The Psyches: the Laying 



olive-trees, holm-oaks, elms or almost any 

 other. His case, a modest little bundle, is 

 hardly more than two-fifths of an inch in 

 length. A dozen rotten straws, gleaned at 

 random and fixed close to one another in a 

 parallel direction, represent, with the silk 

 sheath, his whole outlay on dress. It would 

 be difficult to clothe one's self more eco- 

 nomically. 



This pigmy, apparently so uninteresting, 

 shall supply us with our first records of the 

 curious life-story of the Psyches. I gather 

 him in profusion in April and instal him in 

 a wire bell-jar. What he eats I know not. 

 My ignorance would be grievous under other 

 conditions; but at present I need not trouble 

 about provisions. Taken from their walls 

 and trees, where they had suspended them- 

 selves for their transformation, most of my 

 little Psyches are in the chrysalis state. A 

 few of them are still active. They hasten to 

 clamber to the top of the trellis-work: they 

 fix themselves there perpendicularly by means 

 of a little silk cushion; then everything is still. 



June comes to an end; and the male Moths 

 are hatched, leaving the chrysalid wrapper 

 half caught in the case, which remains fixed 



