THE EVENING PRIMROSE 
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of its abnormal shape " the worm i' the bud," as 
shown in my accompanying sketch and what 
an eloquent story of blighted hopes its interior 
condition reveals ! This tiny whitish caterpillar 
which we disclose in the petal dungeon has been 
a prisoner since its birth, during the early growth 
of the bud. One by one 
the stamens and also 
the stigma have been 
devoured for food, until 
the mere vestiges of 
them now remain. With 
no stamens to bequeath 
pollen, and no stigma to 
welcome other pollen, 
what need to open ? 
What need to elongate 
a corolla tube for the 
tongue of a moth whose 
visit could render no functional service ? So 
thus our blighted buds refuse to open, where 
blooming would be but a mockery. This tiny 
caterpillar has a host of evening primrose blos- 
soms laid to his door. When full grown he is 
nearly a third of an inch in length, at which 
time he concludes to leave his life -long abode, 
which explains the " hole " through the base of 
the bud. If we gather a few of these buds 
and place them in a small box, we may observe 
