WHAT AILS HIM?" 
245 
ered with its load of cocoons a fortnight ago, for 
in the morning, upon opening the box in which I 
had placed him, a number of tiny black flies flew 
out, and several of the white cocoons were open 
at the end, their dainty hinged lids thrown back. 
Here is one with its black midge just creeping 
out ; others with the tiny imp 
peeping through the fine crev- 
ice ; others with the lid still 
tightly closed, but with its junc- 
ture disclosing more distinctly 
every moment the knavery of 
the busy teeth within. One by one 
the silken lids popped up, and out 
flew the mischievous jack-in-the-box until 
within the space of a few hours every 
cocoon was empty. So this is " what 
ailed him." He has been the victim 
of the parasitic fly known as microgaster. 
But even now that his mortal enemies have 
left him, I fancy he is past encouragement or 
salvation. What will become of him? In his 
particular case he continued to dwindle and soon 
died, though in other instances I have known him 
to recover and reach the chrysalis stage, to com- 
plete his transformation into a beautiful olive and 
red sphinx-moth. 
