Dougherty] THE TUSSOCK MOTH 423 



which he sat. As he spun more and more, the little case, or cocoon, 

 grew thicker and thicker with little larva on the inside. Then he 

 became tired of this also, or did he run out of silk for the spinning ? 

 Anyway, he went to sleep. But not so fast alseep that he could 

 not stir very much if anything disturbed him. 



While he slept, he grew, just as any boy would, and he changed 

 too. It was a long, long time that he slept, by insect time. It was 

 as though a boy should go to sleep and sleep until he became a man 

 But yet it was different. 



One day he really waked up. He had been in bed long enough, 

 and out he came. One end of the little silk cocoon had been left 

 loose enough so that he could crawl out. It was quite an effort, 

 and he broke the dried leaf, on which he had spun his cocoon, from 

 the twig, in getting out. But that did not matter, for there was 

 the twig to stand on and stretch himself after his long nap. When 

 he did stretch himself, lo — he had wings! There were no tufts 

 now, but instead of the two on his head were two beautiful feathery 

 antennas which lay back near the sides of his head or stood out 

 toward the front. His wings were a beautiful, soft brownish gray 

 on top, but almost white underneath. 



As he rested there, he saw near him another cocoon. Resting 

 on the outside of it was the prettiest little furry -looking bug, as 

 white and soft as a kitten, and with a brown head and big bright 

 eyes. 



Little Larva was Little Larva no more since his long sleep, 

 during which the giant called him a pupa. Now he was Tussock 

 Moth. 



When Tussock Moth discovered the bright-eyed, furry bunch 

 near him, he knew at once that she was a little tussock moth, too, 

 even though she had no wings. 



He flew to her at once, and she became his mate. 



Soon a bunch of snow-white eggs covered the cocoon where the 

 little wingless moth sat. Then she disappeared, and the giant did 

 not learn her fate. Perhaps she made a meal for a hungry bird, 

 who turned her into song. 



At all events, her work was done, for from the eggs she had laid 

 would come more little larvae like the one with which our story 

 began, and such as she herself had once been. 



