WINDFALLS OF CORN 157 



'guffaw/ and said, "The old gentleman dreamt that 

 or maybe he read some fool story somewhere." 



Frank tied together all the stubble he had pulled 

 and split and started for home. When he was almost 

 in the center of the forest on the old trail he suddenly 

 stopped and said to himself: "I am calling these 

 bugs by the wrong name. I remember now in our 

 reader in school it says that young insects are larvae 

 and that the young of butterflies and moths are 

 called caterpillars. I recall that my teacher told us 

 not to call them worms. All right, I am glad that I 

 remembered that, and so I will call them .larvae or 

 caterpillars after this." 



When he returned he said to his father and uncle, 

 "I have the caterpillars, or worms, as Mr. Whitney 

 calls them. He was right so far, and I am going to 

 find out whether they will make candle-flies. I am 

 going to bury the roots of the stubble in that old 

 flower-bed and put a mosquito net over them so 

 that the chickens will not scratch them up." 



"I have a big box here with a wire screen on 

 it. I used to keep hens in it. You can turn that 

 over them; it beats mosquito netting," his uncle 

 said. 



"What are you going to do with them when we 

 go back home?" his father asked. 



"I will take them with me and bury them at 

 home," Frank replied. 



