175 



pilosis. It is incomplete in the sense that 

 the change is not of a very radical nature. 

 But in the case of the silk worm moths, 

 and moths and butterflies in general, the 

 larva which hatches from the eggs has 

 not even the most superficial resem- 

 blance to the adult insect, the fully-devel- 

 oped moth. This necessitates a complete 

 change or metamorphosis in the form 

 and structure of the insect before it can 

 become mature. This great change is ac- 



complished during the quiet pupal stage 

 in the cocoon. Because the pupa is ap- 

 parently passive when viewed from the 

 exterior, one must not conclude that it is 

 so internally ; far from it ; the digestive 

 organs of the larva must be completely 

 made over from those of a chewing leaf 

 eater to those of a moth which can only 

 take liquid food. 



Charles Christopher Adams. 



CASTLES IN THE AIR. 



In a little bend of the San Joaquin 

 River, where the current, attempting 

 to straighten its course, has left a bank 

 a few feet wide, there is a small grove 

 of tall Cottonwood trees, perhaps a 

 dozen in number, whose branches lean 

 far over the stream and whose tops 

 reach almost to the level of the bluff 

 or rather the floor of the valley 250 

 feet above, for this swift river has, in 

 the course of ages, cut thus deep a 

 channel for itself. 



The place is not easy of access, for 

 the shore narrows above and below the 

 bend to a few inches where one with 

 difficulty keeps from crumbling away 

 the sand with his feet and falling into 

 the water, and the cliff is so nearly 

 perpendicular that in many places it is 

 inaccessible to a climber, being of soft 

 sand whose different stratas are clearly 

 defined where they have been sliced 

 off by the cutting stream. 



The valley above is a vast grainfield 

 out almost to the edge of the bluff, and 

 along the edge and face of the bluff, 

 wherever root can cling or tendril hold, 

 grow beautiful wild flowers in the 



early spring days — their last refuge 

 between the cultivation and the deep 

 sea, or rather, river. 



In the tops of the cottonwoods live 

 a number of baronial families in castles 

 huge, gray and ugly, overlooking the 

 sweep of the stream. They are the 

 Great Blue Herons whose Latin title, 

 (Ardea herodias), gives one some idea 

 of their ancient Imeage. They claim to 

 be older than the storks of Egypt, and 

 indeed, they look older as they stand 

 humpbacked and sleepy on one leg by 

 the side of their nests, the long fringe 

 of light-speckled neck feathers under- 

 neath looking like a long gray beard 

 sweeping over their recurved neck and 

 breast. There is a wise look about 

 them, too, for the black markings of the 

 head sweep back over the eye and pro- 

 long into the appearance of a qujU ex- 

 tending behind their ears. 



Though they are almost four feet 

 long and spread their wings to six feet 

 and over, the herons' large blue-grey 

 bodies are often almost indistinguish- 

 able from the bark of the cottonwood 

 branches and the blue of the sky 



