The Life of the Caterpillar 



her eggs. The nugget of her hind-quarters, 

 exfoliated spangle by spangle, will form a 

 roof for the germs arranged like the grain in 

 a corn-cob. 



I was anxious to watch the actual placing 

 of these pretty tiles, which are fixed at the 

 pale end with a speck of cement, leaving the 

 coloured end free. Circumstances did not 

 favour me. Inactive all day, motionless on 

 some needle of the lower branches, the Moth, 

 whose life is very short, moves only in the 

 darkness of the night. Both her mating 

 and egg-laying are nocturnal. On the 

 morrow, all is finished: the Bombyx has 

 lived. Under these conditions, it was 

 impossible, by the doubtful beams of a 

 lantern, to follow satisfactorily the labour 

 of the mother on the pine-trees in the 

 garden. 



I was no more fortunate with the captives 

 in my bell-glasses. A few did lay their eggs, 

 but always at a very advanced hour of the 

 night, an hour which found my vigilance at 

 fault. The light of a candle and eyes heavy 

 with sleep were of little avail when it came 

 to analysing the subtle operations of the 

 mother as she puts her scales in place. We 

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