The Life of the Caterpillar 



will come. Ah, how well long practice has 

 taught me to know the trade, with all its wor- 

 ries and all its joys ! 



Behold me to-day the Providence of a thou- 

 sand nurselings thrust upon me by my studies. 

 I try a little of everything. The tender leaves 

 of the elm appear to suit. If I serve them up 

 one day, I find them next morning nibbled on 

 the surface, in small patches. Tiny grains of 

 impalpable black dust, scattered here and 

 there, tell me that the Intestines have been 

 at work. This gives me a moment of satis- 

 faction which will be readily understood by 

 any breeder of a herd whose diet is unknown. 

 The hope of success gains strength : I know 

 how to feed my vermin. Have I discovered 

 the best method at the first attempt? I dare 

 not think so. 



I continue therefore to vary the fare, but 

 the results hardly come up to my wishes. The 

 flock refuses my assorted green stuff and even 

 ends by taking a dislike to the elm-leaves. I 

 am beginning to believe that I have failed ut- 

 terly, when a happy Inspiration occurs to me. 

 I have recognized among the bits that go to 

 form the case a few fragments of the mouse- 

 ear hawkweed (Hieracium pilosella). So the 



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