The Life of tVe Caterpillar 



ne "man sen sis. Though robbed of the inherit- 

 ance of the maternal manor, the grubs seem 

 very well satisfied with my bits. Without the 

 least hesitation, they scrape out of them a 

 superb white pith and make it into a delicious 

 cloak, much handsomer than that which they 

 would have obtained with the ruins of the 

 native house, this latter cloak being always 

 more or less flawed with darker materials, 

 whose colour has been impaired by long ex- 

 posure to the air. On the other hand, the 

 Nimes dandelion, a relic of last spring, has its 

 central part, which I myself lay bare, a spot- 

 less, white; and the cotton nightcap achieves 

 the very perfection of whiteness. 



I obtain an even better result with rounds 

 of sorghum-pith taken from the kitchen- 

 broom. This time, the work has glittering 

 crystalline points and looks like a thing built 

 of grains of sugar. It is my manufacturers' 

 masterpiece. 



These two successes authorize me to vary 

 the r aw material still further. In the absence 

 of new-born caterpillars, who are not always 

 at my disposal, I employ grubs which I have 

 undressed, that is to say, which I have taken 

 out of their caps. To these divested ones I 

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