The Cabbage-caterpillar 



the tube and the plug of cotton-wool that 

 closes the end turned to the light; but the 

 lower halves remain free and form a circular 

 gallery in front of which the males hustle one 

 another, take one another's places and hastily 

 operate. Each bides his turn, each attends to 

 his little matters for a few moments and then 

 makes way for his rivals and goes off to start 

 again elsewhere. The turbulent wedding lasts 

 all the morning and begins afresh next day, a 

 mighty throng of couples embracing, separa- 

 ting and embracing once more. 



There is every reason to believe that, in 

 gardens, the mated ones, finding themselves In 

 isolated couples, would keep quieter. Here, 

 in the tube, things degenerate into a riot be- 

 cause the assembly is too numerous for the 

 narrow space. 



What is lacking to complete its happiness? 

 Apparently, a little food, a few sugary mouth- 

 fuls extracted from the flowers. I serve up 

 some provisions in the tubes: not drops of 

 honey, in which the puny creatures would get 

 stuck, but little strips of paper spread with 

 that dainty. They come to them, take their 

 stand on them and refresh themselves. The 

 fare appears to agree with them. With this 



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