covers are rubbed together the +membrane speaks, and you hear—"</p> + +<p>"Katy did, Katy didn't!" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you know where they are? Well, take these lanterns"—the +guide had lighted half a dozen—"and find them."</p> + +<p>The children scurried off, certain of a quick victory. In the woods +about the cabin you could hear them shouting: "It's here!" "No, it +isn't!" "Where is it?"</p> + +<p>"A will-o'-the-wisp," murmured the old man; "may they never have a +harder one to find!"</p> + +<p>By-and-by the children came trotting back. They couldn't find the +katydid in any place, and they had looked everywhere.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-005" id="illus-005"></a> +<img src="images/illus-045.jpg" alt="katydid" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Eggs of the katydid.<br /> +<i>B.</i> A katydid.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Leg, showing katydid's ear.<br /> +<i>D.</i> Musical instrument at base of wings. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_47" id="page_47" title="47"></a>"Couldn't? +How did you look?" He took one of the lanterns, went to a +near-by tree, and held the lantern close to the leaves. "Here it is! +Why, it's a great fellow!"</p> + +<p>The children trooped into the cabin after him, crowding to look at the +katydid.</p> + +<p>"I thought they were brown," said Hope.</p> + +<p>"So did I," echoed Betty.</p> + +<p>"See, you can't tell this fellow from the leaf, it is such a bright, +fresh green. Woe to the katydid if it were anything but this bright +green! Just think how easily the birds would find them. What nice salad +Katy would make for a young robin!"</p> + +<p>"Do the birds eat katydids?" asked the children, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, and they haven't any stated luncheon or supper time for doing +it. They are very informal. One time is as good as another, and the +oftener the merrier. If Katy doesn't keep very quiet and demure, like +her leafy background, whist! and Father Robin or Mother Bluebird has a +meal for the youngsters."</p> + +<p>"Is that why it doesn't sing by day?" asked Peter.</p> + +<p>"They wait till the birds go to bed, I suppose. See what a comical look +this fellow has, waving its long, fine, silky antennæ about. Probably +it's trying to find out what it is on, looking out for<a class="pagenum" name="page_48" id="page_48" title="48"></a> another nice +green leaf to eat. They do a lot of damage eating leaves from the +trees."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked Betty, pointing to the edge of a leaf.</p> + +<p>"Well, you have sharp eyes," said the old man. "Mrs. Katydid has laid +her eggs there. See, the eggs are rounded and flattened, and each egg +laps a little over the one in front of it. Once another man saw a row of +katydid eggs laid as neatly as could be on the edge of a clean linen +collar. I'll keep these eggs; then, in the spring, the young ones will +hatch out. They will grow and shed their skins from time to time, just +the way the locusts do. Ah, they leave so many old clothes about that +they need an old clothes man! I wish I could tell you about the katydid +I knew once upon a time who spent her days collecting old clothes, and +how she made a fortune selling them to—"</p> + +<p>Ben Gile paused and sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"Selling them to what?" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell that to you," replied the old man, shaking his head sadly. +"It's the story of 'How Katy Did.' I have to be very careful, for Mr. +John Burroughs, who is a wiser old man than I am, says I mustn't. Lately +the scientists almost killed one man I know, and a good, clever,<a class="pagenum" name="page_49" id="page_49" title="49"></a> useful +man, for telling that story—very savage, very savage."</p> + +<p>The children began to look troubled. "Will Mr. Burroughs hurt us?" +inquired Hope. "My papa would—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, child, you're too small. He likes something big, and he's +especially fond of the Big Stick."</p> + +<p>"Is that what he does his beating with?" Jack's eyes were frightened.</p> + +<p>"He hunts with the Big Stick," answered the guide. "Dear me, where are +we? It's half-past eight, and you children should have been in bed this +time long, long ago. Hurry! Skip! Get the lanterns or we'll all be +scolded."</p> + +<p>And they scampered for the village, the guide driving them before him, +and all the lights waving to and fro like so many crazy fireflies.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_50" id="page_50" title="50"></a> +<a name="FISHING_1203" id="FISHING_1203"></a> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h3>FISHING</h3> +</div> + +<p>Have you ever started off on a bright, cool morning to fish? At the last +it seems as if you would never get started, which, I suppose, is partly +the eagerness to be gone; then you do get off, only to find you've +forgot the can of worms or the salt for the luncheon-basket.</p> + +<p>Jimmie and Betty were prancing on the lawn in front of Turtle Lodge. +Jimmie had his camera over his back and a jointed steel rod done up in a +neat little case in his hands, on his feet long rubber boots. Betty wore +a big straw hat; she carried a little rod like Jim's and a pretty little +knapsack, which held part of the luncheon. They were waiting for Jack +and Ben Gile, who were to go with them to fish a stream that lay far +back from the pond. It was to be a great day's sport. They had a creel +and a rod for Jack; for the guide they needed to take nothing, for he +had the most wonderful collection of rods and flies they had ever seen.<a class="pagenum" name="page_51" id="page_51" title="51"></a></p> + +<p>At last they saw him coming up the hill, Jack with him. Hastily they +kissed Mrs. Reece, and ran shouting and jumping toward the old man and +the boy, Lizzie after them, for they had left half the luncheon on the +grass. "Faith!" she panted, catching up with them, "and what can you be +doing without the victuals, I'd like to know?"</p> + +<p>The guide took part of the bundles and Jack the rest. Off they went +gayly talking and laughing.</p> + +<p>Soon they were following the stream, Jack catching his line and fly in +the alders almost every time he cast.</p> + +<p>Jack was too poor ever to have had any rod except an alder stick cut +beside the stream, a short line and hook, and any worm or grasshopper he +might find. He was wonderfully proud of the rod he held. The children +meant to give it to him at the end of the summer. But Jack did not know +this good news yet.</p> + +<p>Ben Gile led the way, and almost every time he cast his fly there was a +swirl, the end of the slender rod bent, there was a minute of +excitement, and then upon the bank lay a beautiful speckled trout. On, +on, on they went over the cool, green leaves and bright red berries of +the<a class="pagenum" name="page_52" id="page_52" title="52"></a> partridge vine, and past raspberries wherever the sun had struck in +through the heavy trees to ripen them. The stream was running more and +more swiftly as they travelled up grade; quick water was growing more +frequent and the pools deeper.</p> + +<p>At last they came to a deep, round pool, and the guide said, "Now, Jim, +you've the first try."</p> + +<p>Jimmie cast his fly, there was a strike, a plunge, and out, out, out ran +Jimmie's line. The boy's face turned quite pale. "What shall I do, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You have a big one," answered Ben, calmly. "If you can play him long +enough we may get him; otherwise he'll get your fly and line. Steady +there, steady; let out a little more line, and now reel in a bit."</p> + +<p>It seemed like hours to Jimmie as he let the line out and reeled it in +again. Really, it was only a few minutes before the guide said: "Seems +to be getting a little tired; bring him in closer. That's it. There!"</p> + +<p>They had no landing-net with them, so at the last moment Ben Gile seized +the line, and out came a two-pound trout. Jimmie's eyes were popping +nearly out of his head, and Betty was jumping about and clapping her +hands.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-006" id="illus-006"></a> +<img src="images/illus-053.jpg" alt="dragon-fly" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Front view of dragon-fly nymph.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Top view of damsel-fly nymph.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Adult dragon-fly. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_55" id="page_55" title="55"></a>"Tired?" +asked the old man.</p> + +<p>"Some," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the best place we shall find to eat our luncheon. We'll +camp here. Now for the fire! Boys, get the wood and a small strip of +birch bark! Then these two stones will hold the frying-pan. Now for the +fish; we'll keep that big one of yours and I'll mount it for you, if +you'd like me to. We'll eat the little fellows. After luncheon we must +catch more for your mother, Betty, and for Jack to take home with him."</p> + +<p>Soon the frying-pan was hot, and the trout were sizzling and curling up +with the bacon in the pan. Never did a luncheon taste so good as that, +with fried trout and bacon, and hard-boiled eggs, soda biscuits, and a +mammoth apple pie. They listened to the fire crackling; they looked up +into the shining trees; they watched the water beyond the pool go +tumbling downhill.</p> + +<p>Finally the old man said, "It's going to be a clear day to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The children gazed up into the sky.</p> + +<p>At this Ben Gile laughed. "Don't look at the sky, look at your plates."</p> + +<p>Puzzled by this, the children did look at their plates.<a class="pagenum" name="page_56" id="page_56" title="56"></a></p> + +<p>"But there's nothing left to look at," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"That's just it. There's an old saying that people who eat all their +food make a clear day for the morrow. Now," he continued, "I'll smoke my +pipe of peace before we go on. Just look at that fellow darting about +over the pool!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Betty, "it's a darning-needle, and it will sew up my mouth +and my eyes—oh, oh!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, child, that's silly. The dragon-fly is a very useful and a +very harmless fellow. It's a pity that there are so many superstitions +about it."</p> + +<p>"There's another name for it," said Jack—"devil's darning-needle."</p> + +<p>"And in the South the darkies call it the mule-killer, and believe it +has power to bring snakes to life. It's all nonsense. They are not only +harmless to human beings but also very useful, for they eat flies and +mosquitoes at a great rate. Once upon a time I fed a dragon-fly forty +house flies in two hours. And they eat beetles and spiders and +centipedes. And sometimes they eat one another."</p> + +<p>"Like the crickets?" said Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, like the crickets. Just see that fellow<a class="pagenum" name="page_57" id="page_57" title="57"></a> dart about. The sharpest +sort of angles. There, it has something! It caught that lace-wing in its +leg-basket."</p> + +<p>"Leg-basket!" exclaimed the children.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it draws its six legs together, and makes a sort of basket right +under its head. Then the dragon-fly devours what it catches by these +strong-toothed jaws. It is a hungry fellow, it is."</p> + +<p>The old man puffed away quietly for a few minutes, while the children +watched the darning-needle and hoped Ben Gile would say something soon.</p> + +<p>"Those scientists," he continued, "who are working on flying-machines +could learn a good deal from this fellow. The dragon-fly is made for +flight. A long, slender, tapering body that cuts the air, moved by four +narrow, gauzy wings, and steered by that pointed abdomen. They eat, +mate, and lay their eggs while they are flying. I don't know that they +are still for more than a few seconds."</p> + +<p>"Can you find their eggs?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes; their eggs are laid in the water or fastened to the stems of water +plants. See that damsel fly, the slender, smaller, pretty-colored +darning-needle? Well, it goes entirely under<a class="pagenum" name="page_58" id="page_58" title="58"></a> water, cuts a slit in the +stem with the sharp end of the abdomen, and lays the eggs in the groove +it has made. And they lay thousands of eggs."</p> + +<p>"When they hatch out, what do they look like?" asked Jack, who grew +daily more interested in the creatures about him, and who, in the years +to come, was destined to be a great scientist.</p> + +<p>"It looks a little like the mother," said Ben Gile, taking out his pipe, +"but not much. It goes through a great many changes before it is really +grown up. All told, the growth takes from a few months to a whole year. +The young one, called a nymph, is an ugly little fellow, dingy black +with six sprawling legs, two staring eyes, and a big lower lip which +covers up its cruel face like a mask. It is a true ogre, lurking under +stones and in rubbish at the bottom of the pond seeking whom it may +devour. It eats the smaller and weaker nymphs."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Betty, studying the picture the guide had drawn, "what an +ugly, ugly fellow!"</p> + +<p>"It changes its skin a good many times, and sometimes it looks a little +better while the skin is still clean and light gray. But it soon turns +dingy again. See these three little leaf-shaped gills I've drawn?"<a class="pagenum" name="page_59" id="page_59" title="59"></a></p> + +<p>"They are like the screw on a steamer," commented Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"They are, a little. Well, this chap uses these gills for the same +purpose as the steamer uses its screw—to scull through the water."</p> + +<p>"What happens when it changes?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"After the nymph has its full growth, some sunny morning soon after +daylight, it makes its way up out of the water on to a stem and waits +quietly for the old dark skin to split. Then out crawls a soft-skinned +creature with gauzy wings. But the body is so moist and weak it has to +wait awhile for the warm sunshine to harden the skin and strengthen the +muscle. When this is done the new dragon-fly, with its glistening body, +flies out from the pond in the bright, warm light."</p> + +<p>"Then does it live forever?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"No; it dies after twenty-five to forty-five days of its flight. Here, +Jack, catch that fellow!"</p> + +<p>There was a wild scramble, but every time Jack just missed the +dragon-fly. Finally Betty lent him her broad hat, and at last Jack +caught the insect.</p> + +<p>"Gee! aren't its eyes big?"</p> + +<p>"And beautiful, too," said the guide. "They are made up of thousands of +facets (a facet is<a class="pagenum" name="page_60" id="page_60" title="60"></a> just a small, plain surface) as many as thirty +thousand facets in one eye. Some look up, some look down, some look out, +some look in; so that there is nothing that escapes the sight of this +hawk of the air. Look at the wings on this fellow, and look at the +picture I drew for you of the nymph. Well, this fellow's wings begin in +the nymph as tiny sacs, or pads, made by the pushing out of the wall of +the body. Running all through between the two layers of the wing are +thickened lines of chitin, which divide and subdivide, forming this fine +network. In the new wing, protected by these thickenings, are air-tubes, +which divide and branch into all parts of the wing. But as the wing +reaches its full growth most of the air-tubes die." The guide paused. +"We are talking too much and fishing too little. Time to go on. Put out +the fire, boys. Be sure that it's out. Run water all around it. Now +we're off!" And up, up, up the brook they went.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_61" id="page_61" title="61"></a> +<a name="THE_SWIMMING-POOL_1428" id="THE_SWIMMING-POOL_1428"></a> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h3>THE SWIMMING-POOL</h3> +</div> + +<p>Two or three days after the fishing expedition the boys had gathered +together at the swimming-pool, Ben Gile with them. They had been racing, +and climbing trees, and were very warm. "Come, boys," said the guide, +"let's sit down a minute before you go into the water. It won't do to +bathe when you're too warm. Look round on the stones under the water and +see what you can find."</p> + +<p>"Look at this," called Peter; "it's just like a sponge."</p> + +<p>"It is a fresh-water sponge."</p> + +<p>"I didn't suppose sponges grew in these parts at all," said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, there are many of them in the ponds."</p> + +<p>"See this, sir," shouted Jack; "what funny little legs it has!"</p> + +<p>"That's a May-fly or shad-fly nymph. He was<a class="pagenum" name="page_62" id="page_62" title="62"></a> hiding carefully under that +stone and keeping out of the way of the dragon-fly nymph, who would so +gladly gobble him up."</p> + +<p>"It's prettier," said Jimmie, "than that dragon-fly nymph you drew a +picture of."</p> + +<p>"So it is. See, here on each side of its body are these fine little +gill-plates, moving, moving, moving, so that they may get as much fresh +air as possible out of the water. Each gill-plate is a tiny sac, and +within these are the fine branches of the air-tubes. It's wonderful the +way these creatures breathe."</p> + +<p>"Don't they breathe just the way we do?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"No; throughout the body of an insect is a system of tiny white tubes. +Some day we'll look at these tubes under the microscope, and you will +see that they are made up of rings. From end to end of the tube is a +fine thread of chitin twisted in a close spiral like a spring. It is +these little coils which look like rings. The coiled thread holds the +little tube open so that the air may pass readily. But your little +fellow, Jack, cannot have pores on the sides of the body like the last +nymph. It lives under water, and the water would get into its tubes; +instead, it has tracheal gills."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-007" id="illus-007"></a> +<img src="images/illus-063.jpg" alt="May-fly" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> May-fly.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Nymph of May-fly. + </span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_65" id="page_65" title="65"></a>"That's +a pretty big word," said Peter, looking up at the guide. He was +growing impatient, and wished to begin the swim. If he had known what +that swim was to mean to him, probably he would not have been so +anxious.</p> + +<p>"They aren't so hard to understand; they are just little oval sacs, +inside of which is a limb of the air tube divided into tiny branches. +The fresh air in the water passes through the thin wall of the gill and +is taken by the air-tubes to all parts of the body, while the impure air +passes out in the water. This is all that breathing means in any +creature—a changing of impure for pure air."</p> + +<p>"Then that is what my nymph is doing," asked Jack, "when it wiggles its +gills so?"</p> + +<p>"Just that. Your May-fly nymph, Jack, hatched from a tiny egg first. But +it grows rapidly, and splits and sheds its skin sometimes as often as +twenty times. During the last few months wings appear, which grow a +little larger with each shedding of the skin. Finally, after three +years—sometimes three years spent in growing and hiding away from its +enemies—the little nymph floats up to the surface of the water. In a +few minutes the old skin splits along the back, and from it flies forth +a frail little May-fly.<a class="pagenum" name="page_66" id="page_66" title="66"></a> Its body is very soft and delicate. Its four +wings are of a gauzy texture. At the tip of the body are two long, fine +hairs. Its jaws are small and weak, but the life of this little creature +is so short that it never eats. Up it flies into the air with thousands +of its brothers and sisters, whirls in a mad dance for a few hours, then +falls exhausted to the ground to die.</p> + +<p>"Well, now I think we'd better go into the water," ended the guide. "You +boys can go in just as you are." For three little boys had been sitting +undressed in the bright sunshine. "Good for their pores," Ben Gile had +told them, which is all very true.</p> + +<p>Soon there was the greatest splashing and paddling and shouts of, "My +goodness, isn't the water cold!" "Can you swim this way?" "How far can +you go, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Jimmie and the guide were swimming around near the shore when suddenly, +two hundred feet ahead of them, they saw Peter disappear in what they +supposed was shallow water. Jack was half-way the distance between the +guide and Peter. It did not take him an instant to realize what had +happened. But before he could get to the place where Peter had gone +down, the lad had come up, struggled, and gone down<a class="pagenum" name="page_67" id="page_67" title="67"></a> again. As he came +up once more Jack caught him by his curly hair, turned over on his back, +holding Peter's head high out of the water, and swam calmly for the +shallow place. Once there, the old man took Peter in his arms and +hurried to shore, where they rolled him until they had the water out of +him. Not a word was said, and modest, quiet Jack did not seem to think +that he had been brave.</p> + +<p>When Peter opened his eyes he said, "Guess my pores weren't in the right +place."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_68" id="page_68" title="68"></a> +<a name="THE_RAINY_DAY_1545" id="THE_RAINY_DAY_1545"></a> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<h3>THE RAINY DAY</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a rainy day. Poor Betty flattened her little nose against the +window-panes of Turtle Lodge a dozen times. But outside all she could +see were just the long, straight lines of the down-coming rain and an +empty road leading downhill to the edge of the pond; all she could hear +was the drum of the water upon the roof. Inside, Jimmie was developing +films in his laboratory, and was not in the least interested in what +Betty might be doing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother," called Betty, "I am so tired; there isn't anything to do!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you sew on a dress for Belinda?" asked Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Belinda has too many clothes; she has more than I have, mother, and +she's a naughty dolly to-day."</p> + +<p>"Well, let me see—get Lizzie to let you make cake."<a class="pagenum" name="page_69" id="page_69" title="69"></a></p> + +<p>"Lizzie's cross, and I'm afraid to. I wish the guide were here. He's +never cross, and never too busy to tell you something that's +interesting." Betty looked out of the window. "He's coming now! Goody! +Goody!"</p> + +<p>When old Ben Gile reached the steps there was a little girl dancing +inside the door and still shouting "Goody!"</p> + +<p>"What's this?"</p> + +<p>"You'll tell me a story, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Tell you a story! Dear, dear, I never knew such a little greedy for +stories. I've brought you something."</p> + +<p>Betty's face was shining now. She had forgotten the rain, the dreary +day, cross Lizzie, and everything. Ben Gile took a box out of his +pocket. "What is it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I have a box full of little elves for you."</p> + +<p>"Elves!" exclaimed Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, little elves, little brownies."</p> + +<p>"Come into the study, where there is a fire." Mrs. Reece led the way. +"Then you can tell us all about these elves." They sat down around the +fire, and Mrs. Reece continued, "Don't you think it would be fun to pop +corn while we're hearing about the brownies?"</p> + +<p>Betty was delighted, and ran for a corn-popper,<a class="pagenum" name="page_70" id="page_70" title="70"></a> and soon there was the +merry sound of crackling wood, popping corn, and happy voices—all +sounds that proved so tempting that before long Jimmie joined the +others.</p> + +<p>"My little elf is a bug," began the hermit.</p> + +<p>"A <i>bug</i> an elf?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a bug; and when he doesn't look like an elf, he looks like a king +with a high crown on his head or a naughty boy with a dunce cap."</p> + +<p>"Let's see him, please," said Betty.</p> + +<p>The old man opened his box. Inside lay a lot of little creatures with +backs like beechnuts. "See, look through the lens!"</p> + +<p>Betty laughed. "Oh, aren't they funny! The eyes are so big and so far +apart."</p> + +<p>"And the lines on their heads make them look as if they were gazing +through heavy-bowed spectacles," said Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"There is a very wise man, and his name is Mr. Comstock, who says that +Nature must have been in a joking mood when she made these little tree +and leaf hoppers, they are so impish and knowing-looking. Ah, they are +the naughty brownies of the insect world!"</p> + +<p>"Betty, Betty," called Mrs. Reece, "your popcorn is burning!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-008" id="illus-008"></a> +<img src="images/illus-071.jpg" alt="Tree and Leaf Hoppers" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">Tree and Leaf Hoppers</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_73" id="page_73" title="73"></a>"Mother, +I don't care to pop any more; let me just listen now. What +makes them bad?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they are born with a naughty desire to suck everything they can +get their tiny sucking beaks upon. They hop around in great numbers on +the fruit trees and pierce the leaves with their sharp beaks. Then, with +a tubelike lower lip, they suck up the sap. They also make slits in the +twigs in which to lay their eggs. In the following spring the eggs +hatch, and there is a fresh supply of tree-hoppers ready to begin the +mischief their parents left off only when they died."</p> + +<p>"And what is the difference between the leaf-hoppers and the +tree-hoppers?" asked Mr. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Not much. They are cousins—cousins in naughtiness. The leaf-hoppers +are a great nuisance. Every year they destroy from one-fourth to +one-fifth of the grass that springs up. They also suck the sap of the +rose, the grape-vine, and of many grains. These sturdy fellows live +during the winter by hiding under the rubbish in the fields and +vineyards, ready when the warm spring does come to begin their naughty +work."</p> + +<p>"What makes a little fellow like this able to do so much damage?" asked +Jimmie, who had come in, his hands all stained with chemicals.<a class="pagenum" name="page_74" id="page_74" title="74"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, it is well covered by this horny substance called chitin, and +then it is very active. You see, the chitin acts both as armor-plate for +the soft parts and also as a firm support to the many muscles. As many +as two thousand separate, tiny muscles have been counted in a certain +caterpillar. That shows how very active insects are."</p> + +<p>"And they all have such big eyes they can see everything," said Betty.</p> + +<p>"So they have—bigger eyes than the old wolf of the story had."</p> + +<p>"You remember, I told you about the thousands of facets in the big eyes +of the darning-needle? Not contented with these large eyes, most insects +have three small eyes arranged in the form of a triangle on the front of +the head."</p> + +<p>"This bug has feelers, too," said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"So it has. Insects use these feelers, or antennæ, for all sorts of +purposes—some for touch, some for smell, some for hearing. Ants +exchange greetings by touching antennæ, and recognize a friend or an +enemy by the odor. The antennæ of a male mosquito are covered with fine +hairs. When Mrs. Mosquito sings, all the tiny hairs on Mr. Mosquito's +feelers are set in motion, and he becomes aware of Mrs. Mosquito."<a class="pagenum" name="page_75" id="page_75" title="75"></a></p> + +<p>Mrs. Reece laughed. "That's a new kind of romance!"</p> + +<p>"Mother, what's a romance?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"You'll know, dear, in time."</p> + +<p>"Notice this imp's mouth," said the guide. "It's made for sucking. But +there's a great difference in the mouths of insects: some are made for +biting, some for lapping, some for piercing, and some for sucking. The +butterfly, which lives on nectar in the depths of the flowers, has a +long, coiled tube which scientists call a proboscis. This it unrolls and +buries in the throat of the flower. Mrs. Mosquito has a file and pump, +for it is she, and not her husband, who does all the singing and biting. +The male mosquito has nothing more than a mouth for sucking nectar. And +I told you about the biting jaws of the locust with which it nibbles +grass and leaves."</p> + +<p>"And does the tree-hopper breathe the way the locust does—through those +pores on the side?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, child," said the old man, "and the air-pores are protected by fine +hairs which surround the openings, just the way the hairs in your +nostrils keep the dust from getting up your nose and into your throat."<a class="pagenum" name="page_76" id="page_76" title="76"></a></p> + +<p>"Things in the bugs," said Betty, "are so like us."</p> + +<p>"The world becomes more and more like one great whole as you grow +older," added Ben Gile. "Those are interesting elves I've been telling +you about, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know bug elves could be so interesting."</p> + +<p>"Now run and get us some of the fresh cake Lizzie has been baking," said +Mrs. Reece. "I hope it will taste as good as it smells."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_77" id="page_77" title="77"></a> +<a name="THE_PRIZE_1723" id="THE_PRIZE_1723"></a> +<h2>IX</h2> +<h3>THE PRIZE</h3> +</div> + +<p>There were two canoes going up the little river which led out from the +pond. In the first were Ben Gile with Betty, Hope, and Jack. In the +second Jimmie and Peter paddled Mrs. Reece. They had trout rods, +although they did not plan to fish very much, and well-filled +luncheon-baskets, magnifying-glasses, cameras, boxes, and various other +things.</p> + +<p>In two weeks they were to go on a camping expedition, and to-day's trip +was taken chiefly to find a good place for the first night's stop.</p> + +<p>The children were all excitement about the camping, which was to be the +last jollity of their happy summer, and they asked so many questions +about what they were to take with them, and they asked the same +questions over so many times, that at last Mrs. Reece put her hands on +her ears and called to the guide, who was paddling vigorously ahead.<a class="pagenum" name="page_78" id="page_78" title="78"></a></p> + +<p>"Well," he called back, "a frying-pan and an axe, and perhaps a tent." +He allowed his canoe to drop nearer Mrs. Reece's. "What naughty children +you are," he continued, "to bother the life out of your poor mother! I +know of some other children, too, who are very naughty. I see one flying +now."</p> + +<p>"That pretty little thing," exclaimed Betty, "with the gauzy wings?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that pretty little thing; its wings have many, many veins. When +Lace-Wing is a baby and is called a larva, it does not look like this, +for its jaws are strong and very sharp. After it has eaten and grown for +some time it makes a house for itself, where it rolls up for a nap. +While it is lying very still in this little house many things are +happening."</p> + +<p>"What happens?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is changing from a baby to a grown-up, and while it is growing +up into an insect it is called a pupa. Don't mistake this for papa—it +does not look like your papa at all."</p> + +<p>Betty thought this was very funny, because her father was a great big +man over six feet tall.</p> + +<p>"After its wings are made and it looks just like its mamma, Lace-Wing +crawls out of its house and flies away."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-009" id="illus-009"></a> +<img src="images/illus-079.jpg" alt="Pit of the Ant Lion" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">Pit of the Ant Lion</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_81" id="page_81" title="81"></a>"Has +it any cousins, like the locust?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it has cousins; the ant-lion and caddis-fly both belong to this +family. But little Lace-Wing, with its beautiful green body, gauzy +wings, and golden eyes, is the most graceful member of the family."</p> + +<p>"How do they live when they are babies?" asked Hope.</p> + +<p>"When they are babies," said Ben Gile, opening his eyes wide and +speaking in a loud, deep voice, "they go about like lions seeking whom +they may devour."</p> + +<p>Betty was frightened.</p> + +<p>"No, no, child," said Mrs. Reece, "not a real lion."</p> + +<p>"Just an aphis-lion," explained the guide, his eyes twinkling. "They are +called aphis-lions because they are very cruel to the little green +plant-lice I told you about. You remember, the plant-lice live on +plants, and with their sucking beaks pump the sap from the plants. The +aphis-lions crawling over the plants come across the little aphid. Quick +as a wink they stick their sharp claws in the soft body of the +plant-louse and drink the blood with their sharp-pointed jaws. They are +very fond of eggs, too, and Mamma<a class="pagenum" name="page_82" id="page_82" title="82"></a> Lace-Wing is careful of her eggs, +because she knows the mischievous ways of her children."</p> + +<p>"What does Mamma Lace-Wing do with her eggs?" inquired Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Each egg which she lays has a tiny stem, and the stems are fastened to +a leaf or twig. When the babies hatch out they crawl down onto the leaf +and hunt around for something to eat. Perhaps if they knew more they +would crawl up the little egg stems and eat their own brothers and +sisters."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what cannibals!" cried Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is not pleasant, this Fiji Island of the insects, but it is +their nature."</p> + +<p>"They do seek their meat from God," murmured Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a mystery," answered the old man. "But, dear me, I have +forgotten my story. Well, in about ten days they find a nicely sheltered +spot and spin a little silken cocoon about themselves. In this they stay +for a couple of weeks, while they are changing into grown-up lace-wings. +When they are finished they cut a round door in their silken house, +spread their gauzy wings, stretch their delicate green bodies, rub their +eyes in wonder at the sunny world, and fly away to lay some little eggs +on slender stems<a class="pagenum" name="page_83" id="page_83" title="83"></a> just like those which their mothers laid and from +which they came."</p> + +<p>"See," said Jimmie, "what a place for camping!"</p> + +<p>"But it is too near home," objected Peter. "We could get here in two +hours."</p> + +<p>"So we could," admitted Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Tell us something about the cousins, sir," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"We can't have much more now," replied the guide, "for we shall have to +stop for luncheon soon. But I'll tell you about a little fellow called +the ant-lion. Along the side of almost any country path or road, if you +keep your eyes open, you may notice some day little pits of sand with +sloping sides, and down at the bottom of this is a hole. The hole is +very dark, and unless you look sharply you will think it just a hole. +But if you examine it you will see a little head and two little sharp, +curved jaws. These are the jaws of the ant-lion, lying in wait to gobble +up the first passer-by. The rest of the body is in a little tunnel +burrowed out in the sand. They get their name, I suppose, because they +think an ant an excellent dinner. They lie there knowing very well that +Mr. and Mrs. Ant will surely slip on the steep-sloping sides. And if by +any<a class="pagenum" name="page_84" id="page_84" title="84"></a> chance they don't, these ant-lions have been seen to throw up sand +with their heads in order to hit a helpless little ant and knock it down +into the pit."</p> + +<p>The children exclaimed at this cleverness.</p> + +<p>"After it has eaten its fill, this cruel, greedy fellow makes a little +room for itself of fine grains of sand firmly held together with silky +fibres. In this room it lies quietly, sometimes all winter, until it +changes into a grown-up ant-lion with four long, narrow wings. Then Mrs. +Ant-Lion lays her eggs in the sand, and when the young ones hatch out +they build the 'pits of destruction' which I told you about. What book +is it, children, that uses the 'pit of destruction' so often as a +figure?"</p> + +<p>"The Bible!" shouted Peter, who was the minister's son in Rangeley +Village.</p> + +<p>"Good! Now, no more for the present, and here we are at a splendid place +for luncheon—clear spring, dry ground, handy wood, and all."</p> + +<p>The canoe beached noiselessly on the river's edge, the boys jumped out +with a whoop, and soon luncheon and frying-pans were out of the canoes, +and there was the sound of the axe chopping the dry wood, the good smell +of smoke, and the sizzling of bacon. Betty and Hope<a class="pagenum" name="page_85" id="page_85" title="85"></a> went for water. The +boys fetched wood. Mrs. Reece and the guide took care of the luncheon, +Mrs. Reece spreading the table on the ground, and the guide frying the +potatoes and bacon.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother," said Jimmie, "what does make things taste so good +out-of-doors?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know."</p> + +<p>"And, mother," asked Betty, "what does make everything so pretty?"</p> + +<p>"You ask mother a hard question."</p> + +<p>"And oh, Mrs. Reece," exclaimed Jack, his thin, eager face shining with +excitement, "everything in the world is so wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"It's all so different in the winter," said Peter, in between bites of +bread-and-butter. "It isn't half so nice, but I suppose it would be +lovely if we could have you and Mr. Gile—"</p> + +<p>"You dear child!"</p> + +<p>"It is about three miles above here," the guide spoke, "on the last of +the Dead River Ponds, where we shall find our first camping ground. I +want you to look at it."</p> + +<p>"And we'll be gone days and days."</p> + +<p>"Goody! goody!" called Betty, clapping her hands. "And we'll sleep +out-of-doors, cook out-of-doors, and do everything out-of-doors."</p> + +<p>Every one smiled with her, for there was not<a class="pagenum" name="page_86" id="page_86" title="86"></a> a person there who was not +looking forward with happiness to this trip.</p> + +<p>"Before we start on I'll smoke my pipe," said the old man.</p> + +<p>"Then, please, sir, won't you tell us something else?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"Why, I have nothing left in my head, you child."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, sir, you said there was another cousin called the +caddis-worm."</p> + +<p>"So I did," said the old man. "Fetch me that stone, Jack." He pointed to +a stone lying in the water. Jack brought it to him, and he broke +something off from it. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"That's a stick," answered Betty.</p> + +<p>"No, that's not a stick, that's a caddis-worm. This little fellow, +unlike some spoiled children I know, has to find its own dinner, change +its own clothes, tuck itself into bed, and build its own house. And it +is brighter than some children I know," said the old man, looking kindly +at Peter. "The caddis-worm builds itself different kinds of houses. Some +of the houses are shaped like the horns you blow on the Fourth of July, +and one kind of house is made of the finest sand, fastened together with +bands of finest silk, which the caddis spins. Our caddis-worm has +patience,"<a class="pagenum" name="page_87" id="page_87" title="87"></a> said the old man, shaking his head and looking at +Jimmie—"patience, plenty of patience." He puffed away at his pipe for a +few seconds. "Some build rougher houses, choosing small pebbles instead +of sand. Of these it builds a long tube. Others make a little green +summer cottage with twigs, grasses, and pine-needles, from which they +build an attractive bungalow by laying down four pieces and crossing the +ends like this: <img alt='octothorpe' src="images/octothorpe.png" height='16' /> +These cottages are built about an inch long, and in +them the young caddis-worms have a cool and cosey summer home. Often +these little houses have silken hangings inside. The little owners +fasten the hooks at the ends of their bodies to these and moor +themselves securely."</p> + +<p>"What do you call it a worm for?" asked Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Well, it looks a little like a worm. It has a long, slender body, but +it has six jointed legs, which real worms don't have. See this fellow!" +Ben Gile pulled the worm out of its case.</p> + +<p>"Oh, see! part of the body is so pale and soft!"</p> + +<p>"That, child, is because it is always covered by the little house. The +front end and the legs, however, are darker. That's sunburn, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"When young Master Caddis-Worm goes out<a class="pagenum" name="page_88" id="page_88" title="88"></a> for a swim or a walk it pushes +its six legs out-of-doors, and walks along, carrying its house with it. +Very convenient, you see! No doors to lock! And if it gets tired it does +not have to walk home; it just walks in and goes to sleep under a nice, +smooth stone. Some roam about and some stay at home. These creatures are +pretty much like human beings in their ways.</p> + +<p>"One of the young caddis-worms prefers fishing to walking, like some +other young fellows I know. On a stone near its house it spins a fine +web, turned up-stream, so that any tender little insects floating +down-stream get lodged in it. An easy way to get your dinner—just to go +to a net and eat."</p> + +<p>The guide paused for a long time, clouds of smoke circling about his +white beard and white hair. The children thought he would never go on. +"I've had something on my mind for days," he said, "and I'll speak of it +now. The boy or girl who learns most about the ants before September +15th shall win a prize. This prize is to be a magnifying-glass, a book +of colored plates of the insects, very beautiful and very big, and a +five-dollar gold piece."</p> + +<p>"A prize, a prize!" shouted the children, jumping<a class="pagenum" name="page_89" id="page_89" title="89"></a> madly about, while +Mrs. Reece and the guide smiled at each other.</p> + +<p>"Now we've had our dinner, our rest, our pipe of peace, a plan for a +prize, and we must push on for the camping-ground. Get the canoes +ready."</p> + +<p>And, with laughter and talking, the canoes were off up the river again.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_90" id="page_90" title="90"></a> +<a name="A_NAGGING_FAMILY_1990" id="A_NAGGING_FAMILY_1990"></a> +<h2>X</h2> +<h3>A NAGGING FAMILY</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Do you know of a family around here whom no one likes?" asked Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>The lanterns were burning brightly out on the lawn of Turtle Lodge, and +Mrs. Reece had just stopped playing so that the children might rest from +dancing. All the lanterns moved gently to and fro on the piazza; the +children were running about, and everybody seemed to be having a +beautiful and breathless time. "Do you know of a family around here," +called the guide, "whom nobody likes?"</p> + +<p>"I do," replied Mrs. Reece, laughing and slapping the side of her face. +"They are just like some people, nagging, annoying, and numerous."</p> + +<p>"Do any children here," called Ben Gile, for the third time, "know of a +family nobody likes? For the child who guesses I have a pocket-knife."<a class="pagenum" name="page_91" id="page_91" title="91"></a></p> + +<p>"The Smiths!" shouted Peter. "My father says Mrs. Smith is always +quarrelling with the choir."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Mrs. Reece, seeing danger ahead. "Ben means a family right +here on the piazza."</p> + +<p>The children looked at one another, and then Jack turned shrewdly to the +guide. "I guess, sir, it is mosquitoes and flies."</p> + +<p>"Good boy, and here's the knife."</p> + +<p>Jack thought he had never seen such a wonderful knife. It had three +blades, a corkscrew, a file, and a pair of scissors, and to this day +Jack has that knife.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Mrs. Reece, "let us all sit down for a few minutes while +Lizzie is getting supper ready inside."</p> + +<p>"How many wings," asked Mrs. Reece, "has a fly?"</p> + +<p>"Four," answered Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"No," corrected the guide; "a real fly has only two wings. In the place +of the second pair they have queer little knobbed rods which are called +balancers—something like the out-riggers on your scull, Jim. These +steer and steady the fly's body."</p> + +<p>"What makes a fly bite?" asked Hope.</p> + +<p>"They do not bite, child. A beetle or a grasshopper<a class="pagenum" name="page_92" id="page_92" title="92"></a> can really bite, +because beetles and grasshoppers have heavy, horny jaws, toothed on the +edge, with which to do it. But a fly has fine, sharp-pointed jaws. With +these needlelike jaws they pierce a hole in the skin, then with a tiny +sucking-beak, made by the rolled lower lip, they draw up the blood +through this opening."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether any little girl here knows why flies should not be +allowed in the house?" asked Mrs. Reece. No little girl did know +anything except that their mothers were always driving flies out, and +that these creatures buzzed and were a nuisance. "Do tell them," said +Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-010" id="illus-010"></a> +<img src="images/illus-093.jpg" alt="house fly, mosquito" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> House-fly.<br /> +<i>B.</i> A grown-up mosquito, two larvæ, and a pupa. + </span> +</div> + +<p>"Well," said the guide, "the fly is such a little acrobat it can crawl +up the steepest and most slippery wall and walk upside down or right +side up with the greatest ease. Perhaps some day you can make a fly keep +still long enough so that you can look at its foot. At the end of the +foot are two little round pads thickly covered with downy hair. On each +side are two sharp claws and many stiff, clinging hairs. With this +flattened foot it can go wherever it wishes.</p> + +<p>"But this same little foot is the chief reason why a fly should never be +allowed in the house, for flies crawl into all sorts of dirty places, +and the<a class="pagenum" name="page_95" id="page_95" title="95"></a> fine hairs catch and hold the dirt. When the fly lights on us +or on the table, some of the pieces of dirt are shaken off."</p> + +<p>"But they are so hard to catch," said Betty; "it takes Lizzie forever +and forever to get them out of the dining-room in the morning."</p> + +<p>"I know why they are hard to catch," added Jack, "for I've looked at a +dead fly. They have such big eyes, like lighthouses, they can see all +around."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Ben Gile; "there is no such thing as creeping up on a fly +unawares. Flies are dirty creatures," continued the old man, "and the +time is not very far distant when people will make war on them just as +they do on mosquitoes. Mrs. Fly lays her eggs in unclean places, and as +many as a hundred eggs at a time. These eggs hatch out quickly. It takes +only twenty-one days to make a chicken out of an egg, but to make a baby +fly it takes only a few hours, and ugly babies they are—little white +maggots, or worms, that live and feed and grow rapidly in dirty places. +Within six days the maggot becomes a tiny, dark-brown pupa, and after +five days the pupa hatches out into a grown-up fly."</p> + +<p>A dozen little girls at the party made up their<a class="pagenum" name="page_96" id="page_96" title="96"></a> minds promptly that +after this evening they, at least, would make war on flies.</p> + +<p>"And aren't flies of any use?" asked Betty.</p> + +<p>"There is one little fly, Mrs. Tachina-Fly, who is of some use. She is a +cousin of the house-fly. She is of use because she chooses a queer place +to lay her eggs—on the back of a young caterpillar. After these +caterpillars grow and shut themselves up into a cocoon to change into a +butterfly the little fly eggs hatch out into maggots. Of course they are +hungry—all babies are; and finding the nice, fat caterpillar in the +round house, like dutiful babies they eat what is set before them until +the fat, tender caterpillar is eaten up. After they are satisfied they +lie still in their brown skins and change into grown-up tachina-flies, +and at last out come a lot of busy, <i>buzzing</i>, bothersome flies. It is +rather hard on the caterpillar. But when we think what harmful, greedy +things most caterpillars are, perhaps it is good that there are +tachina-flies to eat them. Is it time for supper yet?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet," replied Mrs. Reece. "Do tell the children something about +mosquitoes."</p> + +<p>"If I had to choose between Mr. and Mrs. Mosquito, I should take Mr. +Mosquito, for he neither bites nor buzzes, but attends strictly to<a class="pagenum" name="page_97" id="page_97" title="97"></a> his +own business. Perhaps he thinks Mrs. Mosquito's voice pretty. Perhaps he +likes to hear about her adventures. But most people do not, for they +think Mrs. Mosquito a busybody, always going where she is not wished, +always breaking up conversations, and always coming back after she has +been plainly told that she is not wanted. Yet her singing is music in +the ears of her husband. Perhaps if we had long, slender antennæ, all +covered with hairs, like his, we, too, might like her song. When she +sings these hairs begin to tremble, to vibrate, and a little nerve in +the antennæ changes this trembling to sound.</p> + +<p>"In every way Mr. Mosquito seems a more pleasant body. He eats very +little, and contents himself with nectar. But she, knowing that +excitement makes the blood flow faster, and being a hearty eater, begins +her song gently at first, then louder and louder, nearer and nearer. +Finally, with her long, slender, sharp stylets, she makes a hole in your +cheek or your arm, pushes in her sucking-beak, and pumps up the blood. +And there she sucks and sucks until her stomach is full or she is +brushed off or killed."</p> + +<p>"Where do mosquitoes lay eggs?" asked Jack,<a class="pagenum" name="page_98" id="page_98" title="98"></a> who was certain that +everything in the insect world did lay eggs, as indeed everything does.</p> + +<p>"In the water; any puddle will do. When the eggs hatch out they are +funny-looking fellows, long, tapering bodies with a big head end. At the +other end are two little prongs. This baby, like some other babies, is +never quiet, but squirms and wriggles so that it is called a wriggler. +Upon its thick head are two little tufts of hair. These it waves every +moment, so that all the food which comes its way will go into its hungry +little mouth. One of the prongs at the other end of the body is an +air-tube, so that the baby mosquito has to stand on its head to breathe. +It hangs head downward, and holds its air-tube above the surface of the +water.</p> + +<p>"When people pour kerosene upon the water the wriggler cannot get any +air to breathe, and therefore dies. Within a few days the wriggler +changes its skin three times; after the third change it looks very +different, and is called a pupa. Now, instead of having an air-tube at +the end, it has two on the back of the thorax. At the tail end are two +flaps to help it swim. Even the pupa is never still a minute, but holds +its air-tubes above the water's surface.</p> + +<p>"When anything comes to disturb it, it uses<a class="pagenum" name="page_99" id="page_99" title="99"></a> its flaps and swims safely +to the bottom of the pool. At the end of two days out of the pupa skin +comes a grown-up mosquito. If it is a Mrs. Mosquito, she promptly begins +to bite people and to carry about fevers or malaria from person to +person. The bite of a mosquito may sometimes be as dangerous as the bite +of a rattlesnake."</p> + +<p>The children had been slapping the mosquitoes buzzing about on the +<i>piazza</i>. "And now," said the guide, "before we go into supper, I will +tell you a real and a true story. Mosquitoes sometimes carry sickness +from one person to another until it spreads throughout a large city. We +didn't realize how dangerous mosquitoes were till a short time ago. +People had malaria, and were very ill with it. In some countries many +died. Every one thought, however, that the malaria came in some +mysterious way from the mists of the low-lying swamps and marshes. But +one day some one happened to think it might not be in the marshes, after +all; rather that it might be a certain little two-winged insect with a +short, piercing instrument, which spent its babyhood days in these same +marshes.</p> + +<p>"And so two English doctors determined to find out the truth of the +matter. In the faraway land of Italy was a place where thousands<a class="pagenum" name="page_100" id="page_100" title="100"></a> of +people were suffering from this disease. There these doctors went and +built a comfortable little house in the very worst place they could +find. They were careful to screen every door and window, and to leave +not a crack for a mosquito to crawl in.</p> + +<p>"There they lived, always going into the house at sundown, shutting all +the screen doors, but allowing the damp night air to pour in. It was +this night air which every one supposed gave people malaria. But the two +physicians in the snug little house, free from mosquitoes, kept well, +strong, and happy, although the people outside in the other houses were +very ill and suffering with chills and fever.</p> + +<p>"You see, these little Anopheles, for that is their name, bite some one +ill with malaria. Perhaps the next person they stab with their sharp +needle is well. In this way they leave some of the poisoned blood in the +wound. There is another illness which is a hundred times worse than +malaria. This is called yellow fever. In some countries thousands of +people died from this every year, and doctors did not know just how it +was carried from place to place.</p> + +<p>"Our Government appointed a commission to study the matter. Dr. Walter +Reed, a surgeon<a class="pagenum" name="page_101" id="page_101" title="101"></a> of the United States Army, with three assistants, went +to Havana and built a house, carefully screened, just like that of the +English physicians in Italy. People thought that the fever was carried +in the clothes and on the sheets of those who were ill. To prove that +this was not so, these men wore the clothes of sick people, and even +slept on the sheets taken from the sickbed. They did this disagreeable +thing for twenty days, keeping the little house very warm, and shutting +out the fresh air and sunshine. But in spite of all these things the men +continued well and strong.</p> + +<p>"They wanted to prove even more surely that it was a certain kind of +mosquito which really did the harm. So they built another house. +Everything in this house was pure and clean. The rooms were flooded with +fresh air and sunshine. Half of the house was carefully screened and +shut off from the other half. The men in the half that was screened kept +perfectly well. Those in the other half let themselves be bitten by +mosquitoes which had been in the houses where there was yellow fever. +All became dangerously ill with the fever. Two of these brave physicians +died of the fever while trying to find the cause, in order that<a class="pagenum" name="page_102" id="page_102" title="102"></a> they +might save the lives of thousands of people."</p> + +<p>"That is modern heroism," said Mrs. Reece, "and service of the highest +sort. All humanity is indebted to those brave men. There is no doubt but +that our Panama Canal could not be in progress to-day were it not for +the extermination of the mosquito in the canal zone. Since we can never +tell where a mosquito has been, or what kind of a mosquito it is, I +suppose it is best to keep mosquitoes from biting, and always to keep +them out of the house. And now, children, supper is ready, and after +that games. Let us go to the dining-room!"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_103" id="page_103" title="103"></a> +<a name="CAMPING_OUT_2237" id="CAMPING_OUT_2237"></a> +<h2>XI</h2> +<h3>CAMPING OUT</h3> +</div> + +<p>At last the day, expected all summer long, had come. The children, Hope +and Betty, Jack, Peter, and Jimmy, Mrs. Reece and Ben Gile, were +gathered on the edge of the pond, their packs in the canoes, their +paddles at bow and stern. Other guides had taken the food and tents +ahead the day before. Their friends had gathered to bid them good-bye, +and finally, amid the farewells, they were off, Jimmie in a canoe by +himself, Jack and Peter paddling Mrs. Reece, and Ben Gile with the two +little girls. Everybody was so excited that all talked at once, and +nobody could hear any one else. Hope and Betty had never been camping +before, and the boys meant to show the girls all the wonders of sleeping +and eating out in the woods.</p> + +<p>Finally they came to a "carry"—that is, a path leading from one lake to +another, across which the food and canoes have to be lugged. The<a class="pagenum" name="page_104" id="page_104" title="104"></a> girls +and Mrs. Reece carried the packs and food over, making several trips in +order to do so; and the boys and the guide, crossing their paddles under +the thwarts of the canoes and raising the blades on their shoulders, +balanced the canoes and trotted swiftly over the carry. Nothing seemed +any trouble that glorious, beautiful day—nothing too heavy, nothing too +hard. Betty and Hope could have skipped over every inch of the trail, +and they were quite sure that they could have done all the paddling, +too. And Betty did learn, in after years, not only to paddle, but also +to carry her own canoe, for she grew to be a big, strong, athletic girl, +with rosy cheeks and a quick, sure step.</p> + +<p>Hour after hour they went from one pond to another. The ponds were +larger and wilder at each crossing, and already they were in a +wilderness of woods and lakes, and heard the whistle of the hawk, the +scream of the lonely eagle, and the crazy cries of the loon. Every once +in a while a big heron mounted lazily upward and flew off solemnly to a +place where his peace need not be disturbed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-011" id="illus-011"></a> +<img src="images/illus-105.jpg" alt="moth, caterpillar" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Moth.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Caterpillar.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Side view of head of moth.<br /> +<i>D.</i> and <i>E.</i> Scales from the wing of a butterfly. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_107" id="page_107" title="107"></a>Although +Hope and Peter and Jack lived all the year around in Rangeley +Village, yet they had never been so far away from home before, and to +them it seemed very wonderful. Even in the midst of it all, however, +Jack did not forget the prize Ben Gile had offered. He hurried over +carry after carry, and at the end of each one might be found flat on his +face studying some little hill of ants.</p> + +<p>At last, after travelling five hours, they came to a halt, ravenously +hungry. Dinner was cooked and eaten, and then, after dinner, they began +their long ascent of Saddleback, for they were going to a lonely little +pond on the second highest mountain in the State of Maine. There, at +Camp-in-the-Clouds, was a cabin in which Mrs. Reece could sleep, and the +girls, too, if they wished, although they declared that they would not.</p> + +<p>Up, up the hill they trudged, stepping over blow-downs, following their +footing carefully, and watching with interest the little animals that +scampered out of their way. But never did packs grow so heavy, and at +last Mrs. Reece, who was carrying nothing but Jack's camera, sat down +panting and laughing.</p> + +<p>"I can't go a step farther," she declared, "until I catch my breath."</p> + +<p>"This is a good place to rest," assented the guide. "Some deer found it +so this morning, I think. Here, catch that butterfly, Jack!"<a class="pagenum" name="page_108" id="page_108" title="108"></a></p> + +<p>In a flash Jack had caught the butterfly, and brought it, gently, to Ben +Gile.</p> + +<p>"You don't see this fellow up here often. Who knows the difference +between a butterfly and a moth? No one? Well, that is because most +children are going to bed about the time the moth begins to fly. Doesn't +any one know? You have all seen moths and butterflies? Well, well, well!</p> + +<p>"The first thing you see is that when the moth lights on the edge of a +flower-cup, instead of holding the wings up above the body, as the +butterfly does, it spreads its wings flat over the body. Then a +butterfly has little knobs at the tips of its slender antennæ, while +the moth has slender ones without knobs, or pretty, feathery ones that +look like plumes."</p> + +<p>"I supposed," said Peter, "that moths and butterflies were just the +same, except that moths will fly into the house and burn their wings on +the lamps." Peter didn't in the least care about moths and butterflies. +He was longing to get to the top of the mountain, but he was too polite +to seem impatient.</p> + +<p>"They are alike in many ways. You remember, do you not, that the locust +has a pair of soft jaws covering over the dark, hard ones?<a class="pagenum" name="page_109" id="page_109" title="109"></a> In the moths +and butterflies these jaws are different. Each one is long, and has a +deep groove on the inner side. These two grooves fit together, and make +a slender tube called a proboscis. When flying this long tube is rolled +up in a tight coil under the head; alighting, the proboscis is quickly +uncoiled and dipped into the throat of the flower, and the sweet nectar +sipped from it. See here, Jack, what have you on your fingers?"</p> + +<p>"The dust from the butterfly's wings, sir."</p> + +<p>"No, not quite dust, or powder, either. That dust is tiny hair and +scales. If I had a powerful lens in my pocket I could show you how +deeply some of these tiny scales are scalloped, so that they look like a +hand with fingers. If you rubbed all the scales off that wing there +would be no color left, for the scales are like little sacs, and many of +them contain grains of color called pigment—red, yellow, or brown. You +have all seen the rainbow of colors on a soap-bubble? Well, the +brilliant colors of the wing are made in just the same way as the colors +on a bubble: by the light striking the little ridges on the overlapping +scales."</p> + +<p>"It is not only we who are fearfully and wonderfully made," said Mrs. +Reece, "but even the<a class="pagenum" name="page_110" id="page_110" title="110"></a> tiniest creatures God has created, and all with a +purpose, all with a place."</p> + +<p>The guide nodded his head. "The more you study, the more you see how +every least thing is part of a great mysterious whole. If you look at a +butterfly's wing from which the scales have been rubbed you will see +plan and purpose in the placing of even those scales; for the little +pits into which the stems of the scale fit are turned all one way, +toward the base of the wing."</p> + +<p>"They are so beautiful!" exclaimed Betty. "Are they always pretty?"</p> + +<p>"That depends," replied the old man, "whether in their caterpillar youth +you think them pretty. They have a bad name, then, for being homely, and +do a good deal of damage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hate caterpillars!" cried Hope.</p> + +<p>"Fuzzy caterpillars hump so and crawl," said Betty.</p> + +<p>"You mean woolly bears?"</p> + +<p>"Woolly bears!" exclaimed the children.</p> + +<p>"Yes; not Teddy bears. They have to play somehow, so they wiggle for +joy, and this takes them along very fast—that is, fast for a +caterpillar. Sometimes they spin a long thread by which they take a +flying short cut and land—on your back."<a class="pagenum" name="page_111" id="page_111" title="111"></a></p> + +<p>Jimmie dropped a tiny twig down Betty's back, which made her scream.</p> + +<p>"But they don't harm us," said Ben Gile. "They are so fussy about what +they eat for dinner that they wouldn't think of biting even the sweetest +little boy or girl. They prefer something far more tender. Ah, you +wouldn't like Isabella!" The old man shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"Isabella! Who is Isabella?" questioned the children.</p> + +<p>"Isabella is always in a hurry," said the guide—"always. She is brown +in the middle, and black on the head and tail end, Isabella is, and she +walks rapidly, as if she had a great deal to do before she could take +time to be made over into a tiger-moth. She stops every once in a while +to make sure she is on the right road; then she hurries along in a +nervous, fidgety way, looking for a nice, comfortable stone under which +to have a winter home, for Isabella is in such haste that she could +never think of taking time to spin a cocoon."</p> + +<p>"But do all caterpillars turn into moths or butterflies?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"Yes, every one, my son, that lives long enough, just as surely as a boy +will turn into a man. The butterfly lays the egg, and after the<a class="pagenum" name="page_112" id="page_112" title="112"></a> egg has +been quiet for a while out comes a little worm; the worm spins the +cocoon, and out of the cocoon comes a perfect moth, or butterfly. It is +a wonderful cycle, a wonderful series of changes. Little boys and girls +seem to be surrounded with more love and don't change their skins as +moths do, but the mystery of life belongs quite as much to the helpless +moth as it does to any one of us."</p> + +<p>"But is a caterpillar an insect, and is a butterfly an insect?" asked +Betty.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you goose," said Jimmie; "you don't expect to hatch a duck +from a hen's egg, do you?"</p> + +<p>But Ben Gile, who was older than Jimmie and decidedly more patient, +explained, carefully: "If you look at a caterpillar and a moth you will +see that their bodies aren't so unlike, after all. They are made up of +rings, and both the moth and the caterpillar have six legs apiece. Most +caterpillars have little prop legs, but these aren't real legs and +shouldn't be counted. Caterpillars eat and eat and eat; they are such +solid little chaps they must need a good many legs, real and false, to +keep moving at all. Well, heigho! stretch your own legs, boys! We'll +leave the caterpillar where it is, and move on to the top<a class="pagenum" name="page_113" id="page_113" title="113"></a> of the +mountain, or we'll never be there in time to eat our own supper. One, +two, three, march!"</p> + +<p>And off they went, talking and laughing and scrambling up the side of +the mountain, which swung dark and steep above them.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_114" id="page_114" title="114"></a> +<a name="CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS_2442" id="CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS_2442"></a> +<h2>XII</h2> +<h3>CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS</h3> +</div> + +<p>The camp was reached. Once there, the children found the other two +guides in the cabin. The cook-tent was already pitched; the +sleeping-tents had been left so that the boys might choose their own +locations and help in pitching them. It was a beautiful place—remote, +wild, two-thirds up the side of the great mountain.</p> + +<p>In front was the famous trout pond, and beyond the little valley made by +the pond the crest of the mountain rose higher and higher. Dusk was +coming on, and the crisp mountain air was filled with the shadows of the +woods; along the mountain summit lay streamers of white cloud. Down, +down, down reached the long fingers of cloud, and up, up, up reached the +deep shadows, just as if a great hand were closing the world in dusk. +Every little sound was as clear in the evening air as the water of the +pond<a class="pagenum" name="page_115" id="page_115" title="115"></a> was transparent. Small shadows moved about the edge of the +pond—deer, they were, said Ben Gile, that had come down to the edge to +drink.</p> + +<p>"Phew, isn't it cold!" shouted the children, as they ran from one thing +to another; "and won't supper taste good!"</p> + +<p>Jack, who hadn't on any stout boots like Jimmie's, and whose jacket was +threadbare and thin, began to think the sleeping-blankets would feel +good when it was time to crawl in. In front of the cabin blazed a big +camp-fire, and around this fire supper was served. "Did stewed apricots, +soda-biscuits, bacon, eggs, hot cakes, ever taste so good? Will they +ever taste so good again? Did hot cakes and syrup ever make the butter +fly so fast?" asked Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>"And, speaking of the butterfly," he went on, "it's not time to turn in +yet, it's too dark to fish or explore, so let me tell you a little more +about the butterfly, and if you don't like it you can just imagine it is +a hot-cake butterfly."</p> + +<p>The children thought this was a great joke. But Peter, who had eaten so +much he was almost asleep, didn't hear what Ben Gile said.</p> + +<p>"Well," the old man continued, just as if he were beginning where he had +left off in the afternoon—"well,<a class="pagenum" name="page_116" id="page_116" title="116"></a> the caterpillar eats so much—it eats +almost as much as Peter does"—at this Peter opened his eyes +good-naturedly—"it eats so much that very soon it grows too big for its +skin, so the old skin splits for the growing body, and out comes young +caterpillar in a clean, new dress—a very easy way for Mrs. Butterfly to +have her babies get new clothes. Don't you think it is, Mrs. Reece?—no +hems to stitch, no buttons to sew on, no darning. The only things their +mothers ever do for them is to start them with the food they like.</p> + +<p>"And such a butterfly this mother is that little she cares whether her +children are considered pests or not, because they eat everything green +that they like, and eat before they are invited. A long sigh of relief +the gardener or farmer draws when the caterpillars lie quiet to pupate. +They lie very, very quiet, with wings, antennæ, and legs folded under +the body."</p> + +<p>"What does pupate mean?" asked Betty, who was poking the fire and +listening hard to every word the old man spoke.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-012" id="illus-012"></a> +<img src="images/illus-117.jpg" alt="moths" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Cocoon of a polyphemus moth.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Cocoon of a cecropian moth. + </span> +</div> + +<p>"It means just that—to lie quiet and change. They do it in different +ways. Some crawl down into the ground and some pull out their silky +hairs, and with these and the silk they can spin they make a soft, +silken cocoon. Some make over their last skin into a hard covering. The +monarch butterfly does this.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_119" id="page_119" title="119"></a></p><p>"And there is a troublesome creature called the clothes moth—Mrs. Reece +can tell you about that—who lays its eggs on anything woollen it can +find. After a while a baby clothes moth, a whitish worm, hatches out. +Then this little fellow eats the fibres of the wool, and finally spins a +cocoon out of these fibres and its own silk.</p> + +<p>"Some caterpillars are leaf-rollers—that is, when they pupate they roll +over the corners of a leaf, make themselves a neat hammock, and there +lie quite still in a cool and comfortable place to sleep."</p> + +<p>Poor Peter had tumbled over, his head on Mrs. Reece's lap. Betty and +Hope, wide awake, were thinking just as much of the wonderful tent in +which they were to sleep as of the butterflies and moths. They were wide +awake enough to point their fingers at sleepy Peter.</p> + +<p>"I think there is one kind of moth," said Mrs. Reece, stroking Peter's +silky hair, "that spins something almost as soft as this."</p> + +<p>"Softer," affirmed Ben Gile; "and that is the silk-worm."<a class="pagenum" name="page_120" id="page_120" title="120"></a></p> + +<p>"Does the caterpillar make the silk our dresses are made from?" asked +Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. The mother moth is a creamy-white. She lays several +hundred eggs; from each of these eggs comes a little worm. These little +worms have been cared for so long by men that they don't know how to +take care of themselves any more.</p> + +<p>"They like to eat the leaves of the mulberry-tree. If these leaves are +not to be found they will sometimes eat lettuce. For forty-five days +they eat as fast as they can, which is a good deal faster than greedy +children can eat.</p> + +<p>"Every ten days or so they cast aside their old skin and come out in a +new one. After the last moulting of the skin the worm begins to spin a +cocoon about itself. At first the cocoon is not very smooth, but in a +while the worm gets well started and spins the rest of it with one long, +silky thread."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that wonderful!" exclaimed one of the guides. "I suppose that +silk is finer than the finest trout-line."</p> + +<p>"A hundred times finer," answered Ben. "Usually it is three hundred +yards long. Before the pupa has a chance to make its way out, and so +destroy the long, silken thread, the man who<a class="pagenum" name="page_121" id="page_121" title="121"></a> has taken such care of the +worm drops the cocoon into boiling water, which kills the pupa at once. +Then the precious silk thread is carefully unwound on to little spools, +and is ready to be made into thread or spun into silk.</p> + +<p>"And now, children, it's time for you to spin your dreams. Shake up +Peter, and we'll get ready for the night. Too bad to leave this fire, +but we can have one as often as we want."</p> + +<p>The boys slept like tops, but there were two little girls who lay rather +wide awake most of the night, listening to the strangest grunting sounds +in the world.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_122" id="page_122" title="122"></a> +<a name="STORM-BOUND_2582" id="STORM-BOUND_2582"></a> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<h3>STORM-BOUND</h3> +</div> + +<p>After two glorious days of exploring—"exploricating," the guides called +it—the children went to bed early, expecting to make an early start to +hunt partridge. They were so tired from their good times that for two or +three hours they slept like tops.</p> + +<p>But in front of the cabin Ben Gile and Mrs. Reece and the other guides +were looking at the night sky anxiously. The lightning flashed more and +more vividly, black clouds were coming nearer and nearer. What was a +distant rumble soon became a near-by, long undertow of ominous sound. +Nearer and nearer it came, until every flash was followed by a sound +like ripping.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reece was very uneasy, for she did not like to have the children in +the tents alone. But soon Betty and Hope came scampering through the +dark to the cabin. They were surprised to<a class="pagenum" name="page_123" id="page_123" title="123"></a> see the older people up. +Before long the boys also came to the cabin rubbing their eyes, yawning, +and pretending not to care whether there was to be a cyclone or a +cloud-burst.</p> + +<p>For a while all sat waiting for the storm to break. When it did break, +what torrents of rain and wind descended! How the trees groaned and +cracked! How the rain roared upon the shingled roof, and how the wind +howled through the mountain valley!</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ben Gile, "let's have a fire in the fireplace, then we can +have a crackle of our own." He had noticed how nervous Mrs. Reece grew, +and that the little girls were watching her. He could not help thinking +that it was foolish, even wicked, to waste strength in fear of something +which no one of them could stop. "Build a fire, boys." And build a fire +they did—a royal good blaze. "Now throw on some of those pine-cones you +children gathered." There was a flare in the cabin almost as bright as +the incessant flare of the lightning outside. "I'll tell you what we'll +do," he continued, "we will have a midnight spread. We will have some of +Tom's famous flapjacks. Mrs. Reece, don't you want to make molasses +candy, and then the children can pull it."<a class="pagenum" name="page_124" id="page_124" title="124"></a></p> + +<p>The storm was forgotten by the children as, with many squeals of glee, +they rushed into this midnight frolic.</p> + +<p>"And now, Ben," said Tom, the guide, "I've just found something; I have +it in my hand. I propose, Ben, while the rest of us work, that you make +one of your stories out of it, and tell us all about it."</p> + +<p>Tom opened his hand, and the children crowded around to see. There was a +shout of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's only a dead June-bug!"</p> + +<p>"Who wants to know about a June-bug?" exclaimed Jimmie, much to the +discomfiture of the guide, who knew a great deal about moose and deer +and bears and beavers, even if he didn't know much about a June-bug. The +guides had profound respect for the schoolmaster, Ben Gile, who was +really too wise and kind to laugh at another's ignorance. But this is +another story, and Jimmie learned better in the years to come.</p> + +<p>"You're right, Tom," said Ben, "to want to know. Sometimes it's about +these commonest things folks know the least. When I was a boy it was +always so with me. There are several facts about a June-bug that are +interesting.<a class="pagenum" name="page_125" id="page_125" title="125"></a> First, it is not a bug at all; and, second, it comes in +May and not in June. It is really a May-beetle, and a great, clumsy, +buzzing, blundering fellow it is, as careless about its appearance as it +is about the way it enters a room. You know the old adage, 'Haste makes +waste'? Perhaps it's the haste that makes the June-bug's untidiness. +Beetles have hard wing covers—see these little shell-like casings?—to +cover the more delicate wings underneath. The June-bug has wing covers, +too, but it never keeps its best wings tucked in. They are always +hanging out in a crumpled way. These bugs eat the leaves of the trees, +and their children, little, fat, white grubs with horny heads, nibble, +as they crawl around under the surface of the earth, the tender roots of +the grass and the strawberry plants."</p> + +<p>"Why, Ben, you've told me more already," said Tom, "than any dullard +like me could ever learn from a book. To think it's a beetle! But I +might have known from looking at it. Are all the beetles harmful?"</p> + +<p>"Most of them are pests, and do a good deal of damage. Its cousin, +rose-beetle, is pretty, her body covered with soft, yellow hairs, and +she has rose-colored legs. But handsome is as handsome does, and +rose-beetle causes more damage<a class="pagenum" name="page_126" id="page_126" title="126"></a> than her clumsy cousin, for Rose feeds +on rose-bushes as well as on fruit trees. Indeed, almost everything that +comes to her mill is grist. She's as bad—and worse—than the +elm-beetle."</p> + +<p>By this time the cooking molasses smelled so good, the cabin fire roared +so pleasantly, and the smell of the flapjacks Adam was frying was so +appetizing, that the children had quite forgotten the storm outside, and +were having one of the jolliest frolics of their lives—one they never +forgot.</p> + +<p>"Tell us something more, sir," urged Jack, "about the beetles."</p> + +<p>"There is one comical fellow who makes me think of Peter. In the books +it is called a click-beetle, but it is also called a skip-jack because +of the somersaults it can turn. On the under side of its thorax is a +spine resting on the edge of a hole. This funny beetle, by pushing the +spine down over the hole and then letting it go, throws itself up in the +air with a sharp click."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know them," called Hope, "for I have seen them doing it, but I +never knew how they did it!"</p> + +<p>"And now," said Master All-Wise, very soberly, "after I tell you that +the children of the click-beetle are called wire-worms, and that they +eat and kill the roots of plants, I want to tell you about a beetle no +one of you has ever seen—a most extraordinary beetle."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-013" id="illus-013"></a> +<img src="images/illus-127.jpg" alt="beetles" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Lady-beetle.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Burying-beetle.<br /> +<i>C.</i> Oil-beetle. +</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_129" id="page_129" title="129"></a>All +were attention at once.</p> + +<p>"Many years ago there lived away out in California a little, round, +brownish, striped beetle, which crawled about and ate heartily of a +plant called the sand-bur. One day one of the family happened to wander +up to a nice, juicy potato plant. After eating its fill it probably +looked up some of its brothers and sisters, and told them about these +good plants growing in the fields. With one accord they left the +sand-burs and began to eat the potato plant. Farther and farther they +wandered, until thousands of them reached the eastern part of our +country, eating the potato plants wherever they found them on the way. +Now, these beetles are to be seen everywhere in our country, spoiling +crop after crop."</p> + +<p>By this time Jack's eager face was smiling, and he was looking +questioningly at Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a beetle do you suppose it was?" asked the old man.</p> + +<p>Nobody knew. At last Jack ventured, "Was it a potato-bug, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" shouted the children. "Why<a class="pagenum" name="page_130" id="page_130" title="130"></a> didn't we think of that? +But you said we had never seen it."</p> + +<p>"So I did," said the guide, "and I don't believe there is one child here +who has ever carefully watched the potato-bug. And there's the +carpet-beetle, whose babies eat carpets unless your mother tempts them +with pieces of red flannel. And there's the searcher-beetle, with its +pretty green or violet wing covers, who is always on the search for +caterpillars. And there's the fire-fly, which is a soft-bodied beetle.</p> + +<p>"And there's the very useful little beetle we call the ladybug, which is +not a bug, but a beetle. The ladybug is a great help to men who own +fruit orchards in the West. All over the country are to be found little +bugs called scale insects. These scales are very bad for trees, because +with their long, slender beaks the scales pump out the sap. Sometimes +they are so thick on the branch that they coat it entirely. You remember +that I told you that one of these troublesome scales is the +cottony-cushion scale, and that one day it was discovered that a +lady-beetle from Australia liked these scales very much. So a great many +of them were taken to California to eat the scales. The ladybugs eat +little green aphids, too, and<a class="pagenum" name="page_131" id="page_131" title="131"></a> often Mrs. Ladybug will lay her eggs +right in the midst of a family of aphids; and then the larvæ are +surrounded by a hearty lunch when they come out of the egg. They eat the +aphids, the scales, and sometimes the eggs of other insects."</p> + +<p>"Time, Ben," said Adam, "to have the flapjacks. I guess the storm must +be blowing over."</p> + +<p>All drew up to the cabin table, and ate as heartily as if they were +eating dinner. It really looked as if the children had had no supper.</p> + +<p>"In about half an hour," said Tom, "the storm will be over. Aren't there +any beetles that live in the water, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; you can see them any day if you go by a brook. The +diving-beetles are skimming about, rowing themselves along with their +flattened hind legs. Every few minutes they come to the surface and lift +their wings to get a little air under them, then down they go into the +brook. They are very hungry beetles, eating other insects which they +find in the water. The boldest often try to take a bite out of a fish. +Just think of calling a baby beetle a water-tiger! Well, these babies +are as savage and ferocious to the little creatures living about them in +the water<a class="pagenum" name="page_132" id="page_132" title="132"></a> as a big tiger would be to us, if we should happen to meet +one.</p> + +<p>"I like best the whirligig-beetles, they are such frisky fellows, always +having a good time, frolicking about with dozens of other little +whirligigs. They are bluish-black and shiny, and if you look carefully +you will see a little bubble at the tip of every tail. This little +bubble is held there by tiny hairs, and because whirligig has it, it can +breathe while it stays under the water. From time to time it comes to +the surface to get a new bubble, then is off again for another race or +game of tag with its friends, and at the same time to snap up a few +water creatures for dinner. It looks as though it had four eyes, but it +has not, just two, divided into upper and lower halves. The upper halves +look up through the water and the lower ones down at the bottom of the +brooks. So, you see, insects must step lively if they want to keep out +of its clutches.</p> + +<p>"The babies of some beetles, instead of liking nice, clean food, prefer +dead animals. The mother and father hunt around until they find a dead +mouse or bird; then they begin to dig away the earth under the mouse or +bird and around it. Finally the poor dead thing is in a deep hole; then +Mrs. Burying-beetle lays her<a class="pagenum" name="page_133" id="page_133" title="133"></a> eggs on it, and together they cover it up +with earth. When the grubs hatch they find plenty to eat, and are soon +big burying-beetles, like their mothers and fathers.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever wonder how the little fat worms get inside of chestnuts +and acorns? A beetle called a weevil is the creature which puts the fat +worms there. Mrs. Weevil has a long, slender, curved beak. She crawls up +on to the side of a chestnut, bores a hole in the side, then lays an egg +deep down in it. After a while the egg hatches and a tiny grub begins to +feed on the nut. Fatter and fatter it gets; sometimes it lies in the nut +all winter, but more often it crawls out and buries itself in the ground +while it grows into a weevil.</p> + +<p>"Some day, as you are walking along a sunny road in the country, you may +meet a blister-beetle. It is a pretty, bluish-green color, and when you +pick it up you will see drops of oil oozing out of its joints. The dried +bodies will raise a blister on the skin, and that is the reason we call +such beetles blister-beetles. There is a queer blister-beetle who lays +her eggs near bees' nests. The baby beetles then wait for a bee to come +along. They fasten themselves to the hairs on the bee's body. When the +bee goes to<a class="pagenum" name="page_134" id="page_134" title="134"></a> its nest to put in the honey the young beetle manages to +get into a honey-cell with the egg. Mrs. Bee does not see that anything +is amiss, seals up the cell, and flies away for another load. The larva +first eats the egg of Mrs. Bee, then it changes into a clumsy kind of a +fellow, floats in the honey, and eats all it can so that it will quickly +become a grown-up.</p> + +<p>"There is one beetle which plants a tiny fungus in its home in the +ground. The babies run along and eat the tips of this delicacy, while +the mothers and fathers take larger bites. These are called +ambrosia-beetles, because of the dainty food they eat. Now that the +storm is over, I mustn't tell you anything more than a few words about +the engraver-beetle, which lives between the bark and the live wood of a +tree. Mr. and Mrs. Engraver-Beetle make a long tunnel under the bark. +Mrs. Engraver makes notches along the sides, and in every notch lays an +egg. When the babies hatch, each one begins a tunnel for itself, running +out straight from the long one. And now that's the end of this story."</p> + +<p>"Well, Ben," said Tom, respectfully, "these children don't know the +value of the things they are learning. It's a privilege, sir, to have a +chance to guide with you. I've learned more in<a class="pagenum" name="page_135" id="page_135" title="135"></a> these last years about +God's wonders from you than ever I learned in all my long life. I didn't +know there were so many beetles in the world."</p> + +<p>"These are only half a dozen of a multitude of beetles which we haven't +the time to name."</p> + +<p>"Now, off to bed, children," said Mrs. Reece, "or you'll never be able +to get up early. Good-night to every one!"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_136" id="page_136" title="136"></a> +<a name="A_DAYS_HUNTING_2847" id="A_DAYS_HUNTING_2847"></a> +<h2>XIV</h2> +<h3>A DAY'S HUNTING</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a glorious day after the night's storm. By five o'clock the +children were ready to go hunting with Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>Although they were rather sleepy, yet they managed to get an early +breakfast—five o'clock is an early breakfast, isn't it?—and by six +o'clock they were off into the woods. Ben Gile made the children follow +behind him in single file, and so in line, making as little noise as +possible, they went through the woods. The birch-trees and poplars, in +the midst of the darker, heavier foliage, seemed golden with the early +sunlight. Everywhere the bushes sparkled with the rain of the night +before. They took a path that ran almost in a curve around one entire +side of the mountain. Ben Gile kept a sharp lookout, for the partridge, +he knew, would be upon the ground or up in the trees. He pointed to +several places where partridge had been scratching.<a class="pagenum" name="page_137" id="page_137" title="137"></a> The woods were full +of them, and every minute he expected to hear the whir of their wings as +they started up. And, sure enough, there was suddenly a loud beating of +wings, and then, crack! crack! crack! from the shot-gun. Down came three +plump partridges. Not more than ten minutes later the old man brought +down three more. Then he let Jack, who was a good shot, take his gun, +and down came two more.</p> + +<p>"Eight partridge," he exclaimed, "and quite enough for us all! We shoot +only what we actually need for food, not a bird more. Oho! somebody else +made a home here. Old Paw Bear has been tearing it out and licking his +chops."</p> + +<p>The children leaned forward, looking eagerly. "What was it?" they asked.</p> + +<p>"Honey," said the guide. "Paw Bear has a sweet tooth for honey and +berries."</p> + +<p>"I should think the bees would sting him," said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"They do try to, but little he cares, with his thick coat of hair. Not a +bit. The bees have another enemy, too, which is always hovering about to +find a chance to get into the busy little house; that is the bee-moth. +If she gets the least opportunity Mother Bee-Moth lays her eggs in the<a class="pagenum" name="page_138" id="page_138" title="138"></a> +wax of the honeycomb, for the baby moths are very fond of wax. It's not +an easy matter to get in when the bees are not looking, but she manages +it quite often; and when the little larvas hatch out of the eggs, they +eat the wax and the mischief is done. When Mother Bee-Moth is seen the +bees rush upon her and sting her to death. They have good cause to hate +her, for the wax is precious, hard to make and to mould into the little +cells. It is not pleasant to have some miserable worm eat the roof from +your head. Oftentimes the bees are so discouraged that they decide, as +they talk it over in bee language, that it is easier to build a new home +than to repair the old one. They settle upon an hour of departure, and +off they go."</p> + +<p>"But I didn't know," said Betty, "that bees live in their hives; I +thought that they just stored their honey there."</p> + +<p>"So did I," said Jimmie.</p> + +<p>It was Jack's time to smile, for, a country boy, he had often watched +the hives. "Couldn't you tell us something, sir? Here's a bit of the +cone left."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to hear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think bees are so interesting!" Betty clapped her hands.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-014" id="illus-014"></a> +<img src="images/illus-139.jpg" alt="LEAF-CUTTER BEE" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">LEAF-CUTTER BEE</span> +</div> + +<p><a class="pagenum" name="page_141" id="page_141" title="141"></a>"Did +you ever look closely at a bee? Their bodies are covered with +hairs, unlike the hairs found on other insects, for each hair is a tiny +plume. And their mouths, which they have to use for so many different +things, are remarkably made; each part is formed to do a certain kind of +work. First there are the strong biting jaws, then another pair of jaws +joined to the lower lip, which move easily back and forth. This forms a +sucking instrument, which the bees use for drinking nectar."</p> + +<p>"My," exclaimed Peter, "it must be convenient to have two pairs of +jaws!"</p> + +<p>"On the head, too, are antennæ, which form little elbows, like those of +the ant. With these the bee smells and feels. Some bees have short +tongues, and usually live alone; others have long tongues, and generally +live in colonies. Perhaps a long tongue makes an insect sociable, and +perhaps sociability makes a tongue grow long."</p> + +<p>The children were looking at their tongues to see which had the longest. +Peter scanned his anxiously. "Your tongue is awfully long, Pete," said +Jack.</p> + +<p>"I know an interesting short-tongued bee who lives in a house by +herself. Her name is Andrena. She bores a hole in the ground, digging +out a wide<a class="pagenum" name="page_142" id="page_142" title="142"></a> hallway. From this she digs side passages, each one ending +in a little closed room. The walls of these rooms are hard and shiny, +like porcelain. When Andrena finishes her house she makes a nourishing +paste of nectar and pollen. Pollen is the yellow powder from flowers. +You know bees, by carrying about the pollen, help in fertilizing the +flowers. But of this we shall learn more some day when we are talking +about the flowers. This powder the bee packs down into the little rooms. +Then she lays an egg on each pile of food and builds a door to shut the +egg away safely."</p> + +<p>"Do bees always feed their children on nectar and pollen?" asked Hope.</p> + +<p>"Always," replied the old man. "They never feed their babies on other +insects, as the ants and wasps do. Then there are the little +short-tongued bees who live in apartments, the apartments all clustered +together, with a common wide passageway into the ground and separate +hallways. Around the main opening is an odd chimney, built on a slant, +which prevents the rain from pouring into the open doorway."</p> + +<p>The children were wide-eyed with astonishment. That bees should build +chimneys was more than they could believe!<a class="pagenum" name="page_143" id="page_143" title="143"></a></p> + +<p>"Goodness!" said Jimmie, "if that is what a short-tongued bee can do, +what can a long-tongued bee do?"</p> + +<p>"They are very clever. Some are carpenters, some masons, some miners, +some tailors. The leaf-cutter bee makes a neat home, covering the walls +with pretty, green leaves. First she digs a tunnel in a suitable branch +of wood; then she goes to a rosebush, cuts out an oval piece of a rose +leaf, and arranges it smoothly on the walls of the tunnel; cuts other +oval pieces and puts them on, fastening the edges neatly together. In +the bottom of the tunnel she puts some pollen paste, lays an egg on the +paste, cuts some circular pieces of rose leaf, which she presses on the +top of the egg and pollen, forming a green roof for the room and a floor +for the room above. She puts in more food and another egg, until the +tunnel is full of little rooms."</p> + +<p>"And what does the carpenter-bee do?" asked Jack, looking with new +respect at the bit of honeycomb he held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"She makes doors of pith, and, like the tender mother she is, sits on +top of the nest waiting for her babies to grow up. This is a most +unusual thing for a bee mother to do. The egg at the very bottom of the +tube hatches first, but it<a class="pagenum" name="page_144" id="page_144" title="144"></a> has to wait until the others hatch. +By-and-by Mrs. Carpenter-Bee takes them all out for a sunny flight in +the summer air."</p> + +<p>"And they never come back any more!" sang out Peter.</p> + +<p>"Indeed they do, you care-free youngster. The pith doors have been taken +down, and they come back to put things in order. They clean house; they +bring out every scrap piece by piece. There is a big carpenter-bee that +makes its doors of chips of wood, usually neatly glued together. There +is just one lazy bee in the world of which I know, and that is a +visiting-bee."</p> + +<p>"Visiting-bees?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the guest-bees, who visit their friends the year round, let their +hosts wait upon them, and never help to keep anything clean or to +collect nectar and pollen. Mrs. Guest-Bee even lays her eggs in Mrs. +Bumblebee's nest, and when the guest babies hatch out, it is not their +mother, but Mrs. Bumblebee, who feeds them from the food she has stored +up for her own children. The guest-bees are so lazy that no little +baskets are found on their legs for carrying pollen."</p> + +<p>"But aren't the bees ever idle?" asked Peter, whose conscience hurt him +because he never liked to work.<a class="pagenum" name="page_145" id="page_145" title="145"></a></p> + +<p>"No bee except the guest-bee and drone is ever idle. The happy-go-lucky +bumblebee, which buzzes so near us on these warm summer days, is always +on the go, although she is easy-going and happy-go-lucky. Mrs. Bumblebee +isn't an over-particular person, as bee persons go. She is not a careful +housekeeper, like her cousin Mrs. Honey-Bee, but she carries her own +burdens just the same, and probably is as contented in her roughly made, +untidy house as Mrs. Honey-Bee is in her beautifully neat one. Sometimes +she has a nest as big as your head, with rooms in it of all sizes and +shapes. She probably thinks the honey-bee family would get along just as +well if they were a little less fussy, and probably she is right. Early +in the spring Mrs. Bumblebee starts out house-hunting. When she finds +the place she wants she puts some honey and pollen there, and lays an +egg on the little pile. After a while the larvas come out of the eggs. +When they have eaten what they want they make a cocoon, and curl up for +a rest while they are being made into little workers. You know, the bee +family is made up of the mother bee, who is called the queen, and many +fathers, who are called drones; all the rest are workers."<a class="pagenum" name="page_146" id="page_146" title="146"></a></p> + +<p>"That's something like the ants, sir, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, something, Jack; but you mustn't tell that story yet. Every one of +Mrs. Bumblebee's first family are workers. While the first workers are +out getting food for their brothers and sisters, Mrs. Bumblebee takes +the old cocoons which they have left behind and makes them over into +rooms for the new babies, who are to be drones and queens.</p> + +<p>"They are very happy all summer long, but as it grows colder they begin +to shiver and shake. At last all die except the young queens, who have +crawled away from the nest and found a warm crack somewhere in which to +take a long nap. When the spring comes the young queens rub their eyes, +stretch their legs and wings, and are off looking for a home for their +coming families."</p> + +<p>"But what kind of bee's-nest did old Paw Bear get into?" asked Hope.</p> + +<p>"This nest was a wild honey-bee's nest. Some honey-bees are wild this +way, but most live close to the homes of men. When they live in our +gardens they live in a hive we make for them, and the families consist +of Mrs. Honey-Bee, the queen, about a hundred Mr. Honey-Bees, and many +thousands of workers. The workers are<a class="pagenum" name="page_147" id="page_147" title="147"></a> the little bees, the drones the +middle-sized ones, and the queen is the great big bee.</p> + +<p>"Men often help the workers to build the little cells in which they +store the honey and in which the queen lays the eggs. These cells are +six-sided rooms. Every day the queen lays an egg in one of the little +rooms, and with it the workers put some pollen and honey. In three days +out comes the larva from the egg. It is a helpless creature, soft and +white, and without feet.</p> + +<p>"Busy, busy workers are always on hand to take the best care of the +babies. The first food the nurses give them is bee jelly, which looks +something like blanc-mange. This bee jelly the workers make in their +stomach, then feed it from their own mouths into the baby mouths. After +lunching a couple of days on bee jelly they are old enough to eat pollen +and honey, which the workers get out of the six-sided rooms where they +have packed it away.</p> + +<p>"These babies grow very quickly. Soon they are so long that they almost +fill their rooms. Then the nurses put in some extra food, tuck in the +babies, and make a roof of wax over each room. For a whole day the baby +has to feed itself, shut away all alone; then it stops<a class="pagenum" name="page_148" id="page_148" title="148"></a> eating, and lies +very quietly while it is being made into a real bee. In about thirteen +days it splits its dried skin, in which it has been napping, gnaws a +hole in the wax roof, and out it comes—a full-fledged bee.</p> + +<p>"But it is too new and young to go out in the big world yet, so for a +few weeks it is kept busy in the hive nursing other baby bees. When it +has grown stronger it leaves the hive, flying out over the sunny +pastures in search of buttercups and clover heads.</p> + +<p>"Whenever the honey-bees want to make a queen they know just how to do +it. You know, a queen is a very important person. A bee queen is like an +ant queen, not the ruler of a kingdom, but the mother of many, many +children. Since a queen is a person of such note, she must have a larger +room than an ordinary worker, so they set to work and tear down the +partitions between two or three cells. When the egg in the large room +hatches the white larva is fed bee jelly, just like the little worker +larva, but it is never given any pollen or honey. When it is five days +old some jelly is put in the room with it and a roof is built over its +head. For seven long days the baby stays here all alone, then it gnaws +its way out, and, wonder<a class="pagenum" name="page_149" id="page_149" title="149"></a> of wonders, we have a queen instead of a +worker!</p> + +<p>"Now, Mrs. Honey-Bee has been the queen of the family so long she is +very angry to have a young queen hatch out, and does all she can to kill +her. But the workers have spent much time and labor in making this +queen, and they stand close around her to protect her from the jealous +old queen. The honey-bee family, however, has grown so big that there is +room for no new babies in the hive, and that is the reason that the +workers have raised a new queen, so that she may start a new family.</p> + +<p>"There is not room in one house for two queens; one must go, and it is +usually old Mrs. Honey-Bee. Surrounded by part of the family, she flies +out of the old home in search of a new place. If she is living in some +one's garden a new hive is all ready for her, and she soon settles down +again to her egg-laying, while the workers hurry to bring in food for +the new babies. If there is no hive ready for this exiled family, it +swarms in a tree or any other good place it happens to find."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Betty; "but do the workers have to work all the time?"</p> + +<p>"They do everything except the egg-laying.<a class="pagenum" name="page_150" id="page_150" title="150"></a> All the pollen and honey +must be brought into the hive by them. Have you ever seen the little +baskets which working bees have for carrying pollen? Perhaps you do not +know what pollen is. Well, some day look right down in the centre of a +flower and you will find some fine yellow powder. That is pollen, or bee +bread, and the bees are very fond of it. On the hind leg of the worker +is a nice smooth place, and on each side of it are stiff, curved hairs +which cover it over. Into this little cage the bees push the pollen, +then fly swiftly away toward the hive. Here this heavily laden little +fellow stands over one of the rooms and pushes the pollen off his hind +legs by scraping with his middle legs.</p> + +<p>"You have eaten honey, and know how thick and sweet it is. Very unlike +the sweetened water in the flower-cups, isn't it? The bees make this +honey out of the watery nectar, and I will tell you how they do it. The +bee sips this sweet nectar into its mouth, then the nectar goes down a +tiny tube into a little pouch called the honey sac. This sac opens into +the stomach, but between the two are little lips which guard the +entrance. If the worker is hungry the little lips open, and the nectar +goes from the honey<a class="pagenum" name="page_151" id="page_151" title="151"></a> sac into the stomach. But if it wants to carry it +back to the hive the lips stay tightly closed. When the honey sac is +full the worker flies back to the hive and empties it into one of the +rooms.</p> + +<p>"Then a number of bees stand with their heads bent downward and move +their wings just as fast as they can, looking like miniature electric +fans. Of course they grow very warm, and this makes the hive warm. This +warm air evaporates the extra water in the nectar, and soon the honey is +all finished. These bees which beat the air so tirelessly keep the hive +fresh and sweet, which is very necessary when so many bees live in one +house.</p> + +<p>"The workers make the cells as well as fill them, and now a very queer +thing happens. A great many bees eat a great deal of honey. They eat all +they can hold, then crawl up to the top of the hive. There are as many +there as can find room; the rest hang on to these until a curtain of +bees is formed. Sometimes they hang quietly and patiently for several +days until, on the under side of the abdomen, tiny shining plates of wax +appear. Other workers break off these pieces of wax and build them up +into cells. You know how big a pound is, don't you? Well, just think how +many, many times the bees must<a class="pagenum" name="page_152" id="page_152" title="152"></a> carry honey to the hives when I tell you +that twenty-one pounds of honey will make but one pound of wax. Bees are +very economical with their wax. When they have to patch up holes and +fill in cracks in their hives they do it with a gum which they scrape +off sticky buds.</p> + +<p>"All summer long these workers are laying in food to keep this large +family during the cold weather. If for any reason the supply of food is +low the workers sting the babies to death rather than have them starve. +Is it any wonder that these workers, who have so much to do and so many +cares from morning until night, die very young? The queen may live for +two or three years, but the workers do not live longer than six or eight +weeks."</p> + +<p>"Goodness me!" said Jimmie, "I wouldn't have believed there was any +insect on the face of the earth as clever as those bees! If insects were +all like that, I'd want to know about every one of them. Can't you tell +us something of the wasp? They must be clever fellows, too."</p> + +<p>"Not to-day," answered Ben Gile; "it is getting toward noon, and we must +start home for dinner and to get our partridge cooked. Pick up the +birds, Jack, and put them in your game-bag. We must be off."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_153" id="page_153" title="153"></a> +<a name="LEAVING_CAMP_3182" id="LEAVING_CAMP_3182"></a> +<h2>XV</h2> +<h3>LEAVING CAMP</h3> +</div> + +<p>At last the day had come, and the children were to leave +Camp-in-the-Clouds. They had been there for one whole glorious week of +fishing, hunting, camping, picnicing, stories, and sleeping in tents. +Betty and Jimmie felt rather sober, for the time for them to go back to +the city was drawing near. A week now, and their good times for the +summer would be over. Already the leaves were turning a little, and the +air growing crisper every day. Indeed, up in Camp-in-the-Clouds they had +twice in the early morning to break the ice on the spring in order to +get the water, and at night the blankets felt warm and cosey. Betty and +Jimmie liked their city home, and after they were once in it they +enjoyed their school work, too. They had many friends, entertainments, +parties, and made many expeditions to the Zoo and to the parks. But, +somehow, the happiest days of all the year came<a class="pagenum" name="page_154" id="page_154" title="154"></a> in the summer in +Rangeley Village. Every hour seemed precious to them now, and the +fingers on Betty's right hand—the number of days that were left—were +all too few. Even Jimmie, who cared less for the country than Betty did, +was sorry. And the children were sorry to have them go. All through the +cold, white winter in Rangeley Village they were expecting the Reece +children and the old guide. With their coming, good times began again.</p> + +<p>And this morning, on which they were leaving camp, they felt rather +blue, for, although they expected to come back the next summer, as +indeed they did, yet it seemed such a long, long time to wait! They +followed Ben Gile single file down the mountain at a good pace, but +without saying very much. By noon they had reached the Dead River Ponds, +and were ready for luncheon.</p> + +<p>"I think some of that birch, Tom," said Ben Gile, "would make a good +fire for us."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-015" id="illus-015"></a> +<img src="images/illus-155.jpg" alt="wasps" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Feeding the baby wasps.<br /> +<i>B.</i> A grown-up wasp. +</span> +</div> + +<p>Tom, who was a famous woodchopper in winter, went off toward the tree, +followed by lazy little Peter, who loved to see others work. Soon the +chips were flying right and left. Suddenly there was a yell from Peter. +Tom dropped his axe. Ben Gile hurried over to the boy, and the others +crowded around. Tom was sure a splinter had<a class="pagenum" name="page_157" id="page_157" title="157"></a> gone into Peter's eye. The +lad was holding on to his eye, and jumping up and down with pain. But as +Ben Gile was trying to make the boy take his hand away, Tom exclaimed, +grabbed one hand with the other, and made for the pond. "It's hornets, +Ben!" he called; and before the others could say anything he had clapped +some mud on his own hand and brought mud for Peter's eye, which he +poulticed with this useful material, and tied around it a big white +handkerchief. Although Peter did not in the least like the bite, yet he +felt rather proud of the bandage, and for the first time in his life he, +too, wanted to know about the creatures who could give so much pain.</p> + +<p>"Tell us, sir," the children cried, "about the wasps while dinner is +cooking."</p> + +<p>So Ben Gile, who had left the cooking to the other guides, gathered the +children and Mrs. Reece about him, and began: "One day last fall I saw, +high up in a tree near the pond, the pretty, gray nest of Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp. It did not look like a real house, with windows in it and +steps leading up to it. But there it hung, swinging in the bare +branches, its walls of pretty, soft gray blending so beautifully with +the pale-blue sky.<a class="pagenum" name="page_158" id="page_158" title="158"></a></p> + +<p>"I wondered whether any of the wasp family was at home, but the house +was too high for me to reach, so I went away to find a long pole with +which to knock. With my long pole I knocked gently at first, then louder +and louder, but no one stirred within. So I poked harder, trying to +break off a strong branch which ran straight through the top of the +house. At last it broke off, and down came the gray house almost into my +arms.</p> + +<p>"It was big and round, like a Japanese lantern. Guess of what it was +made? Just paper. But not our kind of paper; it was wasp-paper. Mrs. +Vespa and her family make this paper out of wood-pulp, which they get by +scraping off the weathered wood from trees and fences. Of course this +old wood is of various colors, but that makes the house so much the +prettier. One wasp comes back with its burden of woody pulp rolled up in +a little pellet. This it takes and spreads in thin ribbons along the +edge of the wall which is being made. Perhaps this edge is dark gray. +Then off it flies for more material, while another takes its place with +a pellet of light gray, which is soon skilfully moulded on to the edge. +Sometimes the outer wall consists of several layers of this wasp-paper, +which is<a class="pagenum" name="page_159" id="page_159" title="159"></a> strong and waterproof. Within the wall are many stories of +cone, built like different floors in our own houses.</p> + +<p>"Early in the spring Mrs. Vespa-Wasp, who has been passing the cold +winter days tucked away in a warm crevice somewhere, comes out and finds +a site for her summer home. She begins this as a very small and simple +one, starting with just a few rooms fastened to the branch of a tree. +Here she lays an egg in each little room, then brings in food for the +new baby wasps which are in the making. The kind of food which is stored +away depends upon the kind of wasps. Some like beetles, some spiders, +some caterpillars, and others grasshoppers and cicadas.</p> + +<p>"As in the bee family, the first children are all workers, because Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp needs assistance in building up the home and feeding the +children. This first home is small, not nearly large enough for the +growing family, so new rooms must be built at once. These are added on +to the first ones until there is a good-sized layer of them. If Mrs. +Wasp should go on making this upper story larger and larger, it would be +buffeted about by the wind and rain, and perhaps broken. So the family +starts a<a class="pagenum" name="page_160" id="page_160" title="160"></a> second story under the first. On the under side of the top +floor some of the cells are broken away and a stem is made to start the +next floor, and so on, until there are four or five combs in the house. +They are always building the house over, tearing down the walls to make +room for new floors; but this does not make the house unsafe in the mean +time, as the walls are not connected with the floors, but form a loose +envelope about them.</p> + +<p>"Later in the season, after the family has become very large, some of +the upper cells are torn out, making a nice, warm attic, where the +family may go to keep out of the wind and rain. They dislike the cold +and wet very much.</p> + +<p>"I carried this big house to my cabin with me, so that I might look it +over and see just how it was arranged. Very carefully I cut away a +little of the outer wall until I had a place large enough to look +through. Guess what I saw lying cuddled down in many of these rooms? +Little, soft, white baby wasps. When the Vespa family are grown up they +are called hornets, and Peter and Tom know how hornets sting! I was not +afraid of the babies, but was not sure that all the old wasps were out. +It was a cold day, and wasps get stiff very quickly, so I watched<a class="pagenum" name="page_161" id="page_161" title="161"></a> +carefully to see whether the warm air of the room would not limber up +some stiff joints which were perhaps in hiding up-stairs in the house. +Sure enough, in a few moments out crawled a worker, looking quite dazed +and sheepish at the change in temperature. I did not wait for it to +become thoroughly awake, but picked it up with the forceps and put it +out of the window. I was kept busy, for twenty-five old fellows walked +out, thinking, no doubt, that they had made a mistake in the season, and +that it was not time, after all, for them to die. All the wasp family, +except the queens, expect to die, and do die in the autumn.</p> + +<p>"I could not find either flies or spiders for the babies, and even if +there had been a few about I could not have used them, as there was no +worker wasp to chew them soft and fine for them. So I made a nice, +appetizing syrup of sugar and water, and found that young wasps were as +eager for sweets as little children are. They worked their baby mouths +busily as long as I had the patience to feed them. When the Vespa family +are grown up they eat honey dew from the little aphids, fruit juice, and +the nectar from flowers, or, if fortune favors them, they may gain +entrance to Mrs. Honey-Bee's home,<a class="pagenum" name="page_162" id="page_162" title="162"></a> and feast from her well-filled +honeycombs. But the babies all eat insects which their mothers put in +the little rooms beside the eggs.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Polistes is a cousin of Mrs. Vespa. She is long and slender, while +Mrs. Vespa is rather broad. Her house is a much simpler affair. It has +just one layer of rooms suspended by a stem from the under side of a +porch, or maybe the eaves, of a house."</p> + +<p>"Are there solitary wasps," asked Jimmie, "just as there are solitary +bees?"</p> + +<p>"Many wasps prefer to live alone rather than in a big house with +hundreds of others. They are like bees in their cleverness, knowing how +to tunnel in wood, dig deep pits in the ground, or make nests of mud. +Mr. Kellogg, a very wise man, and young to be so wise, tells of one +interesting little wasp, called the thread-waisted sand-digger, which +lives in California in the salt-marshes. These marshes are covered by +plants, but in between are little smooth places covered with a +glistening crust of salt. It is in these open spots that Mrs. +Sand-Digger makes her home. She has strong jaws, and with these she cuts +out a neat little circle of salty crust. Then she begins to dig a +tunnel, humming away to herself all the time. After the hole is ready<a class="pagenum" name="page_163" id="page_163" title="163"></a> +she very carefully backs out of it and puts a circular door on.</p> + +<p>"Then she flies away to find food to store up for her children. These +babies like tender, green inch-worms, so Mrs. Digger-Wasp hunts around +until she finds a fat one, and then proceeds to paralyze it, so that it +will stay quietly in the house until the babies are ready to eat it, for +baby digger-wasps are little cannibals, preferring living caterpillars +to any pre-digested spiders or flies. It is very wonderful that Mrs. +Digger-Wasp knows where to sting a caterpillar in order to paralyze it +and yet not kill it. But she does. Perhaps you remember that insects +have knots of nerve cells, connected by nerve threads, extending from +one end of the body to the other? Jimmie remembers that I pinched him to +illustrate this point. The knot on the top of the food-tubes is the +brain, then underneath there are usually three in the thorax and several +in the abdomen. Well, Mrs. Digger-Wasp stings one or more of these +little knots, which we call ganglia. That paralyzes the young inch-worm, +so that it becomes limp and helpless, but still lives. Then Mrs. Wasp +picks it up and carries it to her house, and packs it in the bottom of +the tunnel.<a class="pagenum" name="page_164" id="page_164" title="164"></a></p> + +<p>"After putting in five or ten she lays an egg, fastening it on the body +of one of the worms. She backs out of the tunnel, and flies off to +collect balls of dirt. With these she fills up the tunnel completely. +Carefully she puts the little round door on. One day some one saw her do +a curious thing. She wished to be very sure that the door was fast shut. +Perhaps it did not fit well. So she found a tiny pebble, held it in her +jaws, and hammered the door down with it. Wasn't that a clever thing for +a wasp to do? The door closed, this is all the attention she gives to +baby digger-wasps. She has put in plenty of food, even for the hungriest +larva. Now it must look out for itself, eat, grow fat and strong, and +then dig its way out into the salt-marsh.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Eumenes is a good-looking little wasp dressed in black and yellow. +She is a mason, making a pretty mud vase for a home. The clay, or mud, +she moistens, then moulds it, little by little, into the vase, which she +fastens on to a twig. Some mud-daubers make small cylinders placed side +by side. Into these they put stung spiders, after tearing off their legs +to make sure they will not recover and run away before the eggs hatch. +Sometimes the mud-daubers plaster<a class="pagenum" name="page_165" id="page_165" title="165"></a> up the keyholes in a house, and so +have snug homes.</p> + +<p>"One day last summer, as I was sitting outside my cabin, I noticed a +wasp carrying something green in its mouth. It came close to my head, +then finally crawled up under the shingles on the side wall. All the +afternoon it came and went, each time bringing something green. The next +afternoon I was loading my guns, and had put a hollow gun-barrel on a +table at my side. Soon I heard a whir of insect wings, and there, on the +table, was my wasp friend. It walked up and down, examining very +carefully the hollow barrel, then cautiously it crawled in. In about +five minutes it crawled out again and flew away. Soon it was back with a +piece of green in its mouth. It crawled into the barrel and left the +green. Six times the wasp did this; then my curiosity became so great I +could wait no longer. When she flew away I tapped the barrel on the +table and emptied out six little green worms, all limp and still. But +Mrs. Wasp was back again, and I guiltily withdrew. She had brought the +seventh worm, and when she saw the six lying on the table she was much +puzzled. She went around and poked each one to see whether it was limp, +fearing, perhaps, that<a class="pagenum" name="page_166" id="page_166" title="166"></a> she had not stung them hard enough; but, finding +them helpless, she picked them up one by one and patiently carried them +back into the gun-barrel. Three times I emptied them out, and three +times she put them back, then flew away, never to return. I suppose the +last time she went in she laid the egg among the little worms, and then, +her duty done, was off to find another good place to start a family.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen a big cicada which makes the long, rasping sound in +the trees? Some wasps like these very much for food. So, when cicada +sings, Mrs. Wasp swoops down on it, stings it, and then, big and clumsy +as it is, carries it to her home for her children to feast upon."</p> + +<p>"A cicada is three or four times as large as a wasp, isn't it?" asked +Mrs. Reece.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but there is nothing the wasps can't do," replied Ben Gile.</p> + +<p>"I should think not!" exclaimed Peter, who by this time was able to +smile again.</p> + +<p>"The trout are ready, Ben," said Adam, "and everything else, too, I +guess."</p> + +<p>With running and laughter the children were soon about the fire, eating +their last delicious out-of-door dinner.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a class="pagenum" name="page_167" id="page_167" title="167"></a> +<a name="EYES_AND_NO_EYES_3442" id="EYES_AND_NO_EYES_3442"></a> +<h2>XVI</h2> +<h3>EYES AND NO EYES</h3> +</div> + +<p>The evening party at Ben Gile's cabin was to be the last of all the +beautiful summer, for the next day Betty and Jimmie were to leave with +their mother for the city, and this was the evening which was to decide +who was to receive the prize.</p> + +<p>Betty had been working very hard for it, and wanted it. But Jimmie +couldn't see any use in lying with your nose on an ant-hill. As for +Peter, he giggled whenever ants were mentioned to him, and seemed not to +care much one way or another. Hope, however, was often with Betty, and +the two girls, flat on the grass, tried to discover as many mysteries as +they could about the busy little fellows. As for Jack, he was as busy as +the ants, following them about, lying quietly for hours, and borrowing +any book he could find that would tell about them. It seemed to him that +if he could have<a class="pagenum" name="page_168" id="page_168" title="168"></a> that magnifying-glass, that book of colored plates, +and the five-dollar gold piece, he would be the richest boy in all the +world! He thought about it by night and by day, and he was certain that +with the insect book and the glass, he should discover things nobody +else in the world had ever seen.</p> + +<p>The poor boy was trembling with eagerness on this evening of the party +at the guide's cabin. The children took their turn in telling what they +knew. Peter giggled, and said they seemed to lug a good deal of food. +Jimmie said they ran in and out of their ant hills very fast, and knew +how to build big hills. Hope was so frightened that, when it came her +turn, the child could not tell even the little she knew.</p> + +<p>But Betty, who loved everything in the out-of-door world, forgot herself +and her fright in the true love which she had for natural history. She +said she had spent hours in a neighborhood of ants, near the doorways +they had in the ground. Some of the doorways were large, and some were +small, and the little ants who went in and out of the doors carried off +the pieces of cake she fed to them. Sometimes the crumbs were three or +four times as big as the ants. She had seen two little ants attack a +large piece of<a class="pagenum" name="page_169" id="page_169" title="169"></a> cake, but it proved too much for them, so one mounted +guard over it while the other scurried off. In a few moments it came +back with a whole squad of ants, who surrounded the cake and pushed and +pulled with all their might. They actually got it to the door, Betty +said, and after that she could see it no more. Then Betty spoke a little +wistfully: "If only I had been an ant I could have gone down after it. I +could have seen what they did with it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear," said Ben Gile, "if you want to see what they do, start +a colony of them some day in a glass case. That will solve a good many +of your problems. And now, what else?"</p> + +<p>"I saw them doing a good deal that was interesting, sir, but I couldn't +understand it."</p> + +<p>"It's your turn, Jack. We will come back to Betty by-and-by."</p> + +<p>"I found out, sir, that in every ant colony there are always three kinds +of ants—the queens, the males, and the workers. It's much like what you +told us of the bees. And it seemed to me, sir, every time I looked at +them, that they were happy together, busy with their work and never +quarrelling with one another. I suppose they were happy because each one +had some special work to do. I looked it all up in the<a class="pagenum" name="page_170" id="page_170" title="170"></a> books, and I +found that some are born queens, to be waited on, while others are born +workers, to do the serving. But they are all contented.</p> + +<p>"The queen ant is not a real queen ruling a little kingdom; she is the +mother ant, and lays all the eggs. She is well cared for and protected +by the workers. These are the active little ants who do the work. They +are happy, too, running about, digging new passageways, clearing the +paths to their front doors, and bringing in food, which they store in +their granaries. Some ants, sir, build their tunnels very deep +underground. A doorway opens into a wide gallery, from which others +branch and wind their way down into the dark ground. Sometimes they +build a high mound around the entrance, and often a large colony will +have many such mounds."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:500px'> +<a name="illus-016" id="illus-016"></a> +<img src="images/illus-171.jpg" alt="ants" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> +<i>A.</i> Honey ant.<br /> +<i>B.</i> Ants exchanging greetings. +</span> +</div> + +<p>"Some ants," added Ben Gile, "dig out their homes in dead logs or hollow +stems. I know of one little fellow who is clever enough to build a shed. +It hunts around to find decayed wood. This it chews into a fine pulp, +then spreads it out into a roof; sometimes it is a good-sized roof. This +same ant dearly loves the honeydew which aphids secrete. So in order to +protect these helpless little green bugs, and make them as comfortable +and contented as possible, they<a class="pagenum" name="page_173" id="page_173" title="173"></a> build a neat shed over them. When the +ants wish a dainty luncheon of honeydew they crawl up under the little +shed and get a drink of this sweet juice. Although a colony of ants +lives together so peacefully, Jack, they are apt to be very quarrelsome +with their neighbors; often they go to war with another colony if the +members of that colony happen to trespass on their grounds."</p> + +<p>"I found out about some naughty, lazy ants, sir. Instead of taking care +of their own homes and hunting up their own food, they go out to war +against another kind of ant, which is living quietly and attending to +its own business. All the grown-up ants these little fighters either +kill or frighten so that they run away as fast and as far as their legs +will carry them. Then these lazy ants steal the eggs and the babies. +Some of them they eat on the way home, but most of them they carry to +their underground galleries. There they take good care of them until +they are grown up. Then these stolen babies become the slaves of the +lazy ants; but the poor little slaves have never known any other life, +so they cheerfully serve their masters, doing everything for them; in +fact, so long have these masters had little slaves to wait upon them +that they<a class="pagenum" name="page_174" id="page_174" title="174"></a> do not know at all how to look out for themselves. They have +been known to starve to death rather than to feed themselves."</p> + +<p>"But there are many respectable ants," objected Ben Gile, "and I will +tell you how a well-regulated household behaves. One day last summer, +when I was walking in the afternoon, I found myself suddenly surrounded +by a cloud of winged insects—thousands and thousands of them. I caught +one of them and found that it was a winged ant, for the males and queens +have wings with which to fly away on their wedding journey. This journey +lasts only a short time, and usually many colonies fly up together in +the bright summer air. The wedding journey is a picnic for hungry birds. +Just think of finding such a mass of juicy morsels at one time. They fly +into the crowd and eat as many of the ants as they can. But many escape. +At last they become exhausted. The males fall to the ground and die. The +queens break off their wings, because they never need them after the +wedding journey.</p> + +<p>"They look about for a good place to start a new home. The first thing +the queen does is to lay her eggs in a neat little pile. These soon +hatch out into larvæ; tiny, worm-like grubs<a class="pagenum" name="page_175" id="page_175" title="175"></a> without any legs. Queen +ants feed their babies faithfully with nice, tender insects, which they +chew for them. Sometimes these larvæ spin a tiny cocoon, in which +they lie quietly while they are being made over into ants—perhaps into +a queen, like the mother, or a male, like the father; perhaps into a +worker, which is the mainstay of the whole colony. This first family of +babies the queen mother must look out for herself, but just as soon as +the baby workers are grown up it is their turn to help her.</p> + +<p>"The first set of workers are very small. From morning until night they +are busy. Early in the morning they must go out for food, to catch +insects for the queen's breakfast and for the queen's baby ants. To be +sure, it does not take long to prepare this meal, as it is chewed for +the babies instead of cooked. Then the house must be set to rights, +extra grains of sand must be cleared out of the paths and galleries. +Perhaps some careless little girl or boy may have stepped on the mound +around the entrance and crushed it. The workers hurry to clear away the +ruins, and soon have a new mound neatly piled up. Tell us, Jack, what +you know about these workers."</p> + +<p>Jack's face was bright with eagerness. "Well,<a class="pagenum" name="page_176" id="page_176" title="176"></a> sir, in ant homes there +are always babies, lots of them, just as in other homes. These little +larvæ must be fed often and kept clean. The workers are the nurses as +well as housekeepers. If the babies happen to be in a cool, damp part of +the house they must be carried into a warmer, drier place. So the +workers pick them up and take them out for an airing. Often they carry +the little cocoons out into the warm sunshine or move them about from +place to place. In some families of ants there are some with very big +heads and strong jaws. These are the soldiers. If there is any trouble +in their village these big-headed fellows go out as scouts or act as +sentinels around the ant-hill. But the head of the worker is rather +small. It's a clever head, though, sir. On it are two antennæ, +bent, sir, like sharp little elbows. You told us that ants talk with +their antennæ. These feelers are very sensitive. I watched two ants +one day and saw them rubbing them together."</p> + +<p>"I am sure," said Ben Gile, "that some very exciting and interesting +conversations are carried on by these fellows."</p> + +<p>"Back of the head," continued Jack, "is the thorax, with the six legs, +then a very narrow piece joining the thorax and abdomen."<a class="pagenum" name="page_177" id="page_177" title="177"></a></p> + +<p>"I know of one ant," added the guide, "who is nothing more or less than +a honey-jar. This honey-ant hangs by its legs from the roof of its home. +The little workers go out and visit the oak-trees and hunt around for +balls called oak galls. From these they get honey, which they carry home +and feed to the little fellows hanging on the ceiling by their heels. +The honey is stored away in their crops. All day these honey-jar ants +are fed, until the abdomens are as big as a currant, and the sweet, +yellow honey shines through the skin. When any of the family gets hungry +it crawls up to one of these fat little fellows and takes a refreshing +sip."</p> + +<p>"I know of another ant," began Jack, who could scarcely wait to begin, +"who lives in the home of a larger ant. This one builds small tunnels +connected with the large ones of the big ant, but is careful to make the +doorways so small that the big ones cannot creep in and eat up the +babies. When Little Ant gets hungry it crawls up on Big Ant's back. Very +gently it strokes its head, then licks its cheek until the mouth of Big +Ant fairly waters. This is just what Little Ant intends the mouth shall +do. It laps up the drop of sweetness, crawls down, climbs on the back of +another big ant, and has a<a class="pagenum" name="page_178" id="page_178" title="178"></a> second luncheon. Sometimes little thief ants +live in other ants' houses, stealing the food which the workers have +been so busy collecting all the long day."</p> + +<p>By this time the children were listening in open-eyed astonishment to +Jack, who had absorbed so much of the spirit and the information of the +old guide that he could talk almost as interestingly.</p> + +<p>"Mother aphids," interrupted Ben Gile, "who like corn very well, lay +their eggs at the roots of the corn. But if the babies hatch out before +the corn roots are ready there is a family of ants who come to the +rescue. They carry these babies over to some other roots, where they may +feed until the corn roots grow. Later they carry them carefully back +again. Of course, they do not do this because they care for the welfare +of the aphids, but because they know if the little corn lice have plenty +to eat they themselves will have plenty of honeydew, which they love."</p> + +<p>"And there's a harvester, sir, who builds a big mound around its front +door and carefully clears away the grass. Into the long galleries of its +home it carries a great many seeds, and stores them away. All the chaff +and hard parts which it cannot eat it carries out again."<a class="pagenum" name="page_179" id="page_179" title="179"></a></p> + +<p>"Leading up to the big mound," added Ben Gile, "are clear pathways as +distinct as any path you or I make through the grassy fields. Perhaps +ants are too little to do very much thinking, but they do many things +which you and I would have to think about a long time before we should +be able to do them. They have a good government which runs along without +friction. They can build roads, dig tunnels, spin silken webs, build +sheds, go to war, harvest grain into the storehouses, and keep a farm of +aphids."</p> + +<p>By the time the old guide had finished Betty was waving her hand the way +she did in school. "Please, sir, I don't know half as much as Jack does. +He has told all I know, and more, too."</p> + +<p>Ben Gile smiled at Betty, for he was very fond of her. He stroked his +white beard, and went on smiling as if he had some pleasant thought in +the back of his head. "Well, now, we must decide who has won the prize. +Mrs. Reece, what do you think?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reece was proud of her Betty, and would rather have had her the +generous little girl she was than have her win all the prizes in the +world. "I think Jack has abundantly earned the prize."</p> + +<p>"And now, children, what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Jack!" they all shouted.<a class="pagenum" name="page_180" id="page_180" title="180"></a></p> + +<p>"Jack," said the guide, bringing forward three parcels, "here is the +five-dollar gold piece—this will help you buy what you need; here is +the book, which will help you to identify what you see; and here is the +magnifying-glass. Remember, my boy, as you look through it, that it is +God's work you are seeing. We have been through the old story of 'Eyes +and No Eyes' with you boys. Peter, I'm afraid, goes out and sees +nothing. You, Jack, have used your eyes, and already you have learned +much that ought to make you a wiser man. As you look through the glass +it is well to reflect that you will never see a cathedral window as +beautiful as some wings you look upon, from the clear lights of the +cicada's wing to the gorgeous dyes of the moth. You will never see groin +or arch or hinge more wonderful than the covers of a wing or the +exquisite joint of some little insect. You may travel the world over +before you can find, made by man's hand, such mystery and beauty as lie +about you in the natural world. All the dynasties of Egypt could not +shape the scale on a moth's wing. All the religion of the past can shape +nothing that will do the Creator so much reverence as the world He has +created, the world we have about us. There, my boy, that is a<a class="pagenum" name="page_181" id="page_181" title="181"></a> long +sermon, but you will profit by it, for the world will hear of you yet.</p> + +<p>"And now there's a little girl in this room who has worked faithfully to +find out what she could. She is five years younger than you, Jack, and I +want her to have something, too."</p> + +<p>For a minute Jack looked troubled; then he said, resolutely, "Let me +give her my book, sir."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Jack," replied Ben Gile, pleased with the lad's generosity. "I +have an extra book here." Betty's face was beaming. "Now let me write in +your books; then to supper, around our last camp-fire for this summer."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the children were about the fire, and there was the +smell of roasting corn, the sizzle of broiling partridge tied around +with bacon, and the fragrance of coffee for the older people. The +firelight seemed particularly jolly. Betty was very happy with her book +(nor would she be parted from it the next day on the train), and Jack +was radiant. They ate and talked and sang about the camp-fire, thought +Ben Gile the wisest man in the world, Mrs. Reece the kindest of mothers, +hoped that next year would come soon, and wanted to know what stories +they were to hear when the long winter was over.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it will be birds," said the guide; "perhaps fish; perhaps +flowers; maybe it will be spiders and crabs. Next summer is a long way +off. And now I have to go back to my school."</p> + +<p>In a short time a line of lanterns was seen swinging and dancing up the +hill of Rangeley as the children filed homeward. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Little Busybodies + The Life of Crickets, Ants, Bees, Beetles, and Other Busybodies + + +Author: Jeanette Augustus Marks and Julia Moody + + + +Release Date: June 27, 2007 [eBook #21948] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE BUSYBODIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 21948-h.htm or 21948-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948/21948-h/21948-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948/21948-h.zip) + + + + + +LITTLE BUSYBODIES + +The Life of Crickets, Ants, Bees Beetles, and Other Busybodies + +by + +JEANNETTE MARKS and JULIA MOODY +of Mount Holyoke College + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +[Illustration: +1. Cicada Killer +2. May-fly +3. Lacewing-fly +4. Dragon-fly +5. Aphis +6. June-Beetle +7. Cicada +8. Lady-Beetle +9. Mole Cricket +E. L. Beutenmuller] + + +Harper & Brothers Publishers +New York and London +MCMIX + + + * * * * * + + +STORY-TOLD SCIENCE +For Children from Eight to Fourteen Years of Age + +Other Books for the Series: + +CRUSTY COUSINS: Crabs, Spiders, etc. + +SHELL DWELLERS AND URCHINS: Clams, Oysters, Snails, Starfish, Sea +Urchins + +HATCHING WATER BABIES: Fish and Frogs + +BIRD WITS + +LITTLE MAMMALS + +FLOWERS + +A series intended to cover simple types of plant and animal life, +arranged in logical order + + + * * * * * + + +Harper & Brothers, Publishers, N. Y. +Copyright, 1909, by Harper & Brothers. +All rights reserved. +Published April, 1909. + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + + A WORD TO THE CHILDREN AND THE WISE v + + I. THE JOURNEY 1 + II. RANGELEY VILLAGE 11 + III. THE LITTLE ARMY (Locusts and Grasshoppers) 21 + IV. FIDDLERS (Crickets) 34 + V. HOW KATY DID (Katydids) 43 + VI. FISHING (Dragon-flies) 50 + VII. THE SWIMMING-POOL (The May-fly) 61 + VIII. THE RAINY DAY (Leaf and Tree Hoppers) 68 + IX. THE PRIZE (Lace-Wing, Ant-Lion, and Caddis-Worm) 77 + X. A NAGGING FAMILY (Flies and Mosquitoes) 90 + XI. CAMPING OUT (Butterflies and Moths) 103 + XII. CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS (Butterflies and Moths, continued) 114 + XIII. STORM BOUND (Beetles) 122 + XIV. A DAY'S HUNTING (Bees) 136 + XV. LEAVING CAMP (Wasps) 153 + XVI. EYES AND NO EYES (Ants) 167 + +NOTE.--We do not think it practicable to give classifications except as +they exist unnamed in the above titles: (1) straight winged: locusts, +grasshoppers, crickets, katydids; (2) tooth-shaped: dragon-flies; (3) +ephemerals: may-flies; (4) half-winged: leaf and tree hoppers; (5) +nerve-winged: lace-wings, ant-lions, and caddis-worms; (6) two-winged: +flies and mosquitoes; (7) scaly winged: butterflies and moths; (8) +sheath-winged: beetles; (9) membranous-winged: bees, wasps, and ants. + + + + +A WORD TO THE CHILDREN AND THE WISE + +We hope that the children who read this book will like the boys and +girls who are in it. They are real, and the good times they have are +real, as any boy or girl who has lived out-of-doors will know. And the +stories are true. Peter is not always good. But do you expect a child +_always_ to be good? We do not. Sometimes, too, the frolics turn in to a +scramble to catch a dragon-fly that will not be caught, and there are +accidents. Also, Betty and Jack work hard to win a prize which the guide +gives to the child who learns most about ants. + +Of course it would be impossible for five children to go in search of +locusts, grasshoppers, crickets, katydids, dragon-flies, May-flies, +leaf-hoppers, lace-wings, caddis-worms, butterflies, beetles, bees, +wasps--and so many other six-legged creatures that among them they have +wings and legs enough to fill a new Pandora's box--without having a +good deal happen. And a good deal does happen. It is all true enough, +and every word about the six-legged busybodies is true as true. The +other books, too, that come after this in our _Story-Told Science +Series_ will be every word true. + +And we who wrote this book? Well, we, too, have been children. We used +to climb trees and turn somersaults; why--But that is another story! And +we remember so well what it used to be like to have to learn dull things +we did not wish to know. So we said to ourselves, as we looked over our +spectacles at each other, "No, they sha'n't be told a single +uninteresting fact; they sha'n't be dull, poor dears, as we were so long +ago, before we put on spectacles and began to call ourselves wise." + +And so, although we sat down and wrote a book just about long enough for +a school-year's work; although we felt very proud because our stories +had more wonderful six-legged creatures than any book written for +children; although we took pains to have in the book only such little +creatures as any one of us could see any day; although we hoped that +mothers and teachers would say, "At last, this is a book the children +and I can like and find useful!" or, "There, that will help as a +starting-point to tell about the bees and the flowers!" or, "This story +about the flies will teach the children what it means to be clean!" +Although, I say, we hoped all these things, yet our chief hope was that +we might give all sorts of children a good time. + +So we put our spectacles on and looked very wise, and took a quantity of +ink on our pens and began to write. And we wrote and wrote and wrote. +And part of the time, while one of us was writing and hoping the stories +would be so interesting the children would want to write about them, +too, the other was drawing and labelling each sketch so plainly that any +child could understand it, even if the ears were quite where they could +not be expected to be, or there were more eyes than, seemingly, one +creature ought to have, or wings and legs served to make music, as no +sensible child could possibly guess. + +And now we can't do better than wish you a good time before we say +good-bye. We wish you to enjoy all the frolics, to feel how jolly it is +to be out-of-doors in the woods and fields and lakes, climbing, +canoeing, picnicing, and swimming. + +But still more, we hope that you will realize that more wonderful than +the most wonderful fairy story ever told is the marvel of the created +life of these little insects; we want you to come to know something of +their joys and troubles; we want you to learn how to be kind to them, +and how they may be useful to you; and we want you to find out for +yourselves the places they take in the great plan of creation. + +In other words, we want you to think and feel about the lives of these +six-legged busybodies, and see for yourselves how much even a butterfly +can add to the interest and beauty of living. Does this seem a little +bit like a sermon? Well, you see, we forgot we had kept on our +spectacles so long, and somehow spectacles always turn into sermons. +Perhaps it is because both begin with the letter S. + +And now this is all of our short word to the wise. We expect to make +each one of our books better than the last, and you can help us to do +this by writing any suggestions you may have. We shall be glad to hear +from children, big or little. + +J. M. and J. M. + +South Hadley, Massachusetts, +January 27, 1909. + + + + + + +LITTLE BUSYBODIES + +I + +THE JOURNEY + + +"It will be stories all summer, won't it?" said Betty to her mother. + +"Yes, dear." + +"And hunting, too?" said Jimmie. + +"Hunting with your new gun and hunting with your camera." + +Jimmie unfastened the case of his new camera and looked in. What a +beautiful one it was, and what pictures he meant to take, and how the +camera would impress Ben Gile! Jimmie looked about proudly. He knew no +other boy in that whole great train had a camera like the one his father +had given him. + +"Mother, when will it be lunch?" asked Betty. + +"Luncheon so soon!" + +"I'm as hungry as a bear," declared Jimmie. + +"And hear Kitty mewing; she's hungry, too." Betty looked at the big +round basket, whose cover kept restlessly stirring. + +"Did you leave something in the baggage-car for Max to eat?" Mrs. Reece +asked Jimmie. + +"Yes, mum. It's one o'clock; can't we have something now?" + +"As late as that! No wonder you chickens are hungry for--" + +"Chicken!" squealed Betty. + +"And ham sandwiches!" added Jimmie. + +"And chocolate cake!" + +"And root-beer!" + +"And peppermints!" + +"Ssh!" said Mrs. Reece, "or every one in the car will know what little +piggies you are. Ask Lizzie for the basket." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Outer wing of locust. +_B._ Inner wing of locust. +_C._ Sideview of locust. + _a._ Antenna. + _b._ Simple eye. + _c._ Compound eye. + _d._ Thorax. + _e._ Abdomen. + _f._ Breathing pore. + _g._ Ear. +_D._ Hind leg of locust.] + +Every minute the air was growing cooler. The children could smell the +pine woods, and once in a while the train flashed by a great big +sawmill, or a lake set like a sapphire in the deep green of the forests. +And the hills were rolling nearer and nearer in great shadows. The +children ate their luncheon contentedly, looking out of the windows and +thinking of the mountains there would be to climb, the ponds, the +streams to fish, the pictures to take, and the stories they were to hear +the summer long. + +"Mother," said Betty, eating her second piece of chocolate +cake--"mother, what will Ben Gile tell us this summer?" + +"Let me see," said her mother, "perhaps it will be about the little +creatures--grasshoppers and katydids, butterflies and bees." + +"Goody!" + +"Pooh!" said Jimmie, "I don't see what you want to know of those old +things. I'd much rather hear about porcupines. There isn't anything to +say about a grasshopper except that it hops." + +"Isn't there, my son? Well, that shows that you don't use your eyes. +Suppose some one said there was nothing to say about you except that you +whistle?" + +"Well, what is there about an old grasshopper, anyhow?" + +"I don't know, but Ben will." + +"But tell us something, mum," urged Jimmie, who loved his mother dearly, +and was certain she knew more than anybody else, in part because she had +been to college, but chiefly because she was his mother. + +"Let me see," said Mrs. Reece, "I shall have to think about it." Both +of the children came as close to her as they could, while she continued: + +"What a strange world it would be if there were no insects in it! We +should have no little crickets chirping in the sunny fields or in the +dark corners and cracks of our houses. There would be no katydids +singing all night, no clacking of the locusts in the tall grass along +dusty roads, no drowsy hum of bees. There would be no little ants and +big ants digging out underground tunnels and carrying the grains of sand +as far from their doorways as possible. There would be no brightly +colored moths and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. We should +find no sparkling fairy webs spun anew for us every morning." + +"But, mother, all these creatures aren't insects," said Jimmie. + +"Yes, they are, dear. It is hard to believe that they all belong to the +same family called insecta, but they do." + +"Mother, what's that word mean?" + +"It doesn't mean anything more than cut up into parts. You see, Betty, +all these insect bodies are made up of separate rings joined nicely +together. If you look carefully you will find that behind the head there +is another distinct part. This is called the thorax, which means chest. +Behind that there is a pointed part of the body, which is called the +abdomen. Then, if you look again, you will see that all these little +creatures are alike in that they have six jointed legs." + +"And are they all good, like the bee and the butterfly?" asked Betty, +who wasn't always a good little girl herself, and who thought it would +be much nicer if insects were naughty sometimes. + +"Not all, dear," answered Mrs. Reece; "some do us real service, but +others are troublesome; insects are such hungry little fellows, and they +don't have chocolate cake every day to keep them from getting hungry. +They are hungry when they are babies and hungry when they grow up. Some +eat all they can see--like a little boy I know--and some prefer the +tender leaves and twigs. Some care only for the sweet sap flowing into +the new leaves and buds. And still others like best the tender new roots +of plants." + +"Mother, what are the baddest ones?" asked Betty. + +"Pooh! I know," said Jimmie; "the beetles are, because they eat +everything. Why, they'd eat the buttons off your coat or the nose off +your face or--" + +"Jim! Jim! do tell the truth! The beetles, and bugs, too, are the most +troublesome. Many of the bugs are such tiny little creatures that it is +hard to realize that they can hurt a plant. But bugs have sucking beaks. +With these beaks they bore into the leaves or the buds of the plant, and +then by means of tiny muscles at the back of the mouth they pump up the +sap. To be sure, one little pump could do no harm; but think of millions +of little sucking beaks, millions of little pumps busy at work on a +single plant! Do you remember the pansies mother had in the winter, and +how they were all covered by green plant-lice? Well, those are bugs +called aphids. You remember they were pale green, just the color of the +plant, and so transparent and soft they looked most harmless. The scale +insects are very troublesome, too, but mother doesn't know anything +about them." + +"Oh, I know what _they_ are," announced Jimmie, "they get into the fruit +trees." + +"And sometimes onto shrubs, too. Mother has heard of a scale insect out +in California which has been a great nuisance to fruit-growers. A +certain ladybug finds this cottony-cushion scale a tender morsel, so +many ladybugs were taken out there to help the owners of the fruit farms +get rid of the scale." + +"Did they carry them all the way out, mother?" + +"Yes," answered Jimmie; "they got a Pullman car for them, and Mr. and +Mrs. Ladybug and family travelled in style." + +"Mother, tell Jim to be still." Betty, not unlike other little sisters, +hated to be teased by her brother. + +"And now, let me see," said Mrs. Reece. "I don't know that I can tell +you any more until I know more myself. Yes, I do know what baby beetles +are called. They are called grubs, and they live in the ground until it +is time for them to turn into grown-up beetles. While they are babies +they eat as much and as fast as they can, as no baby but a beetle +should. The more they eat the sooner they come out into the bright world +as a June-bug or some other kind of beetle. They eat all the tender +little roots they can find. This is very nice--" + +"For Mary Ann, but rather hard on Abraham." + +"You horrid boy," said Betty, "you don't even let me hear a story in +peace! It's very nice what, mother?" + +"It's very nice for the little grubs, but it's rather hard on the +plants, for if too many roots are nibbled away the plants die. The +caterpillars are great eaters, too." + +Betty leaned over and whispered something to her mother; then they both +giggled. + +"I know what you're saying," said Jimmie, but after that he was quieter. + +"Sometimes a caterpillar will thrive on just one kind of a plant; it may +be carrot, it may be milkweed. On that it feeds until it has grown as +large as possible. Then it spins itself a nice silken cocoon, or rolls +itself up in a soft leaf and takes a long, long nap. And now it is time +for us to take a nap, too, for we shall soon reach Bemis, and then there +will be still two long lakes to cross and a carry to walk." + + + + +II + +RANGELEY VILLAGE + + +The next morning great was the stir in the town, for it was known by the +village children that Betty and Jimmie had come, and by the grown-ups +that Mrs. Reece was there. All winter long the children had looked +forward to their coming, for it meant jolly times: picnics, parties, +expeditions, and games. Then, too, Ben Gile would begin to tell them +wonderful things. Through the winter he had been teaching school, and it +was only when the ice broke up in the big lake and the beavers decided +to stop sleeping that Ben Gile came back to his guiding. + +There was great excitement about Turtle Lodge. Lizzie kept flying out +with rugs, and then forgetting they hadn't been brushed and flying in +again. The cat was playing croquet with the balls and spools of an open +work-basket, and Max had discovered an old straw hat which tasted very +good to him. Only Mrs. Reece kept her head and stayed indoors, moving +about quietly from room to room, putting the house in that beautiful +order which little children never think about. + +Out on the grass that sloped down to the street, which, in its turn, +tumbled head over heels down to the lake, Betty and Jimmie were playing +with their playmates. They were all so wild with joy that every time +Jimmie saw another boy he shouted, "Come over!" when the boy was coming, +anyway, just as fast as he could. + +Up, up from the foot of the lake climbed an old man; up, up, up the +steep street he came, his white hair shaking and shining in the brisk +June breeze, his long, white beard caught every once in a while by the +wind and tossed sideways. + +"Mother," called Jimmie, "Ben Gile is coming!" + +Out came Mrs. Reece to greet the old man. + +Then, one by one, the children spoke with Ben Gile. + +"You're having a good time before you can say Jack Robinson, aren't +you?" + +"Yes, sir," came in a chorus of voices. Then, "Tell us a story; tell us +a story!" + +[Illustration: +_A._ A few facets of the compound eye of an insect. +_B._ Brain and nerve cord of an insect.] + +"Not to-day," said the old man. "Why, you want a story before you've had +time to turn around." + +Betty stuck her head out from behind her mother. "Mother said you would +tell us about crickets and moths, and everything." + +"Well, well, well," murmured the old man, "did she? But I can't tell a +story to-day. I'll tell you, though, something, so that when you come to +collect the little creatures you'll know what to do. All sit down." + +They all sat down cross-legged on the ground, the old man in the middle. + +"Here, you big Jim-boy, catch me that butterfly." + +There was a wild rush, and the bright wings were soon caught. + +"There, you've torn off one of its legs," said the old man. + +Jimmie looked troubled. "I didn't mean to, sir." + +"Do you know how it hurts to have your leg torn off, boy? Do you know, +children?" + +"No," came in a chorus. + +The guide took out a piece of paper and drew a picture on it. "There, +every part of that little fellow's body I've drawn has muscles, such +fine muscles no naked eye could ever see them. I'll show them to you +under the microscope in my cabin. Those muscles move the body, and each +muscle is controlled by threads, still more fine, called nerves." + +The old man reached out like a flash and pinched Jimmie. + +"Ouch!" cried the boy, and there was a shout of laughter from the +children. + +"You felt that?" + +"I guess I did," said Jim, sulkily. + +"Well, that's because you're made something the same way this butterfly +is. When anything hurts us it's because some of our nerves are hurt, and +quick as a flash the news travels to the brain, and we try to get away +from the thing that causes pain--a pinch, perhaps, or, still worse, the +hurt of a poor leg that has been torn off." + +"But a butterfly hasn't any brain," objected Jimmie, who was still +cross. + +"Hasn't it? Well, we'll see. Now, you watch my pencil." He pointed to +the head of the butterfly. "This little fellow has a very tiny brain +there. Also running through the body, from end to end, is a little tube +through which the food passes. It is in the head above this tube where +the tiny brain is, and from which two little threads run down around +the tube and join to form another little knot of nerve cells like that +of the brain. Then, from this second one there runs a series of little +knots united by fine threads the entire length of the body, one in each +ring of the body. Do you understand that?" + +"Yes," piped up Betty, "mother told us an insect is made up of rings, +and--and--" she stammered, surprised at her own boldness, "the word +means cut up into parts." + +"Good! Why, that's a real bright girl. Well, from each one of these +knots nerves go to the muscles of the body." + +"It's just like a lot of beads on a string," said Hope Stanton. + +"So it is, child. So, you see, if we handle an insect roughly, squeezing +it too hard, or breaking a leg or a wing, a message is sent to one of +these little beads or knots or nerve cells, and the poor, helpless +creature suffers pain." + +"But I didn't mean to hurt that butterfly!" + +"No, of course you didn't. The only way to do," said the old man, "is to +catch them in a net. Make it of bobinet with a rounded bottom, sewing it +to a wire ring and fastening it to a handle that is the right weight and +length for your arm." + +"But then, after you caught it, how could you keep it, sir?" asked +Betty. + +"There are two merciful ways," said the old man, "of killing insects, +but neither way is safe for children to try. Put a few drops of +chloroform on a piece of cotton under a tumbler turned upside down. Put +the insect inside. It will soon fall asleep without pain. The other is a +cyanide bottle. I have one down at the cabin. It must be kept tightly +corked and never smelled. The cyanide in the bottle is hard and dry. +Several insects may be put into the bottle at the same time. Once there +they die very quickly. After large insects are killed the wings should +be folded over the back, and they should be placed in a little case like +this. See, I'm folding a piece of paper to form a three-cornered case. +Then I bend down one edge to keep the little case closed." + +At this moment out flew Lizzie with a curtain which she was going to +shake. + +"Here, here!" shouted the old man, "don't shake that; catch that +caterpillar on it. I want it." + +Lizzie made a good-natured grab at the caterpillar, and then there was a +cry of pain. "Oh, begorra, begorra, I'm stung by a wasp, I am! Ow!" But +she still kept tight hold of the caterpillar as she danced about. + +"No," said the guide, "you're not stung by any wasp. Bring me that! +There, open your hand. You see, the caterpillar stung you." + +"Oh my, what a beauty!" exclaimed the children. "But caterpillars don't +sting." + +"Oh yes, they do," continued Ben Gile, with a twinkle in his eye; "ask +Lizzie." Lizzie was looking at the palm of her hand, which showed how +badly it had been stung. + +"Now, you see, we'll need something to pick up these little creatures +with--a pair of forceps or something of that kind. At least, you must be +very careful." + +"And what else do we need?" asked the children. + +"A little hand lens will magnify the small parts of an insect a great +deal. It will show you all the tiny hairs on the body, and the little +rings and the feelers and the facets of the eyes, and many another +wonderful thing." + +"What are we going to put the bugs in?" inquired Jimmie. + +"Lizzie will get you a small wooden box," said Mrs. Reece. + +Lizzie went off grumbling something about guides and bites and insects, +but soon she came back with a nice box, and in a minute all the +children's heads were clustered about Ben Gile as he showed them how to +line the box with a layer of cork, how to steam the insects a little if +they were dry, and then how to put the long, slender pins through the +chest of the insect and stick it into the cork. + + + + +III + +THE LITTLE ARMY + + +Ben Gile shook his head. As his hair was long and white, and his hands +moved with his head, just as if he were a lot of dried branches moving +in the wind, it was enough to frighten little Betty. "Plagues of Egypt! +Plagues of Egypt!" he kept muttering. Now, Betty had been to school a +long time--I think it must have been as much as two whole years, which +is a very _long_ time for school and a very _short_ time for climbing +trees--now, Betty had been to school and knew better. She crept behind a +big beech-tree, but she stuck her little head out and said, in a +trembling voice: + +"It was locusts, sir, wasn't it--and wild honey?" + +Betty wasn't at all certain that any kind of honey could be a plague. + +"It was locusts, child--yes, you're right," answered the old man. +"Locusts it was; but you eat wild honey." + +Betty came out from behind the tree and whispered, "You eat them +_both_?" + +"So men did in the Bible," said Ben Gile, and washing his sugar-pails, +and putting his maple sugar camp--a very sweet place for a little girl +to be when there are still piles of maple sugar packed away on the +shelves--in order for the summer. + +In all her short life Betty had never known another old man like him. In +the winter he taught school; in spring he made maple sugar; in summer he +was guiding about the ponds or looking up into the trees most of the +time; and in the fall he cut wood before he went back to teaching; but +what was oddest of all to Betty was that he knew the squirrels and deer +and rabbits as well as he seemed to know little girls or little boys. +There was a story told in those woods about his taming even a trout so +that one morning it hopped out of the water and followed him everywhere +he went--hop, hop, flop behind him. And in the evening, as Ben Gile and +his tame trout were passing by the pond again, the trout fell in and was +drowned. But, dear me, that is a fish story, and you mustn't believe any +fish stories whatever except those your father tells! Still, if your +grandpa is fond of fishing, you may believe his fish stories, too. + +[Illustration: +_A._ A locust. +_B._ Cast-off skin of a young locust.] + +Betty came out farther from behind the tree. "Please, sir, do _you_ eat +grasshoppers?" + +"Not yet, my dear." The old man's eyes twinkled. "I knew a little boy +once"--Betty was wondering whether this old man had ever been a little +boy himself--"I knew a little boy once who wasn't afraid to swallow even +a caterpillar, but I think that little boy never thought of eating a +grasshopper." The old man shook his head gravely. "No, not a +grasshopper." + +"Please, sir," said Betty, coming right up to the bucket he was washing +in the brook--"please, sir, do you know any stories about grasshoppers?" + +Ben Gile laid his finger along his nose and thought. Betty was sure he +knew a hundred million stories, and that he could tell her something +about anything she might ask for in all the world. + +"Well, once upon a time," the old man began, "there was another old man +who was a great deal wiser than I am, and a great deal richer, my dear, +for he owned a whole kingdom and lived in a palace, and his name was--" + +"Solomon!" called out Betty, dancing up and down, out of pride in her +own wisdom. + +"Right! And this other old man said: + + "There are four things which are little upon the earth, but + they are exceedingly wise: + + "The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their + meat in the summer; + + "The conies are but a feeble folk, yet make they their houses + in the rocks; + + "The locusts have no king, yet go they forth all of them by + bands; + + "The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in kings' + palaces." + +"But that's not a story." + +The guide shook his head. "You don't know a story, child, when you hear +one. It began, 'Once upon a time,' didn't it?" + +"Yes, sir; but please tell me another." + +"Well, there are others in the Bible, my dear, about locusts and +grasshoppers." + +"But, please, sir," said Betty, who was almost ready to cry, she was so +teased--"please tell me one of your _own_ stories." + +Ben Gile began to swash his bucket up and down, up and down, in the +stream until the water fairly rocked. Then he pulled the bucket out of +the water, set it beside him, and reached out after a locust. + +"Here he is." There was a long pause. Betty thought he would never go +on. "Well, once upon a time there was a little army and all its uniforms +were brown and green, and from the meanest soldier in the ranks to the +lieutenant-commander this little army was made up of insects who +belonged to the same tribe. Let me see--there were the grasshoppers and +the locusts and the katydids and the crickets." + +"Please, sir, were they cousins?" + +"I think they were, my dear. Yes, first cousins, and, unlike even my +first cousins, they all have wings, and straight wings like this." + +The guide gently spread out one of the wings. + +"Just where the back of your chest is these wings grow--two pairs of +wings, my dear, and two pairs of wings mean a good deal more than two +pairs of new shoes. This first pair is straight and narrow and hard, +because it is meant to cover the gauzy wings underneath. Puff!" + +Away flew the locust. + +"You see, he doesn't use his first pair, but holds them out straight +from his body while he spreads out the gauzy ones like a--like a--" + +"Fan!" shouted Betty, quite forgetting the tiny squirrel who had come up +near her, and, at her shout, nearly jumped out of his little red +jacket. + +"A yellow fan," said the old man. "And some have a red fan. Well, I +think," said he, reaching for his pail, "there isn't going to be any +more of this story." + +"Not any more? But there must be more, sir; I've seen hundreds and +hundreds of them on a dusty road, and, please, they're just the color of +the dirt." + +The guide shook his head. "Not to-day." + +By this time Betty was so eager to have him go on that she had forgotten +all about being afraid of him. "And when they whir up from the road, +sir, they say, 'Clack! clack! clack!'" + +The old man made a sound like the noise of a locust. + +"How does it make its mouth move, sir?" + +"It doesn't make its mouth move, child. It makes the noise by striking +the edges of the gauzy wings and hard wing covers together. See, this +way!" And the old man struck his arm and leg together. "It has another +fiddle, too, which it uses when it makes the long, rasping, drowsy sound +of summer days. Then it rubs the rough edges of its hind leg against the +edge of its wing-cover." + +"Please, is it happy, then?" asked Betty. + +"Just as happy as a healthy locust, who lives in long, sweet-smelling +grass and is contented with his own singing, can be, and that is very +happy." + +"Oh!" said Betty, "it doesn't use its mouth, then? Jimmie said it did." + +"Jimmie's a stupid boy. See this fellow." The old man held the locust +toward Betty. "With its upper lip, broad, you see; and there is the +lower lip made in two scallops, and there's a short feeler on either +side, and another pair of soft jaws with a feeler. Hidden away under +those parts is a pair of dark-brown, horny jaws which open like two big +swinging gates." + +"What makes them so big?" + +"The better to eat you with, my dear." The guide worked his jaws until +Betty, half afraid and half pleased, screamed and ran behind a tree. +"Oh, how they can eat!" growled the old man, "more than any little girl +or boy I ever knew! Years and years ago, when your mamma was a baby, +they mounted up into the air from the Rocky Mountains and flew eastward +in a great cloud. Down they swooped upon the fertile valleys in rustling +hordes, and ate everything in sight--grass, grains, vegetables, and +bushes. They ate and ate and ate until they had eaten up fifty million +dollars' worth of food, and the poor farmer could hear nothing but the +sound of the chewing of those ever-swinging jaws. Now, be off, little +girl, or my pails won't be clean." + +"Oh, please, sir, just tell me how they jump and breathe." + +"Dear, dear, see this fellow!" He had wet a little grain of maple sugar, +and a tiny meadow grasshopper which had alighted on his knee was pushing +the sweet stuff into its mouth with both fore legs. "Child, you must +never," said the old man, savagely, "push your food in that way." + +"Please, sir," answered Betty, "I never do, because I eat with my fork +and my knife. Please, sir, are they happy when they jump?" + +"Looks like a horse, doesn't it?" asked the old man. "It's made for +jumping. Think of all the training it takes to make a jumper of your +brother at school. Well, this chap can jump ten times as far. It's born +with a better jump than the longest-legged boy you ever saw. But the +locust might get its head cut off when jumping if it weren't for this +little saddle that covers the soft part of the neck. Mr. Locust can't +always look before he leaps, as a little girl can, and the knife edge of +a blade of grass would cut its head right off if it weren't for this +saddle. See, here are its long leaping-legs, and on the back edge of +these are some spines to keep it from slipping, and the feet are padded +with several soft little cushions that keep it from chin-chopping itself +to pieces when it lands after a long jump. And here, my dear, are little +rest-legs just behind the front legs. With these Mr. Locust hangs on to +a blade of grass when tired--a fine idea, child; every little boy and +girl ought to have some rest-legs like the locust. And the locust has +some extra eyes, too." + +Ben Gile was going so fast now that Betty was listening to him, mouth +open, as he pointed with a blade of grass to one thing after another. + +"You see, the locust has two big eyes, and there in the middle of the +forehead it has three little eyes, and with five eyes there isn't much +it can't see. And here on the body are two tiny shining oval windows. +These are ear-laps, and that, my dear, is the way it hears. And upon the +sides of the body (the thorax--that is, just the chest) and his abdomen +are tiny holes. The air enters through these, and that is the way Mr. +Locust breathes." + +"Oh," said Betty, "then it hasn't got any nose? I thought everything in +the world had a nose." + +"And this little body," the old man went on, "is as strong as a grub +hoe. With it the locust makes holes in fence rails, logs, stumps, and +the earth, and in those holes mother locust lays her eggs. See, those +four spines are for boring holes. With these Mrs. Locust bores a hole in +the ground, and then with these same spines she guides the bundles of +eggs into the hole and covers them up with a gummy stuff. There the eggs +stay until next spring, when, my dear, out comes a little hopper with no +wings, and this little hopper is called a nymph. It grows and splits its +skin, grows and splits its skin, and with its new skin--it has five or +six skins, and leaves all its old clothes hanging around on the +bushes--its wings grow bigger and bigger. At last it flies off just as +its mother and father did a year ago." + +Ben Gile tossed the locust into the air and called out, "Shoo!" clapping +his hands loudly together. Out from the woods came two baby deer, a +wise, gentle old cow; from the cabin came a mother cat and three kittens +and a big black dog; and from the trees scampered down a half a dozen +squirrels. + +"Time for dinner." + +Betty went up to him and whispered something in his ear. The old man +nodded his head solemnly, and the little girl went trotting along the +path to Rangeley Village. + + + + +IV + +FIDDLERS + + +There was the greatest scurrying around in the fields on the edge of the +woods about Ben Gile's cabin. Little girls and boys were flitting hither +and thither with pretty nets and small boxes strapped over their +shoulders. Inside the boxes there seemed to be just as much hopping +about as there was outside. + +By-and-by the guide put his head out of his cabin door and called, "How +many have you?" + +"Oh, lots and lots!" the children answered. + +"Bring them in." And the children trooped into the cabin, which they +thought quite the most wonderful place in the world. Its walls were +lined with books and cases. The books were not only in English, but also +in French, German, Italian, Latin, Greek, and other languages, and the +cases were filled with scores of specimens, the most beautiful +butterflies, moths, beetles, birds, flowers, and rare stones. The floor +of the cabin was covered by different kinds of skins. Besides, there +were telescopes, field-glasses, magnifying-glasses, specimen cases, old +weapons, and a flute. And by the great wide fireplace, in front of which +the guide was cooking biscuits and cookies in a reflector oven, lay +several kittens, the old black dog, Thor, and a dappled fawn which Thor +was licking. + +"Those crickets sound like pop-guns," said the old man, slipping more +cookies into the oven and setting a pan of biscuits on a shelf by the +hearth. + +"Oh, please," said little Hope, "we've got bushels of them!" + +"Now we'll let those cookies bake while we 'tend to the fiddlers. Are +four pans of cookies enough for five children?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"Now, Hope, let me have your bushel box. H'm," he murmured, peeping in, +"all dressed for the party. What color?" + +"Brown, sir." + +"Black, too," said Betty; "and on a few," she added, "there's a stripe +or a weeny spot of color." + +"Oho!" exclaimed the old man, "what have we here?" He took a pale little +creature from Hope's basket. + +"Why, it's white and green tinted," called Jimmie. "That isn't a +cricket." + +"Isn't it? Well, it's a first cousin which lives in the trees and loves +its tree home so much, like the sensible little fellow it is, that it +sings 'Tr-e-e-e, tr-e-e-e,' as fast as it can trill all summer long. But +it is very harmful to the tree, because when egg-laying time comes it +cuts a long slit in the trees in which to lay its eggs. Just a minute!" +The old man shifted the position of the baker, and out came such a good +odor of cookies that all the children sniffed with delight. "Here, +Jack," he said, to a brown little fellow in ragged clothes and bare +feet, "you have a singer in your box." + +"I didn't catch but one," said the lad. + +"Briers aren't good for bare legs, are they? Never mind, your crickets +won't eat one another." + +"Eat one another?" cried the children. + +"Yes, crickets are cannibals, like some other insects, and they +frequently eat a near relation or a friend, as the people in the Fiji +Islands used to do. This is a nice brown little chap, Jack. Do you know +how he makes his music?" + +[Illustration: +_A._ File on wing of cricket. +_B._ Scraper on wing of cricket. +_C._ Mrs. Cricket.] + +"Why, I suppose," said the boy, "he opens his mouth the way Mr. Tucker +does in the church choir, and--" + +There was a shout of laughter from Jimmie, who was sure he knew a great +deal. + +"Well," said the guide to Jim, "then how does it make its music, since +you know?" + +"Not with its mouth." + +"Then how?" + +"I don't know, sir," stammered Jimmie, who found he didn't know as much +as he thought he did. + +"When Mr. Cricket sings," went on the hermit, "it lifts its two wing +covers so that the edges meet like the pointed roof of a house. Then +your little fiddler, Jack, rubs one edge against the other." + +All this time Peter Beech had been waving his hand about, the way +children do in school, and giving big sniffs. + +"Please, sir, the cookies are burning." + +"Bless my soul!" The guide whisked the cookies away. + +"Please, sir," said Jack, "are we going to have something soon?" Jack +did not look as if he had his share of food to eat, for he was as thin +as the fawn which had curled up near him. Jack had twelve brothers and +sisters, and a father who wasn't what he ought to be, so there were +times when there was no food for Jack. + +"Yes, my son," said the guide, kindly, for the old man could guess how +hungry the lad was. "But, first, where do you suppose the crickets and +katydids have their ears?" + +"Near those big eyes," called Peter. + +"No, no, on the joint of the fore leg is a little membrane, which is +just a thinner, tighter place in the skin of the leg. There!" Ben Gile +had the fore leg of Jack's cricket stretched under the magnifying-glass. +The children could see plainly the film of tight skin. "Underneath the +thin, tight skin is a fine nerve which, when the air makes the skin +shake, changes the motion into sound. Mrs. Cricket listens with her fore +leg while Mr. Cricket sings his love-song to her." + +At this the children laughed and laughed, and comical little Peter put +up his leg as if listening. + +"Here, Pete, give me your box. Do you remember what I told you about +Mrs. Locust, Betty, and the way she lays her eggs?" + +"Yes, sir. She has four straight spines at the end of her body, and +after she has bored a hole with her body she guides the eggs in with the +four spines." + +"Good! Well, Mrs. Cricket wears at the end of her body a long spear. See +this cricket of Peter's. Now she bores her hole with this spear and +then guides her eggs carefully into the hole. Why, see here, Pete, what +have you got here?" + +The children gazed eagerly over the old man's shoulder. + +"My, isn't it like velvet!" exclaimed Peter. + +"And isn't it brown!" added Hope. + +"But look at its stumpy front legs!" called Jack, who had forgotten his +empty stomach in the excitement about this little creature, which looked +like a cricket and yet was so different. + +"And its little beads of eyes!" said Betty. + +"Do you know what it is?" No one knew. "Well, it's a mole cricket. You +rarely ever see one because they live underground and bore their way +along just like moles, leaving tiny tracks and nibbling the roots of +tender plants. You see, it doesn't need eyes any more than the mole +does. But it does need those thickened fore legs to do its underground +digging. Now, children, run out into the fields and let your crickets +go. Be careful not to hurt them. We'll have supper, and after supper +we'll catch a katydid." + +Out ran the children. Soon they were setting the long wooden tables +under the trees with delicious trout the boys had caught, with hot +biscuits and jugs of maple syrup, with berries and cookies, with milk +from the old cow, who, contentedly chewing her cud, was looking at them +through the low crotch of a tree, and with little cakes of maple sugar +which the guide had moulded into the shape of hearts. + + + + +V + +HOW KATY DID + + +Never did trout, cookies, and maple sugar disappear so quickly; never +were such appetites; never such laughing, and such interesting stories +told by the guide. + +"Hush!" said Ben Gile. "Do you hear that?" + +"Yes," cried Peter. + +"What is it?" + +"It's a katydid," said Betty, "over there." + +"Listen, children, what does it say?" + +"It says, 'Chic-a-chee, chic-a-chee,' over and over again," answered +Jack. + +"Pooh," interrupted Jimmie, "it says, 'Katy did, Katy didn't!'" + +"It says, 'Katy broke a china plate; yes, she did; no, she didn't,'" +called Betty. + +"Yes, she did; no, she didn't!" the children shouted, merrily, together. + +"Well," said the old man, "anyway, it's all about what Katy did do and +what Katy didn't do. Probably Mr. Katy, like other good husbands in the +world, is singing of the wonderful things Katy did do and the naughty +things she didn't do. That is Mr. Katy's love-song. Ah, he finds Mrs. +Katy very charming--her beautiful wings, her gracefully waving antennae, +her knowing, shining eyes! Now, listen again. Katydid carries its +musical instrument at the base of its wing cover. On each side is a tiny +membrane and a strong vein. When the wing covers are rubbed together the +membrane speaks, and you hear--" + +"Katy did, Katy didn't!" shouted the children. + +"Do you think you know where they are? Well, take these lanterns"--the +guide had lighted half a dozen--"and find them." + +The children scurried off, certain of a quick victory. In the woods +about the cabin you could hear them shouting: "It's here!" "No, it +isn't!" "Where is it?" + +"A will-o'-the-wisp," murmured the old man; "may they never have a +harder one to find!" + +By-and-by the children came trotting back. They couldn't find the +katydid in any place, and they had looked everywhere. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Eggs of the katydid. +_B._ A katydid. +_C._ Leg, showing katydid's ear. +_D._ Musical instrument at base of wings.] + +"Couldn't? How did you look?" He took one of the lanterns, went to a +near-by tree, and held the lantern close to the leaves. "Here it is! +Why, it's a great fellow!" + +The children trooped into the cabin after him, crowding to look at the +katydid. + +"I thought they were brown," said Hope. + +"So did I," echoed Betty. + +"See, you can't tell this fellow from the leaf, it is such a bright, +fresh green. Woe to the katydid if it were anything but this bright +green! Just think how easily the birds would find them. What nice salad +Katy would make for a young robin!" + +"Do the birds eat katydids?" asked the children, in surprise. + +"Oh yes, and they haven't any stated luncheon or supper time for doing +it. They are very informal. One time is as good as another, and the +oftener the merrier. If Katy doesn't keep very quiet and demure, like +her leafy background, whist! and Father Robin or Mother Bluebird has a +meal for the youngsters." + +"Is that why it doesn't sing by day?" asked Peter. + +"They wait till the birds go to bed, I suppose. See what a comical look +this fellow has, waving its long, fine, silky antennae about. Probably +it's trying to find out what it is on, looking out for another nice +green leaf to eat. They do a lot of damage eating leaves from the +trees." + +"What's that?" asked Betty, pointing to the edge of a leaf. + +"Well, you have sharp eyes," said the old man. "Mrs. Katydid has laid +her eggs there. See, the eggs are rounded and flattened, and each egg +laps a little over the one in front of it. Once another man saw a row of +katydid eggs laid as neatly as could be on the edge of a clean linen +collar. I'll keep these eggs; then, in the spring, the young ones will +hatch out. They will grow and shed their skins from time to time, just +the way the locusts do. Ah, they leave so many old clothes about that +they need an old clothes man! I wish I could tell you about the katydid +I knew once upon a time who spent her days collecting old clothes, and +how she made a fortune selling them to--" + +Ben Gile paused and sighed deeply. + +"Selling them to what?" shouted the children. + +"I can't tell that to you," replied the old man, shaking his head sadly. +"It's the story of 'How Katy Did.' I have to be very careful, for Mr. +John Burroughs, who is a wiser old man than I am, says I mustn't. Lately +the scientists almost killed one man I know, and a good, clever, useful +man, for telling that story--very savage, very savage." + +The children began to look troubled. "Will Mr. Burroughs hurt us?" +inquired Hope. "My papa would--" + +"No, no, child, you're too small. He likes something big, and he's +especially fond of the Big Stick." + +"Is that what he does his beating with?" Jack's eyes were frightened. + +"He hunts with the Big Stick," answered the guide. "Dear me, where are +we? It's half-past eight, and you children should have been in bed this +time long, long ago. Hurry! Skip! Get the lanterns or we'll all be +scolded." + +And they scampered for the village, the guide driving them before him, +and all the lights waving to and fro like so many crazy fireflies. + + + + +VI + +FISHING + + +Have you ever started off on a bright, cool morning to fish? At the last +it seems as if you would never get started, which, I suppose, is partly +the eagerness to be gone; then you do get off, only to find you've +forgot the can of worms or the salt for the luncheon-basket. + +Jimmie and Betty were prancing on the lawn in front of Turtle Lodge. +Jimmie had his camera over his back and a jointed steel rod done up in a +neat little case in his hands, on his feet long rubber boots. Betty wore +a big straw hat; she carried a little rod like Jim's and a pretty little +knapsack, which held part of the luncheon. They were waiting for Jack +and Ben Gile, who were to go with them to fish a stream that lay far +back from the pond. It was to be a great day's sport. They had a creel +and a rod for Jack; for the guide they needed to take nothing, for he +had the most wonderful collection of rods and flies they had ever seen. + +At last they saw him coming up the hill, Jack with him. Hastily they +kissed Mrs. Reece, and ran shouting and jumping toward the old man and +the boy, Lizzie after them, for they had left half the luncheon on the +grass. "Faith!" she panted, catching up with them, "and what can you be +doing without the victuals, I'd like to know?" + +The guide took part of the bundles and Jack the rest. Off they went +gayly talking and laughing. + +Soon they were following the stream, Jack catching his line and fly in +the alders almost every time he cast. + +Jack was too poor ever to have had any rod except an alder stick cut +beside the stream, a short line and hook, and any worm or grasshopper he +might find. He was wonderfully proud of the rod he held. The children +meant to give it to him at the end of the summer. But Jack did not know +this good news yet. + +Ben Gile led the way, and almost every time he cast his fly there was a +swirl, the end of the slender rod bent, there was a minute of +excitement, and then upon the bank lay a beautiful speckled trout. On, +on, on they went over the cool, green leaves and bright red berries of +the partridge vine, and past raspberries wherever the sun had struck in +through the heavy trees to ripen them. The stream was running more and +more swiftly as they travelled up grade; quick water was growing more +frequent and the pools deeper. + +At last they came to a deep, round pool, and the guide said, "Now, Jim, +you've the first try." + +Jimmie cast his fly, there was a strike, a plunge, and out, out, out ran +Jimmie's line. The boy's face turned quite pale. "What shall I do, sir?" + +"You have a big one," answered Ben, calmly. "If you can play him long +enough we may get him; otherwise he'll get your fly and line. Steady +there, steady; let out a little more line, and now reel in a bit." + +It seemed like hours to Jimmie as he let the line out and reeled it in +again. Really, it was only a few minutes before the guide said: "Seems +to be getting a little tired; bring him in closer. That's it. There!" + +They had no landing-net with them, so at the last moment Ben Gile seized +the line, and out came a two-pound trout. Jimmie's eyes were popping +nearly out of his head, and Betty was jumping about and clapping her +hands. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Front view of dragon-fly nymph. +_B._ Top view of damsel-fly nymph. +_C._ Adult dragon-fly.] + +"Tired?" asked the old man. + +"Some," said the boy. + +"Well, this is the best place we shall find to eat our luncheon. We'll +camp here. Now for the fire! Boys, get the wood and a small strip of +birch bark! Then these two stones will hold the frying-pan. Now for the +fish; we'll keep that big one of yours and I'll mount it for you, if +you'd like me to. We'll eat the little fellows. After luncheon we must +catch more for your mother, Betty, and for Jack to take home with him." + +Soon the frying-pan was hot, and the trout were sizzling and curling up +with the bacon in the pan. Never did a luncheon taste so good as that, +with fried trout and bacon, and hard-boiled eggs, soda biscuits, and a +mammoth apple pie. They listened to the fire crackling; they looked up +into the shining trees; they watched the water beyond the pool go +tumbling downhill. + +Finally the old man said, "It's going to be a clear day to-morrow." + +The children gazed up into the sky. + +At this Ben Gile laughed. "Don't look at the sky, look at your plates." + +Puzzled by this, the children did look at their plates. + +"But there's nothing left to look at," said Jack. + +"That's just it. There's an old saying that people who eat all their +food make a clear day for the morrow. Now," he continued, "I'll smoke my +pipe of peace before we go on. Just look at that fellow darting about +over the pool!" + +"Oh!" cried Betty, "it's a darning-needle, and it will sew up my mouth +and my eyes--oh, oh!" + +"Nonsense, child, that's silly. The dragon-fly is a very useful and a +very harmless fellow. It's a pity that there are so many superstitions +about it." + +"There's another name for it," said Jack--"devil's darning-needle." + +"And in the South the darkies call it the mule-killer, and believe it +has power to bring snakes to life. It's all nonsense. They are not only +harmless to human beings but also very useful, for they eat flies and +mosquitoes at a great rate. Once upon a time I fed a dragon-fly forty +house flies in two hours. And they eat beetles and spiders and +centipedes. And sometimes they eat one another." + +"Like the crickets?" said Betty. + +"Yes, like the crickets. Just see that fellow dart about. The sharpest +sort of angles. There, it has something! It caught that lace-wing in its +leg-basket." + +"Leg-basket!" exclaimed the children. + +"Yes; it draws its six legs together, and makes a sort of basket right +under its head. Then the dragon-fly devours what it catches by these +strong-toothed jaws. It is a hungry fellow, it is." + +The old man puffed away quietly for a few minutes, while the children +watched the darning-needle and hoped Ben Gile would say something soon. + +"Those scientists," he continued, "who are working on flying-machines +could learn a good deal from this fellow. The dragon-fly is made for +flight. A long, slender, tapering body that cuts the air, moved by four +narrow, gauzy wings, and steered by that pointed abdomen. They eat, +mate, and lay their eggs while they are flying. I don't know that they +are still for more than a few seconds." + +"Can you find their eggs?" asked Betty. + +"Yes; their eggs are laid in the water or fastened to the stems of water +plants. See that damsel fly, the slender, smaller, pretty-colored +darning-needle? Well, it goes entirely under water, cuts a slit in the +stem with the sharp end of the abdomen, and lays the eggs in the groove +it has made. And they lay thousands of eggs." + +"When they hatch out, what do they look like?" asked Jack, who grew +daily more interested in the creatures about him, and who, in the years +to come, was destined to be a great scientist. + +"It looks a little like the mother," said Ben Gile, taking out his pipe, +"but not much. It goes through a great many changes before it is really +grown up. All told, the growth takes from a few months to a whole year. +The young one, called a nymph, is an ugly little fellow, dingy black +with six sprawling legs, two staring eyes, and a big lower lip which +covers up its cruel face like a mask. It is a true ogre, lurking under +stones and in rubbish at the bottom of the pond seeking whom it may +devour. It eats the smaller and weaker nymphs." + +"Oh," said Betty, studying the picture the guide had drawn, "what an +ugly, ugly fellow!" + +"It changes its skin a good many times, and sometimes it looks a little +better while the skin is still clean and light gray. But it soon turns +dingy again. See these three little leaf-shaped gills I've drawn?" + +"They are like the screw on a steamer," commented Jimmie. + +"They are, a little. Well, this chap uses these gills for the same +purpose as the steamer uses its screw--to scull through the water." + +"What happens when it changes?" asked Jack. + +"After the nymph has its full growth, some sunny morning soon after +daylight, it makes its way up out of the water on to a stem and waits +quietly for the old dark skin to split. Then out crawls a soft-skinned +creature with gauzy wings. But the body is so moist and weak it has to +wait awhile for the warm sunshine to harden the skin and strengthen the +muscle. When this is done the new dragon-fly, with its glistening body, +flies out from the pond in the bright, warm light." + +"Then does it live forever?" asked Betty. + +"No; it dies after twenty-five to forty-five days of its flight. Here, +Jack, catch that fellow!" + +There was a wild scramble, but every time Jack just missed the +dragon-fly. Finally Betty lent him her broad hat, and at last Jack +caught the insect. + +"Gee! aren't its eyes big?" + +"And beautiful, too," said the guide. "They are made up of thousands of +facets (a facet is just a small, plain surface) as many as thirty +thousand facets in one eye. Some look up, some look down, some look out, +some look in; so that there is nothing that escapes the sight of this +hawk of the air. Look at the wings on this fellow, and look at the +picture I drew for you of the nymph. Well, this fellow's wings begin in +the nymph as tiny sacs, or pads, made by the pushing out of the wall of +the body. Running all through between the two layers of the wing are +thickened lines of chitin, which divide and subdivide, forming this fine +network. In the new wing, protected by these thickenings, are air-tubes, +which divide and branch into all parts of the wing. But as the wing +reaches its full growth most of the air-tubes die." The guide paused. +"We are talking too much and fishing too little. Time to go on. Put out +the fire, boys. Be sure that it's out. Run water all around it. Now +we're off!" And up, up, up the brook they went. + + + + +VII + +THE SWIMMING-POOL + + +Two or three days after the fishing expedition the boys had gathered +together at the swimming-pool, Ben Gile with them. They had been racing, +and climbing trees, and were very warm. "Come, boys," said the guide, +"let's sit down a minute before you go into the water. It won't do to +bathe when you're too warm. Look round on the stones under the water and +see what you can find." + +"Look at this," called Peter; "it's just like a sponge." + +"It is a fresh-water sponge." + +"I didn't suppose sponges grew in these parts at all," said Jimmie. + +"Oh yes, there are many of them in the ponds." + +"See this, sir," shouted Jack; "what funny little legs it has!" + +"That's a May-fly or shad-fly nymph. He was hiding carefully under that +stone and keeping out of the way of the dragon-fly nymph, who would so +gladly gobble him up." + +"It's prettier," said Jimmie, "than that dragon-fly nymph you drew a +picture of." + +"So it is. See, here on each side of its body are these fine little +gill-plates, moving, moving, moving, so that they may get as much fresh +air as possible out of the water. Each gill-plate is a tiny sac, and +within these are the fine branches of the air-tubes. It's wonderful the +way these creatures breathe." + +"Don't they breathe just the way we do?" asked Jack. + +"No; throughout the body of an insect is a system of tiny white tubes. +Some day we'll look at these tubes under the microscope, and you will +see that they are made up of rings. From end to end of the tube is a +fine thread of chitin twisted in a close spiral like a spring. It is +these little coils which look like rings. The coiled thread holds the +little tube open so that the air may pass readily. But your little +fellow, Jack, cannot have pores on the sides of the body like the last +nymph. It lives under water, and the water would get into its tubes; +instead, it has tracheal gills." + +[Illustration: +_A._ May-fly. +_B._ Nymph of May-fly.] + +"That's a pretty big word," said Peter, looking up at the guide. He was +growing impatient, and wished to begin the swim. If he had known what +that swim was to mean to him, probably he would not have been so +anxious. + +"They aren't so hard to understand; they are just little oval sacs, +inside of which is a limb of the air tube divided into tiny branches. +The fresh air in the water passes through the thin wall of the gill and +is taken by the air-tubes to all parts of the body, while the impure air +passes out in the water. This is all that breathing means in any +creature--a changing of impure for pure air." + +"Then that is what my nymph is doing," asked Jack, "when it wiggles its +gills so?" + +"Just that. Your May-fly nymph, Jack, hatched from a tiny egg first. But +it grows rapidly, and splits and sheds its skin sometimes as often as +twenty times. During the last few months wings appear, which grow a +little larger with each shedding of the skin. Finally, after three +years--sometimes three years spent in growing and hiding away from its +enemies--the little nymph floats up to the surface of the water. In a +few minutes the old skin splits along the back, and from it flies forth +a frail little May-fly. Its body is very soft and delicate. Its four +wings are of a gauzy texture. At the tip of the body are two long, fine +hairs. Its jaws are small and weak, but the life of this little creature +is so short that it never eats. Up it flies into the air with thousands +of its brothers and sisters, whirls in a mad dance for a few hours, then +falls exhausted to the ground to die. + +"Well, now I think we'd better go into the water," ended the guide. "You +boys can go in just as you are." For three little boys had been sitting +undressed in the bright sunshine. "Good for their pores," Ben Gile had +told them, which is all very true. + +Soon there was the greatest splashing and paddling and shouts of, "My +goodness, isn't the water cold!" "Can you swim this way?" "How far can +you go, anyway?" + +Jimmie and the guide were swimming around near the shore when suddenly, +two hundred feet ahead of them, they saw Peter disappear in what they +supposed was shallow water. Jack was half-way the distance between the +guide and Peter. It did not take him an instant to realize what had +happened. But before he could get to the place where Peter had gone +down, the lad had come up, struggled, and gone down again. As he came +up once more Jack caught him by his curly hair, turned over on his back, +holding Peter's head high out of the water, and swam calmly for the +shallow place. Once there, the old man took Peter in his arms and +hurried to shore, where they rolled him until they had the water out of +him. Not a word was said, and modest, quiet Jack did not seem to think +that he had been brave. + +When Peter opened his eyes he said, "Guess my pores weren't in the right +place." + + + + +VIII + +THE RAINY DAY + + +It was a rainy day. Poor Betty flattened her little nose against the +window-panes of Turtle Lodge a dozen times. But outside all she could +see were just the long, straight lines of the down-coming rain and an +empty road leading downhill to the edge of the pond; all she could hear +was the drum of the water upon the roof. Inside, Jimmie was developing +films in his laboratory, and was not in the least interested in what +Betty might be doing. + +"Oh, mother," called Betty, "I am so tired; there isn't anything to do!" + +"Why don't you sew on a dress for Belinda?" asked Mrs. Reece. + +"Belinda has too many clothes; she has more than I have, mother, and +she's a naughty dolly to-day." + +"Well, let me see--get Lizzie to let you make cake." + +"Lizzie's cross, and I'm afraid to. I wish the guide were here. He's +never cross, and never too busy to tell you something that's +interesting." Betty looked out of the window. "He's coming now! Goody! +Goody!" + +When old Ben Gile reached the steps there was a little girl dancing +inside the door and still shouting "Goody!" + +"What's this?" + +"You'll tell me a story, won't you?" + +"Tell you a story! Dear, dear, I never knew such a little greedy for +stories. I've brought you something." + +Betty's face was shining now. She had forgotten the rain, the dreary +day, cross Lizzie, and everything. Ben Gile took a box out of his +pocket. "What is it?" she asked. + +"I have a box full of little elves for you." + +"Elves!" exclaimed Betty. + +"Yes, little elves, little brownies." + +"Come into the study, where there is a fire." Mrs. Reece led the way. +"Then you can tell us all about these elves." They sat down around the +fire, and Mrs. Reece continued, "Don't you think it would be fun to pop +corn while we're hearing about the brownies?" + +Betty was delighted, and ran for a corn-popper, and soon there was the +merry sound of crackling wood, popping corn, and happy voices--all +sounds that proved so tempting that before long Jimmie joined the +others. + +"My little elf is a bug," began the hermit. + +"A _bug_ an elf?" + +"Yes, a bug; and when he doesn't look like an elf, he looks like a king +with a high crown on his head or a naughty boy with a dunce cap." + +"Let's see him, please," said Betty. + +The old man opened his box. Inside lay a lot of little creatures with +backs like beechnuts. "See, look through the lens!" + +Betty laughed. "Oh, aren't they funny! The eyes are so big and so far +apart." + +"And the lines on their heads make them look as if they were gazing +through heavy-bowed spectacles," said Mrs. Reece. + +"There is a very wise man, and his name is Mr. Comstock, who says that +Nature must have been in a joking mood when she made these little tree +and leaf hoppers, they are so impish and knowing-looking. Ah, they are +the naughty brownies of the insect world!" + +"Betty, Betty," called Mrs. Reece, "your popcorn is burning!" + +[Illustration: Tree and Leaf Hoppers] + +"Mother, I don't care to pop any more; let me just listen now. What +makes them bad?" + +"Well, they are born with a naughty desire to suck everything they can +get their tiny sucking beaks upon. They hop around in great numbers on +the fruit trees and pierce the leaves with their sharp beaks. Then, with +a tubelike lower lip, they suck up the sap. They also make slits in the +twigs in which to lay their eggs. In the following spring the eggs +hatch, and there is a fresh supply of tree-hoppers ready to begin the +mischief their parents left off only when they died." + +"And what is the difference between the leaf-hoppers and the +tree-hoppers?" asked Mr. Reece. + +"Not much. They are cousins--cousins in naughtiness. The leaf-hoppers +are a great nuisance. Every year they destroy from one-fourth to +one-fifth of the grass that springs up. They also suck the sap of the +rose, the grape-vine, and of many grains. These sturdy fellows live +during the winter by hiding under the rubbish in the fields and +vineyards, ready when the warm spring does come to begin their naughty +work." + +"What makes a little fellow like this able to do so much damage?" asked +Jimmie, who had come in, his hands all stained with chemicals. + +"Well, it is well covered by this horny substance called chitin, and +then it is very active. You see, the chitin acts both as armor-plate for +the soft parts and also as a firm support to the many muscles. As many +as two thousand separate, tiny muscles have been counted in a certain +caterpillar. That shows how very active insects are." + +"And they all have such big eyes they can see everything," said Betty. + +"So they have--bigger eyes than the old wolf of the story had." + +"You remember, I told you about the thousands of facets in the big eyes +of the darning-needle? Not contented with these large eyes, most insects +have three small eyes arranged in the form of a triangle on the front of +the head." + +"This bug has feelers, too," said Jimmie. + +"So it has. Insects use these feelers, or antennae, for all sorts of +purposes--some for touch, some for smell, some for hearing. Ants +exchange greetings by touching antennae, and recognize a friend or an +enemy by the odor. The antennae of a male mosquito are covered with fine +hairs. When Mrs. Mosquito sings, all the tiny hairs on Mr. Mosquito's +feelers are set in motion, and he becomes aware of Mrs. Mosquito." + +Mrs. Reece laughed. "That's a new kind of romance!" + +"Mother, what's a romance?" asked Betty. + +"You'll know, dear, in time." + +"Notice this imp's mouth," said the guide. "It's made for sucking. But +there's a great difference in the mouths of insects: some are made for +biting, some for lapping, some for piercing, and some for sucking. The +butterfly, which lives on nectar in the depths of the flowers, has a +long, coiled tube which scientists call a proboscis. This it unrolls and +buries in the throat of the flower. Mrs. Mosquito has a file and pump, +for it is she, and not her husband, who does all the singing and biting. +The male mosquito has nothing more than a mouth for sucking nectar. And +I told you about the biting jaws of the locust with which it nibbles +grass and leaves." + +"And does the tree-hopper breathe the way the locust does--through those +pores on the side?" + +"Yes, child," said the old man, "and the air-pores are protected by fine +hairs which surround the openings, just the way the hairs in your +nostrils keep the dust from getting up your nose and into your throat." + +"Things in the bugs," said Betty, "are so like us." + +"The world becomes more and more like one great whole as you grow +older," added Ben Gile. "Those are interesting elves I've been telling +you about, aren't they?" + +"I didn't know bug elves could be so interesting." + +"Now run and get us some of the fresh cake Lizzie has been baking," said +Mrs. Reece. "I hope it will taste as good as it smells." + + + + +IX + +THE PRIZE + + +There were two canoes going up the little river which led out from the +pond. In the first were Ben Gile with Betty, Hope, and Jack. In the +second Jimmie and Peter paddled Mrs. Reece. They had trout rods, +although they did not plan to fish very much, and well-filled +luncheon-baskets, magnifying-glasses, cameras, boxes, and various other +things. + +In two weeks they were to go on a camping expedition, and to-day's trip +was taken chiefly to find a good place for the first night's stop. + +The children were all excitement about the camping, which was to be the +last jollity of their happy summer, and they asked so many questions +about what they were to take with them, and they asked the same +questions over so many times, that at last Mrs. Reece put her hands on +her ears and called to the guide, who was paddling vigorously ahead. + +"Well," he called back, "a frying-pan and an axe, and perhaps a tent." +He allowed his canoe to drop nearer Mrs. Reece's. "What naughty children +you are," he continued, "to bother the life out of your poor mother! I +know of some other children, too, who are very naughty. I see one flying +now." + +"That pretty little thing," exclaimed Betty, "with the gauzy wings?" + +"Yes, that pretty little thing; its wings have many, many veins. When +Lace-Wing is a baby and is called a larva, it does not look like this, +for its jaws are strong and very sharp. After it has eaten and grown for +some time it makes a house for itself, where it rolls up for a nap. +While it is lying very still in this little house many things are +happening." + +"What happens?" asked Jack. + +"Well, it is changing from a baby to a grown-up, and while it is growing +up into an insect it is called a pupa. Don't mistake this for papa--it +does not look like your papa at all." + +Betty thought this was very funny, because her father was a great big +man over six feet tall. + +"After its wings are made and it looks just like its mamma, Lace-Wing +crawls out of its house and flies away." + +[Illustration: Pit of the Ant-Lion] + +"Has it any cousins, like the locust?" asked Betty. + +"Yes, it has cousins; the ant-lion and caddis-fly both belong to this +family. But little Lace-Wing, with its beautiful green body, gauzy +wings, and golden eyes, is the most graceful member of the family." + +"How do they live when they are babies?" asked Hope. + +"When they are babies," said Ben Gile, opening his eyes wide and +speaking in a loud, deep voice, "they go about like lions seeking whom +they may devour." + +Betty was frightened. + +"No, no, child," said Mrs. Reece, "not a real lion." + +"Just an aphis-lion," explained the guide, his eyes twinkling. "They are +called aphis-lions because they are very cruel to the little green +plant-lice I told you about. You remember, the plant-lice live on +plants, and with their sucking beaks pump the sap from the plants. The +aphis-lions crawling over the plants come across the little aphid. Quick +as a wink they stick their sharp claws in the soft body of the +plant-louse and drink the blood with their sharp-pointed jaws. They are +very fond of eggs, too, and Mamma Lace-Wing is careful of her eggs, +because she knows the mischievous ways of her children." + +"What does Mamma Lace-Wing do with her eggs?" inquired Mrs. Reece. + +"Each egg which she lays has a tiny stem, and the stems are fastened to +a leaf or twig. When the babies hatch out they crawl down onto the leaf +and hunt around for something to eat. Perhaps if they knew more they +would crawl up the little egg stems and eat their own brothers and +sisters." + +"Oh, what cannibals!" cried Betty. + +"Yes, it is not pleasant, this Fiji Island of the insects, but it is +their nature." + +"They do seek their meat from God," murmured Mrs. Reece. + +"Yes, it is a mystery," answered the old man. "But, dear me, I have +forgotten my story. Well, in about ten days they find a nicely sheltered +spot and spin a little silken cocoon about themselves. In this they stay +for a couple of weeks, while they are changing into grown-up lace-wings. +When they are finished they cut a round door in their silken house, +spread their gauzy wings, stretch their delicate green bodies, rub their +eyes in wonder at the sunny world, and fly away to lay some little eggs +on slender stems just like those which their mothers laid and from +which they came." + +"See," said Jimmie, "what a place for camping!" + +"But it is too near home," objected Peter. "We could get here in two +hours." + +"So we could," admitted Jimmie. + +"Tell us something about the cousins, sir," said Jack. + +"We can't have much more now," replied the guide, "for we shall have to +stop for luncheon soon. But I'll tell you about a little fellow called +the ant-lion. Along the side of almost any country path or road, if you +keep your eyes open, you may notice some day little pits of sand with +sloping sides, and down at the bottom of this is a hole. The hole is +very dark, and unless you look sharply you will think it just a hole. +But if you examine it you will see a little head and two little sharp, +curved jaws. These are the jaws of the ant-lion, lying in wait to gobble +up the first passer-by. The rest of the body is in a little tunnel +burrowed out in the sand. They get their name, I suppose, because they +think an ant an excellent dinner. They lie there knowing very well that +Mr. and Mrs. Ant will surely slip on the steep-sloping sides. And if by +any chance they don't, these ant-lions have been seen to throw up sand +with their heads in order to hit a helpless little ant and knock it down +into the pit." + +The children exclaimed at this cleverness. + +"After it has eaten its fill, this cruel, greedy fellow makes a little +room for itself of fine grains of sand firmly held together with silky +fibres. In this room it lies quietly, sometimes all winter, until it +changes into a grown-up ant-lion with four long, narrow wings. Then Mrs. +Ant-Lion lays her eggs in the sand, and when the young ones hatch out +they build the 'pits of destruction' which I told you about. What book +is it, children, that uses the 'pit of destruction' so often as a +figure?" + +"The Bible!" shouted Peter, who was the minister's son in Rangeley +Village. + +"Good! Now, no more for the present, and here we are at a splendid place +for luncheon--clear spring, dry ground, handy wood, and all." + +The canoe beached noiselessly on the river's edge, the boys jumped out +with a whoop, and soon luncheon and frying-pans were out of the canoes, +and there was the sound of the axe chopping the dry wood, the good smell +of smoke, and the sizzling of bacon. Betty and Hope went for water. The +boys fetched wood. Mrs. Reece and the guide took care of the luncheon, +Mrs. Reece spreading the table on the ground, and the guide frying the +potatoes and bacon. + +"Oh, mother," said Jimmie, "what does make things taste so good +out-of-doors?" + +"I'm sure I don't know." + +"And, mother," asked Betty, "what does make everything so pretty?" + +"You ask mother a hard question." + +"And oh, Mrs. Reece," exclaimed Jack, his thin, eager face shining with +excitement, "everything in the world is so wonderful!" + +"It's all so different in the winter," said Peter, in between bites of +bread-and-butter. "It isn't half so nice, but I suppose it would be +lovely if we could have you and Mr. Gile--" + +"You dear child!" + +"It is about three miles above here," the guide spoke, "on the last of +the Dead River Ponds, where we shall find our first camping ground. I +want you to look at it." + +"And we'll be gone days and days." + +"Goody! goody!" called Betty, clapping her hands. "And we'll sleep +out-of-doors, cook out-of-doors, and do everything out-of-doors." + +Every one smiled with her, for there was not a person there who was not +looking forward with happiness to this trip. + +"Before we start on I'll smoke my pipe," said the old man. + +"Then, please, sir, won't you tell us something else?" asked Betty. + +"Why, I have nothing left in my head, you child." + +"Oh, please, sir, you said there was another cousin called the +caddis-worm." + +"So I did," said the old man. "Fetch me that stone, Jack." He pointed to +a stone lying in the water. Jack brought it to him, and he broke +something off from it. "What's that?" + +"That's a stick," answered Betty. + +"No, that's not a stick, that's a caddis-worm. This little fellow, +unlike some spoiled children I know, has to find its own dinner, change +its own clothes, tuck itself into bed, and build its own house. And it +is brighter than some children I know," said the old man, looking kindly +at Peter. "The caddis-worm builds itself different kinds of houses. Some +of the houses are shaped like the horns you blow on the Fourth of July, +and one kind of house is made of the finest sand, fastened together with +bands of finest silk, which the caddis spins. Our caddis-worm has +patience," said the old man, shaking his head and looking at +Jimmie--"patience, plenty of patience." He puffed away at his pipe for a +few seconds. "Some build rougher houses, choosing small pebbles instead +of sand. Of these it builds a long tube. Others make a little green +summer cottage with twigs, grasses, and pine-needles, from which they +build an attractive bungalow by laying down four pieces and crossing the +ends like this: # These cottages are built about an inch long, and in +them the young caddis-worms have a cool and cosey summer home. Often +these little houses have silken hangings inside. The little owners +fasten the hooks at the ends of their bodies to these and moor +themselves securely." + +"What do you call it a worm for?" asked Mrs. Reece. + +"Well, it looks a little like a worm. It has a long, slender body, but +it has six jointed legs, which real worms don't have. See this fellow!" +Ben Gile pulled the worm out of its case. + +"Oh, see! part of the body is so pale and soft!" + +"That, child, is because it is always covered by the little house. The +front end and the legs, however, are darker. That's sunburn, I suppose." + +"When young Master Caddis-Worm goes out for a swim or a walk it pushes +its six legs out-of-doors, and walks along, carrying its house with it. +Very convenient, you see! No doors to lock! And if it gets tired it does +not have to walk home; it just walks in and goes to sleep under a nice, +smooth stone. Some roam about and some stay at home. These creatures are +pretty much like human beings in their ways. + +"One of the young caddis-worms prefers fishing to walking, like some +other young fellows I know. On a stone near its house it spins a fine +web, turned up-stream, so that any tender little insects floating +down-stream get lodged in it. An easy way to get your dinner--just to go +to a net and eat." + +The guide paused for a long time, clouds of smoke circling about his +white beard and white hair. The children thought he would never go on. +"I've had something on my mind for days," he said, "and I'll speak of it +now. The boy or girl who learns most about the ants before September +15th shall win a prize. This prize is to be a magnifying-glass, a book +of colored plates of the insects, very beautiful and very big, and a +five-dollar gold piece." + +"A prize, a prize!" shouted the children, jumping madly about, while +Mrs. Reece and the guide smiled at each other. + +"Now we've had our dinner, our rest, our pipe of peace, a plan for a +prize, and we must push on for the camping-ground. Get the canoes +ready." + +And, with laughter and talking, the canoes were off up the river again. + + + + +X + +A NAGGING FAMILY + + +"Do you know of a family around here whom no one likes?" asked Ben Gile. + +The lanterns were burning brightly out on the lawn of Turtle Lodge, and +Mrs. Reece had just stopped playing so that the children might rest from +dancing. All the lanterns moved gently to and fro on the piazza; the +children were running about, and everybody seemed to be having a +beautiful and breathless time. "Do you know of a family around here," +called the guide, "whom nobody likes?" + +"I do," replied Mrs. Reece, laughing and slapping the side of her face. +"They are just like some people, nagging, annoying, and numerous." + +"Do any children here," called Ben Gile, for the third time, "know of a +family nobody likes? For the child who guesses I have a pocket-knife." + +"The Smiths!" shouted Peter. "My father says Mrs. Smith is always +quarrelling with the choir." + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Reece, seeing danger ahead. "Ben means a family right +here on the piazza." + +The children looked at one another, and then Jack turned shrewdly to the +guide. "I guess, sir, it is mosquitoes and flies." + +"Good boy, and here's the knife." + +Jack thought he had never seen such a wonderful knife. It had three +blades, a corkscrew, a file, and a pair of scissors, and to this day +Jack has that knife. + +"Come," said Mrs. Reece, "let us all sit down for a few minutes while +Lizzie is getting supper ready inside." + +"How many wings," asked Mrs. Reece, "has a fly?" + +"Four," answered Jimmie. + +"No," corrected the guide; "a real fly has only two wings. In the place +of the second pair they have queer little knobbed rods which are called +balancers--something like the out-riggers on your scull, Jim. These +steer and steady the fly's body." + +"What makes a fly bite?" asked Hope. + +"They do not bite, child. A beetle or a grasshopper can really bite, +because beetles and grasshoppers have heavy, horny jaws, toothed on the +edge, with which to do it. But a fly has fine, sharp-pointed jaws. With +these needlelike jaws they pierce a hole in the skin, then with a tiny +sucking-beak, made by the rolled lower lip, they draw up the blood +through this opening." + +"I wonder whether any little girl here knows why flies should not be +allowed in the house?" asked Mrs. Reece. No little girl did know +anything except that their mothers were always driving flies out, and +that these creatures buzzed and were a nuisance. "Do tell them," said +Mrs. Reece. + +[Illustration: +_A._ House-fly. +_B._ A grown-up mosquito, two larvae, and a pupa.] + +"Well," said the guide, "the fly is such a little acrobat it can crawl +up the steepest and most slippery wall and walk upside down or right +side up with the greatest ease. Perhaps some day you can make a fly keep +still long enough so that you can look at its foot. At the end of the +foot are two little round pads thickly covered with downy hair. On each +side are two sharp claws and many stiff, clinging hairs. With this +flattened foot it can go wherever it wishes. + +"But this same little foot is the chief reason why a fly should never be +allowed in the house, for flies crawl into all sorts of dirty places, +and the fine hairs catch and hold the dirt. When the fly lights on us +or on the table, some of the pieces of dirt are shaken off." + +"But they are so hard to catch," said Betty; "it takes Lizzie forever +and forever to get them out of the dining-room in the morning." + +"I know why they are hard to catch," added Jack, "for I've looked at a +dead fly. They have such big eyes, like lighthouses, they can see all +around." + +"Yes," said Ben Gile; "there is no such thing as creeping up on a fly +unawares. Flies are dirty creatures," continued the old man, "and the +time is not very far distant when people will make war on them just as +they do on mosquitoes. Mrs. Fly lays her eggs in unclean places, and as +many as a hundred eggs at a time. These eggs hatch out quickly. It takes +only twenty-one days to make a chicken out of an egg, but to make a baby +fly it takes only a few hours, and ugly babies they are--little white +maggots, or worms, that live and feed and grow rapidly in dirty places. +Within six days the maggot becomes a tiny, dark-brown pupa, and after +five days the pupa hatches out into a grown-up fly." + +A dozen little girls at the party made up their minds promptly that +after this evening they, at least, would make war on flies. + +"And aren't flies of any use?" asked Betty. + +"There is one little fly, Mrs. Tachina-Fly, who is of some use. She is a +cousin of the house-fly. She is of use because she chooses a queer place +to lay her eggs--on the back of a young caterpillar. After these +caterpillars grow and shut themselves up into a cocoon to change into a +butterfly the little fly eggs hatch out into maggots. Of course they are +hungry--all babies are; and finding the nice, fat caterpillar in the +round house, like dutiful babies they eat what is set before them until +the fat, tender caterpillar is eaten up. After they are satisfied they +lie still in their brown skins and change into grown-up tachina-flies, +and at last out come a lot of busy, _buzzing_, bothersome flies. It is +rather hard on the caterpillar. But when we think what harmful, greedy +things most caterpillars are, perhaps it is good that there are +tachina-flies to eat them. Is it time for supper yet?" + +"No, not yet," replied Mrs. Reece. "Do tell the children something about +mosquitoes." + +"If I had to choose between Mr. and Mrs. Mosquito, I should take Mr. +Mosquito, for he neither bites nor buzzes, but attends strictly to his +own business. Perhaps he thinks Mrs. Mosquito's voice pretty. Perhaps he +likes to hear about her adventures. But most people do not, for they +think Mrs. Mosquito a busybody, always going where she is not wished, +always breaking up conversations, and always coming back after she has +been plainly told that she is not wanted. Yet her singing is music in +the ears of her husband. Perhaps if we had long, slender antennae, all +covered with hairs, like his, we, too, might like her song. When she +sings these hairs begin to tremble, to vibrate, and a little nerve in +the antennae changes this trembling to sound. + +"In every way Mr. Mosquito seems a more pleasant body. He eats very +little, and contents himself with nectar. But she, knowing that +excitement makes the blood flow faster, and being a hearty eater, begins +her song gently at first, then louder and louder, nearer and nearer. +Finally, with her long, slender, sharp stylets, she makes a hole in your +cheek or your arm, pushes in her sucking-beak, and pumps up the blood. +And there she sucks and sucks until her stomach is full or she is +brushed off or killed." + +"Where do mosquitoes lay eggs?" asked Jack, who was certain that +everything in the insect world did lay eggs, as indeed everything does. + +"In the water; any puddle will do. When the eggs hatch out they are +funny-looking fellows, long, tapering bodies with a big head end. At the +other end are two little prongs. This baby, like some other babies, is +never quiet, but squirms and wriggles so that it is called a wriggler. +Upon its thick head are two little tufts of hair. These it waves every +moment, so that all the food which comes its way will go into its hungry +little mouth. One of the prongs at the other end of the body is an +air-tube, so that the baby mosquito has to stand on its head to breathe. +It hangs head downward, and holds its air-tube above the surface of the +water. + +"When people pour kerosene upon the water the wriggler cannot get any +air to breathe, and therefore dies. Within a few days the wriggler +changes its skin three times; after the third change it looks very +different, and is called a pupa. Now, instead of having an air-tube at +the end, it has two on the back of the thorax. At the tail end are two +flaps to help it swim. Even the pupa is never still a minute, but holds +its air-tubes above the water's surface. + +"When anything comes to disturb it, it uses its flaps and swims safely +to the bottom of the pool. At the end of two days out of the pupa skin +comes a grown-up mosquito. If it is a Mrs. Mosquito, she promptly begins +to bite people and to carry about fevers or malaria from person to +person. The bite of a mosquito may sometimes be as dangerous as the bite +of a rattlesnake." + +The children had been slapping the mosquitoes buzzing about on the +_piazza_. "And now," said the guide, "before we go into supper, I will +tell you a real and a true story. Mosquitoes sometimes carry sickness +from one person to another until it spreads throughout a large city. We +didn't realize how dangerous mosquitoes were till a short time ago. +People had malaria, and were very ill with it. In some countries many +died. Every one thought, however, that the malaria came in some +mysterious way from the mists of the low-lying swamps and marshes. But +one day some one happened to think it might not be in the marshes, after +all; rather that it might be a certain little two-winged insect with a +short, piercing instrument, which spent its babyhood days in these same +marshes. + +"And so two English doctors determined to find out the truth of the +matter. In the faraway land of Italy was a place where thousands of +people were suffering from this disease. There these doctors went and +built a comfortable little house in the very worst place they could +find. They were careful to screen every door and window, and to leave +not a crack for a mosquito to crawl in. + +"There they lived, always going into the house at sundown, shutting all +the screen doors, but allowing the damp night air to pour in. It was +this night air which every one supposed gave people malaria. But the two +physicians in the snug little house, free from mosquitoes, kept well, +strong, and happy, although the people outside in the other houses were +very ill and suffering with chills and fever. + +"You see, these little Anopheles, for that is their name, bite some one +ill with malaria. Perhaps the next person they stab with their sharp +needle is well. In this way they leave some of the poisoned blood in the +wound. There is another illness which is a hundred times worse than +malaria. This is called yellow fever. In some countries thousands of +people died from this every year, and doctors did not know just how it +was carried from place to place. + +"Our Government appointed a commission to study the matter. Dr. Walter +Reed, a surgeon of the United States Army, with three assistants, went +to Havana and built a house, carefully screened, just like that of the +English physicians in Italy. People thought that the fever was carried +in the clothes and on the sheets of those who were ill. To prove that +this was not so, these men wore the clothes of sick people, and even +slept on the sheets taken from the sickbed. They did this disagreeable +thing for twenty days, keeping the little house very warm, and shutting +out the fresh air and sunshine. But in spite of all these things the men +continued well and strong. + +"They wanted to prove even more surely that it was a certain kind of +mosquito which really did the harm. So they built another house. +Everything in this house was pure and clean. The rooms were flooded with +fresh air and sunshine. Half of the house was carefully screened and +shut off from the other half. The men in the half that was screened kept +perfectly well. Those in the other half let themselves be bitten by +mosquitoes which had been in the houses where there was yellow fever. +All became dangerously ill with the fever. Two of these brave physicians +died of the fever while trying to find the cause, in order that they +might save the lives of thousands of people." + +"That is modern heroism," said Mrs. Reece, "and service of the highest +sort. All humanity is indebted to those brave men. There is no doubt but +that our Panama Canal could not be in progress to-day were it not for +the extermination of the mosquito in the canal zone. Since we can never +tell where a mosquito has been, or what kind of a mosquito it is, I +suppose it is best to keep mosquitoes from biting, and always to keep +them out of the house. And now, children, supper is ready, and after +that games. Let us go to the dining-room!" + + + + +XI + +CAMPING OUT + + +At last the day, expected all summer long, had come. The children, Hope +and Betty, Jack, Peter, and Jimmy, Mrs. Reece and Ben Gile, were +gathered on the edge of the pond, their packs in the canoes, their +paddles at bow and stern. Other guides had taken the food and tents +ahead the day before. Their friends had gathered to bid them good-bye, +and finally, amid the farewells, they were off, Jimmie in a canoe by +himself, Jack and Peter paddling Mrs. Reece, and Ben Gile with the two +little girls. Everybody was so excited that all talked at once, and +nobody could hear any one else. Hope and Betty had never been camping +before, and the boys meant to show the girls all the wonders of sleeping +and eating out in the woods. + +Finally they came to a "carry"--that is, a path leading from one lake to +another, across which the food and canoes have to be lugged. The girls +and Mrs. Reece carried the packs and food over, making several trips in +order to do so; and the boys and the guide, crossing their paddles under +the thwarts of the canoes and raising the blades on their shoulders, +balanced the canoes and trotted swiftly over the carry. Nothing seemed +any trouble that glorious, beautiful day--nothing too heavy, nothing too +hard. Betty and Hope could have skipped over every inch of the trail, +and they were quite sure that they could have done all the paddling, +too. And Betty did learn, in after years, not only to paddle, but also +to carry her own canoe, for she grew to be a big, strong, athletic girl, +with rosy cheeks and a quick, sure step. + +Hour after hour they went from one pond to another. The ponds were +larger and wilder at each crossing, and already they were in a +wilderness of woods and lakes, and heard the whistle of the hawk, the +scream of the lonely eagle, and the crazy cries of the loon. Every once +in a while a big heron mounted lazily upward and flew off solemnly to a +place where his peace need not be disturbed. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Moth. +_B._ Caterpillar. +_C._ Side view of head of moth. +_D._ and _E._ Scales from the wing of a butterfly.] + +Although Hope and Peter and Jack lived all the year around in Rangeley +Village, yet they had never been so far away from home before, and to +them it seemed very wonderful. Even in the midst of it all, however, +Jack did not forget the prize Ben Gile had offered. He hurried over +carry after carry, and at the end of each one might be found flat on his +face studying some little hill of ants. + +At last, after travelling five hours, they came to a halt, ravenously +hungry. Dinner was cooked and eaten, and then, after dinner, they began +their long ascent of Saddleback, for they were going to a lonely little +pond on the second highest mountain in the State of Maine. There, at +Camp-in-the-Clouds, was a cabin in which Mrs. Reece could sleep, and the +girls, too, if they wished, although they declared that they would not. + +Up, up the hill they trudged, stepping over blow-downs, following their +footing carefully, and watching with interest the little animals that +scampered out of their way. But never did packs grow so heavy, and at +last Mrs. Reece, who was carrying nothing but Jack's camera, sat down +panting and laughing. + +"I can't go a step farther," she declared, "until I catch my breath." + +"This is a good place to rest," assented the guide. "Some deer found it +so this morning, I think. Here, catch that butterfly, Jack!" + +In a flash Jack had caught the butterfly, and brought it, gently, to Ben +Gile. + +"You don't see this fellow up here often. Who knows the difference +between a butterfly and a moth? No one? Well, that is because most +children are going to bed about the time the moth begins to fly. Doesn't +any one know? You have all seen moths and butterflies? Well, well, well! + +"The first thing you see is that when the moth lights on the edge of a +flower-cup, instead of holding the wings up above the body, as the +butterfly does, it spreads its wings flat over the body. Then a +butterfly has little knobs at the tips of its slender antennae, while +the moth has slender ones without knobs, or pretty, feathery ones that +look like plumes." + +"I supposed," said Peter, "that moths and butterflies were just the +same, except that moths will fly into the house and burn their wings on +the lamps." Peter didn't in the least care about moths and butterflies. +He was longing to get to the top of the mountain, but he was too polite +to seem impatient. + +"They are alike in many ways. You remember, do you not, that the locust +has a pair of soft jaws covering over the dark, hard ones? In the moths +and butterflies these jaws are different. Each one is long, and has a +deep groove on the inner side. These two grooves fit together, and make +a slender tube called a proboscis. When flying this long tube is rolled +up in a tight coil under the head; alighting, the proboscis is quickly +uncoiled and dipped into the throat of the flower, and the sweet nectar +sipped from it. See here, Jack, what have you on your fingers?" + +"The dust from the butterfly's wings, sir." + +"No, not quite dust, or powder, either. That dust is tiny hair and +scales. If I had a powerful lens in my pocket I could show you how +deeply some of these tiny scales are scalloped, so that they look like a +hand with fingers. If you rubbed all the scales off that wing there +would be no color left, for the scales are like little sacs, and many of +them contain grains of color called pigment--red, yellow, or brown. You +have all seen the rainbow of colors on a soap-bubble? Well, the +brilliant colors of the wing are made in just the same way as the colors +on a bubble: by the light striking the little ridges on the overlapping +scales." + +"It is not only we who are fearfully and wonderfully made," said Mrs. +Reece, "but even the tiniest creatures God has created, and all with a +purpose, all with a place." + +The guide nodded his head. "The more you study, the more you see how +every least thing is part of a great mysterious whole. If you look at a +butterfly's wing from which the scales have been rubbed you will see +plan and purpose in the placing of even those scales; for the little +pits into which the stems of the scale fit are turned all one way, +toward the base of the wing." + +"They are so beautiful!" exclaimed Betty. "Are they always pretty?" + +"That depends," replied the old man, "whether in their caterpillar youth +you think them pretty. They have a bad name, then, for being homely, and +do a good deal of damage." + +"Oh, I hate caterpillars!" cried Hope. + +"Fuzzy caterpillars hump so and crawl," said Betty. + +"You mean woolly bears?" + +"Woolly bears!" exclaimed the children. + +"Yes; not Teddy bears. They have to play somehow, so they wiggle for +joy, and this takes them along very fast--that is, fast for a +caterpillar. Sometimes they spin a long thread by which they take a +flying short cut and land--on your back." + +Jimmie dropped a tiny twig down Betty's back, which made her scream. + +"But they don't harm us," said Ben Gile. "They are so fussy about what +they eat for dinner that they wouldn't think of biting even the sweetest +little boy or girl. They prefer something far more tender. Ah, you +wouldn't like Isabella!" The old man shook his head sadly. + +"Isabella! Who is Isabella?" questioned the children. + +"Isabella is always in a hurry," said the guide--"always. She is brown +in the middle, and black on the head and tail end, Isabella is, and she +walks rapidly, as if she had a great deal to do before she could take +time to be made over into a tiger-moth. She stops every once in a while +to make sure she is on the right road; then she hurries along in a +nervous, fidgety way, looking for a nice, comfortable stone under which +to have a winter home, for Isabella is in such haste that she could +never think of taking time to spin a cocoon." + +"But do all caterpillars turn into moths or butterflies?" asked Jack. + +"Yes, every one, my son, that lives long enough, just as surely as a boy +will turn into a man. The butterfly lays the egg, and after the egg has +been quiet for a while out comes a little worm; the worm spins the +cocoon, and out of the cocoon comes a perfect moth, or butterfly. It is +a wonderful cycle, a wonderful series of changes. Little boys and girls +seem to be surrounded with more love and don't change their skins as +moths do, but the mystery of life belongs quite as much to the helpless +moth as it does to any one of us." + +"But is a caterpillar an insect, and is a butterfly an insect?" asked +Betty. + +"Of course, you goose," said Jimmie; "you don't expect to hatch a duck +from a hen's egg, do you?" + +But Ben Gile, who was older than Jimmie and decidedly more patient, +explained, carefully: "If you look at a caterpillar and a moth you will +see that their bodies aren't so unlike, after all. They are made up of +rings, and both the moth and the caterpillar have six legs apiece. Most +caterpillars have little prop legs, but these aren't real legs and +shouldn't be counted. Caterpillars eat and eat and eat; they are such +solid little chaps they must need a good many legs, real and false, to +keep moving at all. Well, heigho! stretch your own legs, boys! We'll +leave the caterpillar where it is, and move on to the top of the +mountain, or we'll never be there in time to eat our own supper. One, +two, three, march!" + +And off they went, talking and laughing and scrambling up the side of +the mountain, which swung dark and steep above them. + + + + +XII + +CAMP-IN-THE-CLOUDS + + +The camp was reached. Once there, the children found the other two +guides in the cabin. The cook-tent was already pitched; the +sleeping-tents had been left so that the boys might choose their own +locations and help in pitching them. It was a beautiful place--remote, +wild, two-thirds up the side of the great mountain. + +In front was the famous trout pond, and beyond the little valley made by +the pond the crest of the mountain rose higher and higher. Dusk was +coming on, and the crisp mountain air was filled with the shadows of the +woods; along the mountain summit lay streamers of white cloud. Down, +down, down reached the long fingers of cloud, and up, up, up reached the +deep shadows, just as if a great hand were closing the world in dusk. +Every little sound was as clear in the evening air as the water of the +pond was transparent. Small shadows moved about the edge of the +pond--deer, they were, said Ben Gile, that had come down to the edge to +drink. + +"Phew, isn't it cold!" shouted the children, as they ran from one thing +to another; "and won't supper taste good!" + +Jack, who hadn't on any stout boots like Jimmie's, and whose jacket was +threadbare and thin, began to think the sleeping-blankets would feel +good when it was time to crawl in. In front of the cabin blazed a big +camp-fire, and around this fire supper was served. "Did stewed apricots, +soda-biscuits, bacon, eggs, hot cakes, ever taste so good? Will they +ever taste so good again? Did hot cakes and syrup ever make the butter +fly so fast?" asked Ben Gile. + +"And, speaking of the butterfly," he went on, "it's not time to turn in +yet, it's too dark to fish or explore, so let me tell you a little more +about the butterfly, and if you don't like it you can just imagine it is +a hot-cake butterfly." + +The children thought this was a great joke. But Peter, who had eaten so +much he was almost asleep, didn't hear what Ben Gile said. + +"Well," the old man continued, just as if he were beginning where he had +left off in the afternoon--"well, the caterpillar eats so much--it eats +almost as much as Peter does"--at this Peter opened his eyes +good-naturedly--"it eats so much that very soon it grows too big for its +skin, so the old skin splits for the growing body, and out comes young +caterpillar in a clean, new dress--a very easy way for Mrs. Butterfly to +have her babies get new clothes. Don't you think it is, Mrs. Reece?--no +hems to stitch, no buttons to sew on, no darning. The only things their +mothers ever do for them is to start them with the food they like. + +"And such a butterfly this mother is that little she cares whether her +children are considered pests or not, because they eat everything green +that they like, and eat before they are invited. A long sigh of relief +the gardener or farmer draws when the caterpillars lie quiet to pupate. +They lie very, very quiet, with wings, antennae, and legs folded under +the body." + +"What does pupate mean?" asked Betty, who was poking the fire and +listening hard to every word the old man spoke. + +[Illustration: +_A._ Cocoon of a polyphemus moth. +_B._ Cocoon of a cecropian moth.] + +"It means just that--to lie quiet and change. They do it in different +ways. Some crawl down into the ground and some pull out their silky +hairs, and with these and the silk they can spin they make a soft, +silken cocoon. Some make over their last skin into a hard covering. The +monarch butterfly does this. + +"And there is a troublesome creature called the clothes moth--Mrs. Reece +can tell you about that--who lays its eggs on anything woollen it can +find. After a while a baby clothes moth, a whitish worm, hatches out. +Then this little fellow eats the fibres of the wool, and finally spins a +cocoon out of these fibres and its own silk. + +"Some caterpillars are leaf-rollers--that is, when they pupate they roll +over the corners of a leaf, make themselves a neat hammock, and there +lie quite still in a cool and comfortable place to sleep." + +Poor Peter had tumbled over, his head on Mrs. Reece's lap. Betty and +Hope, wide awake, were thinking just as much of the wonderful tent in +which they were to sleep as of the butterflies and moths. They were wide +awake enough to point their fingers at sleepy Peter. + +"I think there is one kind of moth," said Mrs. Reece, stroking Peter's +silky hair, "that spins something almost as soft as this." + +"Softer," affirmed Ben Gile; "and that is the silk-worm." + +"Does the caterpillar make the silk our dresses are made from?" asked +Betty. + +"Yes, indeed. The mother moth is a creamy-white. She lays several +hundred eggs; from each of these eggs comes a little worm. These little +worms have been cared for so long by men that they don't know how to +take care of themselves any more. + +"They like to eat the leaves of the mulberry-tree. If these leaves are +not to be found they will sometimes eat lettuce. For forty-five days +they eat as fast as they can, which is a good deal faster than greedy +children can eat. + +"Every ten days or so they cast aside their old skin and come out in a +new one. After the last moulting of the skin the worm begins to spin a +cocoon about itself. At first the cocoon is not very smooth, but in a +while the worm gets well started and spins the rest of it with one long, +silky thread." + +"Isn't that wonderful!" exclaimed one of the guides. "I suppose that +silk is finer than the finest trout-line." + +"A hundred times finer," answered Ben. "Usually it is three hundred +yards long. Before the pupa has a chance to make its way out, and so +destroy the long, silken thread, the man who has taken such care of the +worm drops the cocoon into boiling water, which kills the pupa at once. +Then the precious silk thread is carefully unwound on to little spools, +and is ready to be made into thread or spun into silk. + +"And now, children, it's time for you to spin your dreams. Shake up +Peter, and we'll get ready for the night. Too bad to leave this fire, +but we can have one as often as we want." + +The boys slept like tops, but there were two little girls who lay rather +wide awake most of the night, listening to the strangest grunting sounds +in the world. + + + + +XIII + +STORM-BOUND + + +After two glorious days of exploring--"exploricating," the guides called +it--the children went to bed early, expecting to make an early start to +hunt partridge. They were so tired from their good times that for two or +three hours they slept like tops. + +But in front of the cabin Ben Gile and Mrs. Reece and the other guides +were looking at the night sky anxiously. The lightning flashed more and +more vividly, black clouds were coming nearer and nearer. What was a +distant rumble soon became a near-by, long undertow of ominous sound. +Nearer and nearer it came, until every flash was followed by a sound +like ripping. + +Mrs. Reece was very uneasy, for she did not like to have the children in +the tents alone. But soon Betty and Hope came scampering through the +dark to the cabin. They were surprised to see the older people up. +Before long the boys also came to the cabin rubbing their eyes, yawning, +and pretending not to care whether there was to be a cyclone or a +cloud-burst. + +For a while all sat waiting for the storm to break. When it did break, +what torrents of rain and wind descended! How the trees groaned and +cracked! How the rain roared upon the shingled roof, and how the wind +howled through the mountain valley! + +"Well," said Ben Gile, "let's have a fire in the fireplace, then we can +have a crackle of our own." He had noticed how nervous Mrs. Reece grew, +and that the little girls were watching her. He could not help thinking +that it was foolish, even wicked, to waste strength in fear of something +which no one of them could stop. "Build a fire, boys." And build a fire +they did--a royal good blaze. "Now throw on some of those pine-cones you +children gathered." There was a flare in the cabin almost as bright as +the incessant flare of the lightning outside. "I'll tell you what we'll +do," he continued, "we will have a midnight spread. We will have some of +Tom's famous flapjacks. Mrs. Reece, don't you want to make molasses +candy, and then the children can pull it." + +The storm was forgotten by the children as, with many squeals of glee, +they rushed into this midnight frolic. + +"And now, Ben," said Tom, the guide, "I've just found something; I have +it in my hand. I propose, Ben, while the rest of us work, that you make +one of your stories out of it, and tell us all about it." + +Tom opened his hand, and the children crowded around to see. There was a +shout of laughter. + +"Why, that's only a dead June-bug!" + +"Who wants to know about a June-bug?" exclaimed Jimmie, much to the +discomfiture of the guide, who knew a great deal about moose and deer +and bears and beavers, even if he didn't know much about a June-bug. The +guides had profound respect for the schoolmaster, Ben Gile, who was +really too wise and kind to laugh at another's ignorance. But this is +another story, and Jimmie learned better in the years to come. + +"You're right, Tom," said Ben, "to want to know. Sometimes it's about +these commonest things folks know the least. When I was a boy it was +always so with me. There are several facts about a June-bug that are +interesting. First, it is not a bug at all; and, second, it comes in +May and not in June. It is really a May-beetle, and a great, clumsy, +buzzing, blundering fellow it is, as careless about its appearance as it +is about the way it enters a room. You know the old adage, 'Haste makes +waste'? Perhaps it's the haste that makes the June-bug's untidiness. +Beetles have hard wing covers--see these little shell-like casings?--to +cover the more delicate wings underneath. The June-bug has wing covers, +too, but it never keeps its best wings tucked in. They are always +hanging out in a crumpled way. These bugs eat the leaves of the trees, +and their children, little, fat, white grubs with horny heads, nibble, +as they crawl around under the surface of the earth, the tender roots of +the grass and the strawberry plants." + +"Why, Ben, you've told me more already," said Tom, "than any dullard +like me could ever learn from a book. To think it's a beetle! But I +might have known from looking at it. Are all the beetles harmful?" + +"Most of them are pests, and do a good deal of damage. Its cousin, +rose-beetle, is pretty, her body covered with soft, yellow hairs, and +she has rose-colored legs. But handsome is as handsome does, and +rose-beetle causes more damage than her clumsy cousin, for Rose feeds +on rose-bushes as well as on fruit trees. Indeed, almost everything that +comes to her mill is grist. She's as bad--and worse--than the +elm-beetle." + +By this time the cooking molasses smelled so good, the cabin fire roared +so pleasantly, and the smell of the flapjacks Adam was frying was so +appetizing, that the children had quite forgotten the storm outside, and +were having one of the jolliest frolics of their lives--one they never +forgot. + +"Tell us something more, sir," urged Jack, "about the beetles." + +"There is one comical fellow who makes me think of Peter. In the books +it is called a click-beetle, but it is also called a skip-jack because +of the somersaults it can turn. On the under side of its thorax is a +spine resting on the edge of a hole. This funny beetle, by pushing the +spine down over the hole and then letting it go, throws itself up in the +air with a sharp click." + +"Oh, I know them," called Hope, "for I have seen them doing it, but I +never knew how they did it!" + +"And now," said Master All-Wise, very soberly, "after I tell you that +the children of the click-beetle are called wire-worms, and that they +eat and kill the roots of plants, I want to tell you about a beetle no +one of you has ever seen--a most extraordinary beetle." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Lady-beetle. +_B._ Burying-beetle. +_C._ Oil-beetle.] + +All were attention at once. + +"Many years ago there lived away out in California a little, round, +brownish, striped beetle, which crawled about and ate heartily of a +plant called the sand-bur. One day one of the family happened to wander +up to a nice, juicy potato plant. After eating its fill it probably +looked up some of its brothers and sisters, and told them about these +good plants growing in the fields. With one accord they left the +sand-burs and began to eat the potato plant. Farther and farther they +wandered, until thousands of them reached the eastern part of our +country, eating the potato plants wherever they found them on the way. +Now, these beetles are to be seen everywhere in our country, spoiling +crop after crop." + +By this time Jack's eager face was smiling, and he was looking +questioningly at Ben Gile. + +"What kind of a beetle do you suppose it was?" asked the old man. + +Nobody knew. At last Jack ventured, "Was it a potato-bug, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh, of course!" shouted the children. "Why didn't we think of that? +But you said we had never seen it." + +"So I did," said the guide, "and I don't believe there is one child here +who has ever carefully watched the potato-bug. And there's the +carpet-beetle, whose babies eat carpets unless your mother tempts them +with pieces of red flannel. And there's the searcher-beetle, with its +pretty green or violet wing covers, who is always on the search for +caterpillars. And there's the fire-fly, which is a soft-bodied beetle. + +"And there's the very useful little beetle we call the ladybug, which is +not a bug, but a beetle. The ladybug is a great help to men who own +fruit orchards in the West. All over the country are to be found little +bugs called scale insects. These scales are very bad for trees, because +with their long, slender beaks the scales pump out the sap. Sometimes +they are so thick on the branch that they coat it entirely. You remember +that I told you that one of these troublesome scales is the +cottony-cushion scale, and that one day it was discovered that a +lady-beetle from Australia liked these scales very much. So a great many +of them were taken to California to eat the scales. The ladybugs eat +little green aphids, too, and often Mrs. Ladybug will lay her eggs +right in the midst of a family of aphids; and then the larvae are +surrounded by a hearty lunch when they come out of the egg. They eat the +aphids, the scales, and sometimes the eggs of other insects." + +"Time, Ben," said Adam, "to have the flapjacks. I guess the storm must +be blowing over." + +All drew up to the cabin table, and ate as heartily as if they were +eating dinner. It really looked as if the children had had no supper. + +"In about half an hour," said Tom, "the storm will be over. Aren't there +any beetles that live in the water, Ben?" + +"Oh yes; you can see them any day if you go by a brook. The +diving-beetles are skimming about, rowing themselves along with their +flattened hind legs. Every few minutes they come to the surface and lift +their wings to get a little air under them, then down they go into the +brook. They are very hungry beetles, eating other insects which they +find in the water. The boldest often try to take a bite out of a fish. +Just think of calling a baby beetle a water-tiger! Well, these babies +are as savage and ferocious to the little creatures living about them in +the water as a big tiger would be to us, if we should happen to meet +one. + +"I like best the whirligig-beetles, they are such frisky fellows, always +having a good time, frolicking about with dozens of other little +whirligigs. They are bluish-black and shiny, and if you look carefully +you will see a little bubble at the tip of every tail. This little +bubble is held there by tiny hairs, and because whirligig has it, it can +breathe while it stays under the water. From time to time it comes to +the surface to get a new bubble, then is off again for another race or +game of tag with its friends, and at the same time to snap up a few +water creatures for dinner. It looks as though it had four eyes, but it +has not, just two, divided into upper and lower halves. The upper halves +look up through the water and the lower ones down at the bottom of the +brooks. So, you see, insects must step lively if they want to keep out +of its clutches. + +"The babies of some beetles, instead of liking nice, clean food, prefer +dead animals. The mother and father hunt around until they find a dead +mouse or bird; then they begin to dig away the earth under the mouse or +bird and around it. Finally the poor dead thing is in a deep hole; then +Mrs. Burying-beetle lays her eggs on it, and together they cover it up +with earth. When the grubs hatch they find plenty to eat, and are soon +big burying-beetles, like their mothers and fathers. + +"Did you ever wonder how the little fat worms get inside of chestnuts +and acorns? A beetle called a weevil is the creature which puts the fat +worms there. Mrs. Weevil has a long, slender, curved beak. She crawls up +on to the side of a chestnut, bores a hole in the side, then lays an egg +deep down in it. After a while the egg hatches and a tiny grub begins to +feed on the nut. Fatter and fatter it gets; sometimes it lies in the nut +all winter, but more often it crawls out and buries itself in the ground +while it grows into a weevil. + +"Some day, as you are walking along a sunny road in the country, you may +meet a blister-beetle. It is a pretty, bluish-green color, and when you +pick it up you will see drops of oil oozing out of its joints. The dried +bodies will raise a blister on the skin, and that is the reason we call +such beetles blister-beetles. There is a queer blister-beetle who lays +her eggs near bees' nests. The baby beetles then wait for a bee to come +along. They fasten themselves to the hairs on the bee's body. When the +bee goes to its nest to put in the honey the young beetle manages to +get into a honey-cell with the egg. Mrs. Bee does not see that anything +is amiss, seals up the cell, and flies away for another load. The larva +first eats the egg of Mrs. Bee, then it changes into a clumsy kind of a +fellow, floats in the honey, and eats all it can so that it will quickly +become a grown-up. + +"There is one beetle which plants a tiny fungus in its home in the +ground. The babies run along and eat the tips of this delicacy, while +the mothers and fathers take larger bites. These are called +ambrosia-beetles, because of the dainty food they eat. Now that the +storm is over, I mustn't tell you anything more than a few words about +the engraver-beetle, which lives between the bark and the live wood of a +tree. Mr. and Mrs. Engraver-Beetle make a long tunnel under the bark. +Mrs. Engraver makes notches along the sides, and in every notch lays an +egg. When the babies hatch, each one begins a tunnel for itself, running +out straight from the long one. And now that's the end of this story." + +"Well, Ben," said Tom, respectfully, "these children don't know the +value of the things they are learning. It's a privilege, sir, to have a +chance to guide with you. I've learned more in these last years about +God's wonders from you than ever I learned in all my long life. I didn't +know there were so many beetles in the world." + +"These are only half a dozen of a multitude of beetles which we haven't +the time to name." + +"Now, off to bed, children," said Mrs. Reece, "or you'll never be able +to get up early. Good-night to every one!" + + + + +XIV + +A DAY'S HUNTING + + +It was a glorious day after the night's storm. By five o'clock the +children were ready to go hunting with Ben Gile. + +Although they were rather sleepy, yet they managed to get an early +breakfast--five o'clock is an early breakfast, isn't it?--and by six +o'clock they were off into the woods. Ben Gile made the children follow +behind him in single file, and so in line, making as little noise as +possible, they went through the woods. The birch-trees and poplars, in +the midst of the darker, heavier foliage, seemed golden with the early +sunlight. Everywhere the bushes sparkled with the rain of the night +before. They took a path that ran almost in a curve around one entire +side of the mountain. Ben Gile kept a sharp lookout, for the partridge, +he knew, would be upon the ground or up in the trees. He pointed to +several places where partridge had been scratching. The woods were full +of them, and every minute he expected to hear the whir of their wings as +they started up. And, sure enough, there was suddenly a loud beating of +wings, and then, crack! crack! crack! from the shot-gun. Down came three +plump partridges. Not more than ten minutes later the old man brought +down three more. Then he let Jack, who was a good shot, take his gun, +and down came two more. + +"Eight partridge," he exclaimed, "and quite enough for us all! We shoot +only what we actually need for food, not a bird more. Oho! somebody else +made a home here. Old Paw Bear has been tearing it out and licking his +chops." + +The children leaned forward, looking eagerly. "What was it?" they asked. + +"Honey," said the guide. "Paw Bear has a sweet tooth for honey and +berries." + +"I should think the bees would sting him," said Jimmie. + +"They do try to, but little he cares, with his thick coat of hair. Not a +bit. The bees have another enemy, too, which is always hovering about to +find a chance to get into the busy little house; that is the bee-moth. +If she gets the least opportunity Mother Bee-Moth lays her eggs in the +wax of the honeycomb, for the baby moths are very fond of wax. It's not +an easy matter to get in when the bees are not looking, but she manages +it quite often; and when the little larvas hatch out of the eggs, they +eat the wax and the mischief is done. When Mother Bee-Moth is seen the +bees rush upon her and sting her to death. They have good cause to hate +her, for the wax is precious, hard to make and to mould into the little +cells. It is not pleasant to have some miserable worm eat the roof from +your head. Oftentimes the bees are so discouraged that they decide, as +they talk it over in bee language, that it is easier to build a new home +than to repair the old one. They settle upon an hour of departure, and +off they go." + +"But I didn't know," said Betty, "that bees live in their hives; I +thought that they just stored their honey there." + +"So did I," said Jimmie. + +It was Jack's time to smile, for, a country boy, he had often watched +the hives. "Couldn't you tell us something, sir? Here's a bit of the +cone left." + +"Do you want to hear?" + +"Oh, I think bees are so interesting!" Betty clapped her hands. + +[Illustration: LEAF-CUTTER BEE] + +"Did you ever look closely at a bee? Their bodies are covered with +hairs, unlike the hairs found on other insects, for each hair is a tiny +plume. And their mouths, which they have to use for so many different +things, are remarkably made; each part is formed to do a certain kind of +work. First there are the strong biting jaws, then another pair of jaws +joined to the lower lip, which move easily back and forth. This forms a +sucking instrument, which the bees use for drinking nectar." + +"My," exclaimed Peter, "it must be convenient to have two pairs of +jaws!" + +"On the head, too, are antennae, which form little elbows, like those of +the ant. With these the bee smells and feels. Some bees have short +tongues, and usually live alone; others have long tongues, and generally +live in colonies. Perhaps a long tongue makes an insect sociable, and +perhaps sociability makes a tongue grow long." + +The children were looking at their tongues to see which had the longest. +Peter scanned his anxiously. "Your tongue is awfully long, Pete," said +Jack. + +"I know an interesting short-tongued bee who lives in a house by +herself. Her name is Andrena. She bores a hole in the ground, digging +out a wide hallway. From this she digs side passages, each one ending +in a little closed room. The walls of these rooms are hard and shiny, +like porcelain. When Andrena finishes her house she makes a nourishing +paste of nectar and pollen. Pollen is the yellow powder from flowers. +You know bees, by carrying about the pollen, help in fertilizing the +flowers. But of this we shall learn more some day when we are talking +about the flowers. This powder the bee packs down into the little rooms. +Then she lays an egg on each pile of food and builds a door to shut the +egg away safely." + +"Do bees always feed their children on nectar and pollen?" asked Hope. + +"Always," replied the old man. "They never feed their babies on other +insects, as the ants and wasps do. Then there are the little +short-tongued bees who live in apartments, the apartments all clustered +together, with a common wide passageway into the ground and separate +hallways. Around the main opening is an odd chimney, built on a slant, +which prevents the rain from pouring into the open doorway." + +The children were wide-eyed with astonishment. That bees should build +chimneys was more than they could believe! + +"Goodness!" said Jimmie, "if that is what a short-tongued bee can do, +what can a long-tongued bee do?" + +"They are very clever. Some are carpenters, some masons, some miners, +some tailors. The leaf-cutter bee makes a neat home, covering the walls +with pretty, green leaves. First she digs a tunnel in a suitable branch +of wood; then she goes to a rosebush, cuts out an oval piece of a rose +leaf, and arranges it smoothly on the walls of the tunnel; cuts other +oval pieces and puts them on, fastening the edges neatly together. In +the bottom of the tunnel she puts some pollen paste, lays an egg on the +paste, cuts some circular pieces of rose leaf, which she presses on the +top of the egg and pollen, forming a green roof for the room and a floor +for the room above. She puts in more food and another egg, until the +tunnel is full of little rooms." + +"And what does the carpenter-bee do?" asked Jack, looking with new +respect at the bit of honeycomb he held in his hand. + +"She makes doors of pith, and, like the tender mother she is, sits on +top of the nest waiting for her babies to grow up. This is a most +unusual thing for a bee mother to do. The egg at the very bottom of the +tube hatches first, but it has to wait until the others hatch. +By-and-by Mrs. Carpenter-Bee takes them all out for a sunny flight in +the summer air." + +"And they never come back any more!" sang out Peter. + +"Indeed they do, you care-free youngster. The pith doors have been taken +down, and they come back to put things in order. They clean house; they +bring out every scrap piece by piece. There is a big carpenter-bee that +makes its doors of chips of wood, usually neatly glued together. There +is just one lazy bee in the world of which I know, and that is a +visiting-bee." + +"Visiting-bees?" + +"Yes, the guest-bees, who visit their friends the year round, let their +hosts wait upon them, and never help to keep anything clean or to +collect nectar and pollen. Mrs. Guest-Bee even lays her eggs in Mrs. +Bumblebee's nest, and when the guest babies hatch out, it is not their +mother, but Mrs. Bumblebee, who feeds them from the food she has stored +up for her own children. The guest-bees are so lazy that no little +baskets are found on their legs for carrying pollen." + +"But aren't the bees ever idle?" asked Peter, whose conscience hurt him +because he never liked to work. + +"No bee except the guest-bee and drone is ever idle. The happy-go-lucky +bumblebee, which buzzes so near us on these warm summer days, is always +on the go, although she is easy-going and happy-go-lucky. Mrs. Bumblebee +isn't an over-particular person, as bee persons go. She is not a careful +housekeeper, like her cousin Mrs. Honey-Bee, but she carries her own +burdens just the same, and probably is as contented in her roughly made, +untidy house as Mrs. Honey-Bee is in her beautifully neat one. Sometimes +she has a nest as big as your head, with rooms in it of all sizes and +shapes. She probably thinks the honey-bee family would get along just as +well if they were a little less fussy, and probably she is right. Early +in the spring Mrs. Bumblebee starts out house-hunting. When she finds +the place she wants she puts some honey and pollen there, and lays an +egg on the little pile. After a while the larvas come out of the eggs. +When they have eaten what they want they make a cocoon, and curl up for +a rest while they are being made into little workers. You know, the bee +family is made up of the mother bee, who is called the queen, and many +fathers, who are called drones; all the rest are workers." + +"That's something like the ants, sir, isn't it?" + +"Yes, something, Jack; but you mustn't tell that story yet. Every one of +Mrs. Bumblebee's first family are workers. While the first workers are +out getting food for their brothers and sisters, Mrs. Bumblebee takes +the old cocoons which they have left behind and makes them over into +rooms for the new babies, who are to be drones and queens. + +"They are very happy all summer long, but as it grows colder they begin +to shiver and shake. At last all die except the young queens, who have +crawled away from the nest and found a warm crack somewhere in which to +take a long nap. When the spring comes the young queens rub their eyes, +stretch their legs and wings, and are off looking for a home for their +coming families." + +"But what kind of bee's-nest did old Paw Bear get into?" asked Hope. + +"This nest was a wild honey-bee's nest. Some honey-bees are wild this +way, but most live close to the homes of men. When they live in our +gardens they live in a hive we make for them, and the families consist +of Mrs. Honey-Bee, the queen, about a hundred Mr. Honey-Bees, and many +thousands of workers. The workers are the little bees, the drones the +middle-sized ones, and the queen is the great big bee. + +"Men often help the workers to build the little cells in which they +store the honey and in which the queen lays the eggs. These cells are +six-sided rooms. Every day the queen lays an egg in one of the little +rooms, and with it the workers put some pollen and honey. In three days +out comes the larva from the egg. It is a helpless creature, soft and +white, and without feet. + +"Busy, busy workers are always on hand to take the best care of the +babies. The first food the nurses give them is bee jelly, which looks +something like blanc-mange. This bee jelly the workers make in their +stomach, then feed it from their own mouths into the baby mouths. After +lunching a couple of days on bee jelly they are old enough to eat pollen +and honey, which the workers get out of the six-sided rooms where they +have packed it away. + +"These babies grow very quickly. Soon they are so long that they almost +fill their rooms. Then the nurses put in some extra food, tuck in the +babies, and make a roof of wax over each room. For a whole day the baby +has to feed itself, shut away all alone; then it stops eating, and lies +very quietly while it is being made into a real bee. In about thirteen +days it splits its dried skin, in which it has been napping, gnaws a +hole in the wax roof, and out it comes--a full-fledged bee. + +"But it is too new and young to go out in the big world yet, so for a +few weeks it is kept busy in the hive nursing other baby bees. When it +has grown stronger it leaves the hive, flying out over the sunny +pastures in search of buttercups and clover heads. + +"Whenever the honey-bees want to make a queen they know just how to do +it. You know, a queen is a very important person. A bee queen is like an +ant queen, not the ruler of a kingdom, but the mother of many, many +children. Since a queen is a person of such note, she must have a larger +room than an ordinary worker, so they set to work and tear down the +partitions between two or three cells. When the egg in the large room +hatches the white larva is fed bee jelly, just like the little worker +larva, but it is never given any pollen or honey. When it is five days +old some jelly is put in the room with it and a roof is built over its +head. For seven long days the baby stays here all alone, then it gnaws +its way out, and, wonder of wonders, we have a queen instead of a +worker! + +"Now, Mrs. Honey-Bee has been the queen of the family so long she is +very angry to have a young queen hatch out, and does all she can to kill +her. But the workers have spent much time and labor in making this +queen, and they stand close around her to protect her from the jealous +old queen. The honey-bee family, however, has grown so big that there is +room for no new babies in the hive, and that is the reason that the +workers have raised a new queen, so that she may start a new family. + +"There is not room in one house for two queens; one must go, and it is +usually old Mrs. Honey-Bee. Surrounded by part of the family, she flies +out of the old home in search of a new place. If she is living in some +one's garden a new hive is all ready for her, and she soon settles down +again to her egg-laying, while the workers hurry to bring in food for +the new babies. If there is no hive ready for this exiled family, it +swarms in a tree or any other good place it happens to find." + +"Yes," said Betty; "but do the workers have to work all the time?" + +"They do everything except the egg-laying. All the pollen and honey +must be brought into the hive by them. Have you ever seen the little +baskets which working bees have for carrying pollen? Perhaps you do not +know what pollen is. Well, some day look right down in the centre of a +flower and you will find some fine yellow powder. That is pollen, or bee +bread, and the bees are very fond of it. On the hind leg of the worker +is a nice smooth place, and on each side of it are stiff, curved hairs +which cover it over. Into this little cage the bees push the pollen, +then fly swiftly away toward the hive. Here this heavily laden little +fellow stands over one of the rooms and pushes the pollen off his hind +legs by scraping with his middle legs. + +"You have eaten honey, and know how thick and sweet it is. Very unlike +the sweetened water in the flower-cups, isn't it? The bees make this +honey out of the watery nectar, and I will tell you how they do it. The +bee sips this sweet nectar into its mouth, then the nectar goes down a +tiny tube into a little pouch called the honey sac. This sac opens into +the stomach, but between the two are little lips which guard the +entrance. If the worker is hungry the little lips open, and the nectar +goes from the honey sac into the stomach. But if it wants to carry it +back to the hive the lips stay tightly closed. When the honey sac is +full the worker flies back to the hive and empties it into one of the +rooms. + +"Then a number of bees stand with their heads bent downward and move +their wings just as fast as they can, looking like miniature electric +fans. Of course they grow very warm, and this makes the hive warm. This +warm air evaporates the extra water in the nectar, and soon the honey is +all finished. These bees which beat the air so tirelessly keep the hive +fresh and sweet, which is very necessary when so many bees live in one +house. + +"The workers make the cells as well as fill them, and now a very queer +thing happens. A great many bees eat a great deal of honey. They eat all +they can hold, then crawl up to the top of the hive. There are as many +there as can find room; the rest hang on to these until a curtain of +bees is formed. Sometimes they hang quietly and patiently for several +days until, on the under side of the abdomen, tiny shining plates of wax +appear. Other workers break off these pieces of wax and build them up +into cells. You know how big a pound is, don't you? Well, just think how +many, many times the bees must carry honey to the hives when I tell you +that twenty-one pounds of honey will make but one pound of wax. Bees are +very economical with their wax. When they have to patch up holes and +fill in cracks in their hives they do it with a gum which they scrape +off sticky buds. + +"All summer long these workers are laying in food to keep this large +family during the cold weather. If for any reason the supply of food is +low the workers sting the babies to death rather than have them starve. +Is it any wonder that these workers, who have so much to do and so many +cares from morning until night, die very young? The queen may live for +two or three years, but the workers do not live longer than six or eight +weeks." + +"Goodness me!" said Jimmie, "I wouldn't have believed there was any +insect on the face of the earth as clever as those bees! If insects were +all like that, I'd want to know about every one of them. Can't you tell +us something of the wasp? They must be clever fellows, too." + +"Not to-day," answered Ben Gile; "it is getting toward noon, and we must +start home for dinner and to get our partridge cooked. Pick up the +birds, Jack, and put them in your game-bag. We must be off." + + + + +XV + +LEAVING CAMP + + +At last the day had come, and the children were to leave +Camp-in-the-Clouds. They had been there for one whole glorious week of +fishing, hunting, camping, picnicing, stories, and sleeping in tents. +Betty and Jimmie felt rather sober, for the time for them to go back to +the city was drawing near. A week now, and their good times for the +summer would be over. Already the leaves were turning a little, and the +air growing crisper every day. Indeed, up in Camp-in-the-Clouds they had +twice in the early morning to break the ice on the spring in order to +get the water, and at night the blankets felt warm and cosey. Betty and +Jimmie liked their city home, and after they were once in it they +enjoyed their school work, too. They had many friends, entertainments, +parties, and made many expeditions to the Zoo and to the parks. But, +somehow, the happiest days of all the year came in the summer in +Rangeley Village. Every hour seemed precious to them now, and the +fingers on Betty's right hand--the number of days that were left--were +all too few. Even Jimmie, who cared less for the country than Betty did, +was sorry. And the children were sorry to have them go. All through the +cold, white winter in Rangeley Village they were expecting the Reece +children and the old guide. With their coming, good times began again. + +And this morning, on which they were leaving camp, they felt rather +blue, for, although they expected to come back the next summer, as +indeed they did, yet it seemed such a long, long time to wait! They +followed Ben Gile single file down the mountain at a good pace, but +without saying very much. By noon they had reached the Dead River Ponds, +and were ready for luncheon. + +"I think some of that birch, Tom," said Ben Gile, "would make a good +fire for us." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Feeding the baby wasps. +_B._ A grown-up wasp.] + +Tom, who was a famous woodchopper in winter, went off toward the tree, +followed by lazy little Peter, who loved to see others work. Soon the +chips were flying right and left. Suddenly there was a yell from Peter. +Tom dropped his axe. Ben Gile hurried over to the boy, and the others +crowded around. Tom was sure a splinter had gone into Peter's eye. The +lad was holding on to his eye, and jumping up and down with pain. But as +Ben Gile was trying to make the boy take his hand away, Tom exclaimed, +grabbed one hand with the other, and made for the pond. "It's hornets, +Ben!" he called; and before the others could say anything he had clapped +some mud on his own hand and brought mud for Peter's eye, which he +poulticed with this useful material, and tied around it a big white +handkerchief. Although Peter did not in the least like the bite, yet he +felt rather proud of the bandage, and for the first time in his life he, +too, wanted to know about the creatures who could give so much pain. + +"Tell us, sir," the children cried, "about the wasps while dinner is +cooking." + +So Ben Gile, who had left the cooking to the other guides, gathered the +children and Mrs. Reece about him, and began: "One day last fall I saw, +high up in a tree near the pond, the pretty, gray nest of Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp. It did not look like a real house, with windows in it and +steps leading up to it. But there it hung, swinging in the bare +branches, its walls of pretty, soft gray blending so beautifully with +the pale-blue sky. + +"I wondered whether any of the wasp family was at home, but the house +was too high for me to reach, so I went away to find a long pole with +which to knock. With my long pole I knocked gently at first, then louder +and louder, but no one stirred within. So I poked harder, trying to +break off a strong branch which ran straight through the top of the +house. At last it broke off, and down came the gray house almost into my +arms. + +"It was big and round, like a Japanese lantern. Guess of what it was +made? Just paper. But not our kind of paper; it was wasp-paper. Mrs. +Vespa and her family make this paper out of wood-pulp, which they get by +scraping off the weathered wood from trees and fences. Of course this +old wood is of various colors, but that makes the house so much the +prettier. One wasp comes back with its burden of woody pulp rolled up in +a little pellet. This it takes and spreads in thin ribbons along the +edge of the wall which is being made. Perhaps this edge is dark gray. +Then off it flies for more material, while another takes its place with +a pellet of light gray, which is soon skilfully moulded on to the edge. +Sometimes the outer wall consists of several layers of this wasp-paper, +which is strong and waterproof. Within the wall are many stories of +cone, built like different floors in our own houses. + +"Early in the spring Mrs. Vespa-Wasp, who has been passing the cold +winter days tucked away in a warm crevice somewhere, comes out and finds +a site for her summer home. She begins this as a very small and simple +one, starting with just a few rooms fastened to the branch of a tree. +Here she lays an egg in each little room, then brings in food for the +new baby wasps which are in the making. The kind of food which is stored +away depends upon the kind of wasps. Some like beetles, some spiders, +some caterpillars, and others grasshoppers and cicadas. + +"As in the bee family, the first children are all workers, because Mrs. +Vespa-Wasp needs assistance in building up the home and feeding the +children. This first home is small, not nearly large enough for the +growing family, so new rooms must be built at once. These are added on +to the first ones until there is a good-sized layer of them. If Mrs. +Wasp should go on making this upper story larger and larger, it would be +buffeted about by the wind and rain, and perhaps broken. So the family +starts a second story under the first. On the under side of the top +floor some of the cells are broken away and a stem is made to start the +next floor, and so on, until there are four or five combs in the house. +They are always building the house over, tearing down the walls to make +room for new floors; but this does not make the house unsafe in the mean +time, as the walls are not connected with the floors, but form a loose +envelope about them. + +"Later in the season, after the family has become very large, some of +the upper cells are torn out, making a nice, warm attic, where the +family may go to keep out of the wind and rain. They dislike the cold +and wet very much. + +"I carried this big house to my cabin with me, so that I might look it +over and see just how it was arranged. Very carefully I cut away a +little of the outer wall until I had a place large enough to look +through. Guess what I saw lying cuddled down in many of these rooms? +Little, soft, white baby wasps. When the Vespa family are grown up they +are called hornets, and Peter and Tom know how hornets sting! I was not +afraid of the babies, but was not sure that all the old wasps were out. +It was a cold day, and wasps get stiff very quickly, so I watched +carefully to see whether the warm air of the room would not limber up +some stiff joints which were perhaps in hiding up-stairs in the house. +Sure enough, in a few moments out crawled a worker, looking quite dazed +and sheepish at the change in temperature. I did not wait for it to +become thoroughly awake, but picked it up with the forceps and put it +out of the window. I was kept busy, for twenty-five old fellows walked +out, thinking, no doubt, that they had made a mistake in the season, and +that it was not time, after all, for them to die. All the wasp family, +except the queens, expect to die, and do die in the autumn. + +"I could not find either flies or spiders for the babies, and even if +there had been a few about I could not have used them, as there was no +worker wasp to chew them soft and fine for them. So I made a nice, +appetizing syrup of sugar and water, and found that young wasps were as +eager for sweets as little children are. They worked their baby mouths +busily as long as I had the patience to feed them. When the Vespa family +are grown up they eat honey dew from the little aphids, fruit juice, and +the nectar from flowers, or, if fortune favors them, they may gain +entrance to Mrs. Honey-Bee's home, and feast from her well-filled +honeycombs. But the babies all eat insects which their mothers put in +the little rooms beside the eggs. + +"Mrs. Polistes is a cousin of Mrs. Vespa. She is long and slender, while +Mrs. Vespa is rather broad. Her house is a much simpler affair. It has +just one layer of rooms suspended by a stem from the under side of a +porch, or maybe the eaves, of a house." + +"Are there solitary wasps," asked Jimmie, "just as there are solitary +bees?" + +"Many wasps prefer to live alone rather than in a big house with +hundreds of others. They are like bees in their cleverness, knowing how +to tunnel in wood, dig deep pits in the ground, or make nests of mud. +Mr. Kellogg, a very wise man, and young to be so wise, tells of one +interesting little wasp, called the thread-waisted sand-digger, which +lives in California in the salt-marshes. These marshes are covered by +plants, but in between are little smooth places covered with a +glistening crust of salt. It is in these open spots that Mrs. +Sand-Digger makes her home. She has strong jaws, and with these she cuts +out a neat little circle of salty crust. Then she begins to dig a +tunnel, humming away to herself all the time. After the hole is ready +she very carefully backs out of it and puts a circular door on. + +"Then she flies away to find food to store up for her children. These +babies like tender, green inch-worms, so Mrs. Digger-Wasp hunts around +until she finds a fat one, and then proceeds to paralyze it, so that it +will stay quietly in the house until the babies are ready to eat it, for +baby digger-wasps are little cannibals, preferring living caterpillars +to any pre-digested spiders or flies. It is very wonderful that Mrs. +Digger-Wasp knows where to sting a caterpillar in order to paralyze it +and yet not kill it. But she does. Perhaps you remember that insects +have knots of nerve cells, connected by nerve threads, extending from +one end of the body to the other? Jimmie remembers that I pinched him to +illustrate this point. The knot on the top of the food-tubes is the +brain, then underneath there are usually three in the thorax and several +in the abdomen. Well, Mrs. Digger-Wasp stings one or more of these +little knots, which we call ganglia. That paralyzes the young inch-worm, +so that it becomes limp and helpless, but still lives. Then Mrs. Wasp +picks it up and carries it to her house, and packs it in the bottom of +the tunnel. + +"After putting in five or ten she lays an egg, fastening it on the body +of one of the worms. She backs out of the tunnel, and flies off to +collect balls of dirt. With these she fills up the tunnel completely. +Carefully she puts the little round door on. One day some one saw her do +a curious thing. She wished to be very sure that the door was fast shut. +Perhaps it did not fit well. So she found a tiny pebble, held it in her +jaws, and hammered the door down with it. Wasn't that a clever thing for +a wasp to do? The door closed, this is all the attention she gives to +baby digger-wasps. She has put in plenty of food, even for the hungriest +larva. Now it must look out for itself, eat, grow fat and strong, and +then dig its way out into the salt-marsh. + +"Mrs. Eumenes is a good-looking little wasp dressed in black and yellow. +She is a mason, making a pretty mud vase for a home. The clay, or mud, +she moistens, then moulds it, little by little, into the vase, which she +fastens on to a twig. Some mud-daubers make small cylinders placed side +by side. Into these they put stung spiders, after tearing off their legs +to make sure they will not recover and run away before the eggs hatch. +Sometimes the mud-daubers plaster up the keyholes in a house, and so +have snug homes. + +"One day last summer, as I was sitting outside my cabin, I noticed a +wasp carrying something green in its mouth. It came close to my head, +then finally crawled up under the shingles on the side wall. All the +afternoon it came and went, each time bringing something green. The next +afternoon I was loading my guns, and had put a hollow gun-barrel on a +table at my side. Soon I heard a whir of insect wings, and there, on the +table, was my wasp friend. It walked up and down, examining very +carefully the hollow barrel, then cautiously it crawled in. In about +five minutes it crawled out again and flew away. Soon it was back with a +piece of green in its mouth. It crawled into the barrel and left the +green. Six times the wasp did this; then my curiosity became so great I +could wait no longer. When she flew away I tapped the barrel on the +table and emptied out six little green worms, all limp and still. But +Mrs. Wasp was back again, and I guiltily withdrew. She had brought the +seventh worm, and when she saw the six lying on the table she was much +puzzled. She went around and poked each one to see whether it was limp, +fearing, perhaps, that she had not stung them hard enough; but, finding +them helpless, she picked them up one by one and patiently carried them +back into the gun-barrel. Three times I emptied them out, and three +times she put them back, then flew away, never to return. I suppose the +last time she went in she laid the egg among the little worms, and then, +her duty done, was off to find another good place to start a family. + +"Have you ever seen a big cicada which makes the long, rasping sound in +the trees? Some wasps like these very much for food. So, when cicada +sings, Mrs. Wasp swoops down on it, stings it, and then, big and clumsy +as it is, carries it to her home for her children to feast upon." + +"A cicada is three or four times as large as a wasp, isn't it?" asked +Mrs. Reece. + +"Yes; but there is nothing the wasps can't do," replied Ben Gile. + +"I should think not!" exclaimed Peter, who by this time was able to +smile again. + +"The trout are ready, Ben," said Adam, "and everything else, too, I +guess." + +With running and laughter the children were soon about the fire, eating +their last delicious out-of-door dinner. + + + + +XVI + +EYES AND NO EYES + + +The evening party at Ben Gile's cabin was to be the last of all the +beautiful summer, for the next day Betty and Jimmie were to leave with +their mother for the city, and this was the evening which was to decide +who was to receive the prize. + +Betty had been working very hard for it, and wanted it. But Jimmie +couldn't see any use in lying with your nose on an ant-hill. As for +Peter, he giggled whenever ants were mentioned to him, and seemed not to +care much one way or another. Hope, however, was often with Betty, and +the two girls, flat on the grass, tried to discover as many mysteries as +they could about the busy little fellows. As for Jack, he was as busy as +the ants, following them about, lying quietly for hours, and borrowing +any book he could find that would tell about them. It seemed to him that +if he could have that magnifying-glass, that book of colored plates, +and the five-dollar gold piece, he would be the richest boy in all the +world! He thought about it by night and by day, and he was certain that +with the insect book and the glass, he should discover things nobody +else in the world had ever seen. + +The poor boy was trembling with eagerness on this evening of the party +at the guide's cabin. The children took their turn in telling what they +knew. Peter giggled, and said they seemed to lug a good deal of food. +Jimmie said they ran in and out of their ant hills very fast, and knew +how to build big hills. Hope was so frightened that, when it came her +turn, the child could not tell even the little she knew. + +But Betty, who loved everything in the out-of-door world, forgot herself +and her fright in the true love which she had for natural history. She +said she had spent hours in a neighborhood of ants, near the doorways +they had in the ground. Some of the doorways were large, and some were +small, and the little ants who went in and out of the doors carried off +the pieces of cake she fed to them. Sometimes the crumbs were three or +four times as big as the ants. She had seen two little ants attack a +large piece of cake, but it proved too much for them, so one mounted +guard over it while the other scurried off. In a few moments it came +back with a whole squad of ants, who surrounded the cake and pushed and +pulled with all their might. They actually got it to the door, Betty +said, and after that she could see it no more. Then Betty spoke a little +wistfully: "If only I had been an ant I could have gone down after it. I +could have seen what they did with it, sir." + +"Well, my dear," said Ben Gile, "if you want to see what they do, start +a colony of them some day in a glass case. That will solve a good many +of your problems. And now, what else?" + +"I saw them doing a good deal that was interesting, sir, but I couldn't +understand it." + +"It's your turn, Jack. We will come back to Betty by-and-by." + +"I found out, sir, that in every ant colony there are always three kinds +of ants--the queens, the males, and the workers. It's much like what you +told us of the bees. And it seemed to me, sir, every time I looked at +them, that they were happy together, busy with their work and never +quarrelling with one another. I suppose they were happy because each one +had some special work to do. I looked it all up in the books, and I +found that some are born queens, to be waited on, while others are born +workers, to do the serving. But they are all contented. + +"The queen ant is not a real queen ruling a little kingdom; she is the +mother ant, and lays all the eggs. She is well cared for and protected +by the workers. These are the active little ants who do the work. They +are happy, too, running about, digging new passageways, clearing the +paths to their front doors, and bringing in food, which they store in +their granaries. Some ants, sir, build their tunnels very deep +underground. A doorway opens into a wide gallery, from which others +branch and wind their way down into the dark ground. Sometimes they +build a high mound around the entrance, and often a large colony will +have many such mounds." + +[Illustration: +_A._ Honey ant. +_B._ Ants exchanging greetings.] + +"Some ants," added Ben Gile, "dig out their homes in dead logs or hollow +stems. I know of one little fellow who is clever enough to build a shed. +It hunts around to find decayed wood. This it chews into a fine pulp, +then spreads it out into a roof; sometimes it is a good-sized roof. This +same ant dearly loves the honeydew which aphids secrete. So in order to +protect these helpless little green bugs, and make them as comfortable +and contented as possible, they build a neat shed over them. When the +ants wish a dainty luncheon of honeydew they crawl up under the little +shed and get a drink of this sweet juice. Although a colony of ants +lives together so peacefully, Jack, they are apt to be very quarrelsome +with their neighbors; often they go to war with another colony if the +members of that colony happen to trespass on their grounds." + +"I found out about some naughty, lazy ants, sir. Instead of taking care +of their own homes and hunting up their own food, they go out to war +against another kind of ant, which is living quietly and attending to +its own business. All the grown-up ants these little fighters either +kill or frighten so that they run away as fast and as far as their legs +will carry them. Then these lazy ants steal the eggs and the babies. +Some of them they eat on the way home, but most of them they carry to +their underground galleries. There they take good care of them until +they are grown up. Then these stolen babies become the slaves of the +lazy ants; but the poor little slaves have never known any other life, +so they cheerfully serve their masters, doing everything for them; in +fact, so long have these masters had little slaves to wait upon them +that they do not know at all how to look out for themselves. They have +been known to starve to death rather than to feed themselves." + +"But there are many respectable ants," objected Ben Gile, "and I will +tell you how a well-regulated household behaves. One day last summer, +when I was walking in the afternoon, I found myself suddenly surrounded +by a cloud of winged insects--thousands and thousands of them. I caught +one of them and found that it was a winged ant, for the males and queens +have wings with which to fly away on their wedding journey. This journey +lasts only a short time, and usually many colonies fly up together in +the bright summer air. The wedding journey is a picnic for hungry birds. +Just think of finding such a mass of juicy morsels at one time. They fly +into the crowd and eat as many of the ants as they can. But many escape. +At last they become exhausted. The males fall to the ground and die. The +queens break off their wings, because they never need them after the +wedding journey. + +"They look about for a good place to start a new home. The first thing +the queen does is to lay her eggs in a neat little pile. These soon +hatch out into larvae; tiny, worm-like grubs without any legs. Queen +ants feed their babies faithfully with nice, tender insects, which they +chew for them. Sometimes these larvae spin a tiny cocoon, in which +they lie quietly while they are being made over into ants--perhaps into +a queen, like the mother, or a male, like the father; perhaps into a +worker, which is the mainstay of the whole colony. This first family of +babies the queen mother must look out for herself, but just as soon as +the baby workers are grown up it is their turn to help her. + +"The first set of workers are very small. From morning until night they +are busy. Early in the morning they must go out for food, to catch +insects for the queen's breakfast and for the queen's baby ants. To be +sure, it does not take long to prepare this meal, as it is chewed for +the babies instead of cooked. Then the house must be set to rights, +extra grains of sand must be cleared out of the paths and galleries. +Perhaps some careless little girl or boy may have stepped on the mound +around the entrance and crushed it. The workers hurry to clear away the +ruins, and soon have a new mound neatly piled up. Tell us, Jack, what +you know about these workers." + +Jack's face was bright with eagerness. "Well, sir, in ant homes there +are always babies, lots of them, just as in other homes. These little +larvae must be fed often and kept clean. The workers are the nurses as +well as housekeepers. If the babies happen to be in a cool, damp part of +the house they must be carried into a warmer, drier place. So the +workers pick them up and take them out for an airing. Often they carry +the little cocoons out into the warm sunshine or move them about from +place to place. In some families of ants there are some with very big +heads and strong jaws. These are the soldiers. If there is any trouble +in their village these big-headed fellows go out as scouts or act as +sentinels around the ant-hill. But the head of the worker is rather +small. It's a clever head, though, sir. On it are two antennae, +bent, sir, like sharp little elbows. You told us that ants talk with +their antennae. These feelers are very sensitive. I watched two ants +one day and saw them rubbing them together." + +"I am sure," said Ben Gile, "that some very exciting and interesting +conversations are carried on by these fellows." + +"Back of the head," continued Jack, "is the thorax, with the six legs, +then a very narrow piece joining the thorax and abdomen." + +"I know of one ant," added the guide, "who is nothing more or less than +a honey-jar. This honey-ant hangs by its legs from the roof of its home. +The little workers go out and visit the oak-trees and hunt around for +balls called oak galls. From these they get honey, which they carry home +and feed to the little fellows hanging on the ceiling by their heels. +The honey is stored away in their crops. All day these honey-jar ants +are fed, until the abdomens are as big as a currant, and the sweet, +yellow honey shines through the skin. When any of the family gets hungry +it crawls up to one of these fat little fellows and takes a refreshing +sip." + +"I know of another ant," began Jack, who could scarcely wait to begin, +"who lives in the home of a larger ant. This one builds small tunnels +connected with the large ones of the big ant, but is careful to make the +doorways so small that the big ones cannot creep in and eat up the +babies. When Little Ant gets hungry it crawls up on Big Ant's back. Very +gently it strokes its head, then licks its cheek until the mouth of Big +Ant fairly waters. This is just what Little Ant intends the mouth shall +do. It laps up the drop of sweetness, crawls down, climbs on the back of +another big ant, and has a second luncheon. Sometimes little thief ants +live in other ants' houses, stealing the food which the workers have +been so busy collecting all the long day." + +By this time the children were listening in open-eyed astonishment to +Jack, who had absorbed so much of the spirit and the information of the +old guide that he could talk almost as interestingly. + +"Mother aphids," interrupted Ben Gile, "who like corn very well, lay +their eggs at the roots of the corn. But if the babies hatch out before +the corn roots are ready there is a family of ants who come to the +rescue. They carry these babies over to some other roots, where they may +feed until the corn roots grow. Later they carry them carefully back +again. Of course, they do not do this because they care for the welfare +of the aphids, but because they know if the little corn lice have plenty +to eat they themselves will have plenty of honeydew, which they love." + +"And there's a harvester, sir, who builds a big mound around its front +door and carefully clears away the grass. Into the long galleries of its +home it carries a great many seeds, and stores them away. All the chaff +and hard parts which it cannot eat it carries out again." + +"Leading up to the big mound," added Ben Gile, "are clear pathways as +distinct as any path you or I make through the grassy fields. Perhaps +ants are too little to do very much thinking, but they do many things +which you and I would have to think about a long time before we should +be able to do them. They have a good government which runs along without +friction. They can build roads, dig tunnels, spin silken webs, build +sheds, go to war, harvest grain into the storehouses, and keep a farm of +aphids." + +By the time the old guide had finished Betty was waving her hand the way +she did in school. "Please, sir, I don't know half as much as Jack does. +He has told all I know, and more, too." + +Ben Gile smiled at Betty, for he was very fond of her. He stroked his +white beard, and went on smiling as if he had some pleasant thought in +the back of his head. "Well, now, we must decide who has won the prize. +Mrs. Reece, what do you think?" + +Mrs. Reece was proud of her Betty, and would rather have had her the +generous little girl she was than have her win all the prizes in the +world. "I think Jack has abundantly earned the prize." + +"And now, children, what do you think?" + +"Jack!" they all shouted. + +"Jack," said the guide, bringing forward three parcels, "here is the +five-dollar gold piece--this will help you buy what you need; here is +the book, which will help you to identify what you see; and here is the +magnifying-glass. Remember, my boy, as you look through it, that it is +God's work you are seeing. We have been through the old story of 'Eyes +and No Eyes' with you boys. Peter, I'm afraid, goes out and sees +nothing. You, Jack, have used your eyes, and already you have learned +much that ought to make you a wiser man. As you look through the glass +it is well to reflect that you will never see a cathedral window as +beautiful as some wings you look upon, from the clear lights of the +cicada's wing to the gorgeous dyes of the moth. You will never see groin +or arch or hinge more wonderful than the covers of a wing or the +exquisite joint of some little insect. You may travel the world over +before you can find, made by man's hand, such mystery and beauty as lie +about you in the natural world. All the dynasties of Egypt could not +shape the scale on a moth's wing. All the religion of the past can shape +nothing that will do the Creator so much reverence as the world He has +created, the world we have about us. There, my boy, that is a long +sermon, but you will profit by it, for the world will hear of you yet. + +"And now there's a little girl in this room who has worked faithfully to +find out what she could. She is five years younger than you, Jack, and I +want her to have something, too." + +For a minute Jack looked troubled; then he said, resolutely, "Let me +give her my book, sir." + +"No, no, Jack," replied Ben Gile, pleased with the lad's generosity. "I +have an extra book here." Betty's face was beaming. "Now let me write in +your books; then to supper, around our last camp-fire for this summer." + +In a few minutes the children were about the fire, and there was the +smell of roasting corn, the sizzle of broiling partridge tied around +with bacon, and the fragrance of coffee for the older people. The +firelight seemed particularly jolly. Betty was very happy with her book +(nor would she be parted from it the next day on the train), and Jack +was radiant. They ate and talked and sang about the camp-fire, thought +Ben Gile the wisest man in the world, Mrs. Reece the kindest of mothers, +hoped that next year would come soon, and wanted to know what stories +they were to hear when the long winter was over. + +"Perhaps it will be birds," said the guide; "perhaps fish; perhaps +flowers; maybe it will be spiders and crabs. Next summer is a long way +off. And now I have to go back to my school." + +In a short time a line of lanterns was seen swinging and dancing up the +hill of Rangeley as the children filed homeward. The summer was over. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE BUSYBODIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 21948.txt or 21948.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/9/4/21948 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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