12 The Book of Bugs. 



As I say, I did my best to get a mounted specimen of 

 the common clothes-moth. They had them in the 

 museums, too many of them, but none was mounted. 

 The curators didn't know of anybody that collected 

 Tineids. They had the Thinguiiibobbins what'sitsnaincii 

 from Southern Madagascar, but the common clothes- 

 moth, no. Never heard of anybody mounting that. 



Now in this book I am going to stick close to the center 

 of the world. The Thingumbobbius what' sit snameii 



o 



may be very rare and costly, and in its habitat of Southern 

 Madagascar may form a pleasing feature of the tropical 

 landscape with its wings of flame, but it concerns me not 

 half so much as the thing nearer home of which the poet 

 has sung that it 



"... lias no wings at all, 

 But it gets there just the same." 



What shall we do when we find it under the pillows? 

 That's what I want to know, and I am satisfied that all 

 of my fellow-citizens are vitally interested in this topic 

 and others germane. 



Most of the time we forget that the advent of man 

 upon the stage of life in increasing numbers and influence 

 is recent, and completely disruptive of the order of things 

 established for countless ages, and that all sorts of 

 troubles come upon us by consequence. While our an- 

 cestors ran wild and naked it made little difference 

 whether there was one more kind of animal or not, and in 

 the slow progress of centuries what changes man effected 

 in the face of nature were minor and evanescent, but the 

 periods marked by the general coming into use of gun- 

 powder and dynamite have wrought such sweeping 

 changes that the world can never be the same as it was, 

 it can never go on again in the same old way. For not 

 only is the aspect of nature altered, but also the mind of 



