MOTHS OF THE LIMBERLOST 



Recovering myself with a start, I had it under my net 

 — that had waited twenty years to cover it ! Inside 

 the door I dropped the net, and the moth crept on my 

 fingers. What hick! What extra golden hick ! I almost 

 felt that God had been sorry for me, and sent it there to 

 encourage me to keep on picturing the beauties and 

 wonders of His creations for people who could not go 

 afield to see for themselves, and to teach those who 

 could to protect helpless, harmless things for their use 

 and beauty. 



I walked down the hall, and vaguely scanned the solid 

 rows of books and specimens lining the library walls. 

 I scarcely realized the thought that was in my mind, but 

 what I was looking for was not there. The dining-room 

 then, with panelled walls and curtains of tapestry? It 

 was not there! Straight to the white and gold music 

 room I went. Then a realizing sense came to me. It 

 was Brussels lace for which I was searching! On the 

 most delicate, snowiest place possible, on the finest 

 curtain there, I placed my Cecropia, and then stepped 

 back and gazed at it with a sort of "Touch it over my 

 dead body" sentiment in my heart. An effort was 

 required to arouse myself, to realize that I was not 

 dreaming. To search the fields and woods for twenty 

 years, and then find the specimen I had sought awaiting 

 me at my own door! Well might it have been a dream, 

 but that the Cecropia, clinging to the meshes of the 



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