1895. 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



171 



but his clothes were covered with dust 

 aud his shoes with mud, suggesting that 

 he had beeu roamiug across lots iu the 

 rural wards. As the car approached and 

 passed Prospect park it filled up with 

 Sunday strollers. 



The youiig man sat beside the stove, 

 with his bag on his knees. After awhile 

 he opened the bag a trifle, shook it 

 gently and peered attentively inside. 

 Then he put his hand in and seemed to 

 be gently stirring up its contents. The 

 passengers sitting directly opposite to 

 him became interested in his doings, 

 but he didn't look up. After shaking 

 the bag from side to side for a little 

 while he bent over and became interest- 

 ed in some mysterious business which 

 for the rest of the trip absorbed his en- 

 tire attention and also that of his fellow 

 passengers. 



He reached down into the bag with 

 his right hand, lifted out something 

 carefully in the hollow of his palm, 

 weighed it carefully, held it to his ear, 

 shook it, held it to his ear again and 

 then decisively reached around and put 

 it into his overcoat pocket. Then he 

 reached into the bag again and went 

 through the same motions, except that 

 this time he placed the something care- 

 fully in one corner of the bag. First one 

 and then another of the passengers be- 

 came interested in the young man and 

 his performance until very soon every 

 one was peering closely, some almost 

 painfully, over at him and his bag. But 

 he never looked up. By and by the con- 

 ductor came in and walked nervously 

 the length of the car several times, peer- 

 ing into the young man's bag as he 

 passed. But the bag was open only a 

 trifle, and he could see nothing of its 

 contents. He went outside and discussed 

 the matter with a man who stood on 

 the platform 



The young man, intensely absorbed 

 in his performances and seemingly al- 

 together oblivious of the intense inter- 

 est of the other passengers in him, kept 

 steadily on, lifting out invisible some- 

 things, weighing them, listening to 

 them, shaking them and sorting them 

 over. Once in awhile he lifted out bits 

 of twigs and leaves and threw them on 

 the floor. The passengers eyed them 

 over attentively, but could make noth- 

 ing out of them. Soon thev beeau whis- 



pering uiii' .u a.io! iiiT alu'ut the myste- 

 rious doiut'-. 'jf the young man, and the 

 women moved nervously around, and 

 one or two men looked as though they 

 were determined to ask the young man 

 for an explanarion if he looked up. But 

 he didn't look up. Once iu awhile a 

 passenger got out and tried hard to peer 

 into the bag as he passed it, but useless- 

 ly. The situation was painful and was 

 also intensely comical to one passenger 

 who was almost as much interested in 

 watching the ill concealed curiosity and 

 strained nervousness of the passengers as 

 in trying to fathom the mystery of the 

 young man's performance. Probably if 

 it had beeu any other day than Sunday 

 some one would have plucked up cour- 

 age to ask a simple although maybe im- 

 pertinent question and so relieve the 

 general strain. But the restraint im- 

 posed by Sun lay clothes held every one 

 back. 



Finally when the car was entering 

 Fulton street, the young man suddenly 

 looked out of the window, closed the 

 bag with a nap and hurried out of the 

 car. There \pas a movement on the part 

 of the other passengers, partly of alarm 

 at the escape of the young man with 

 the mystery unsolved and partly perhaps 

 of relief at the end of the suspense. One 

 man made a quick jump after the mys- 

 terious young man and caught him for 

 a few seconds as he was about to leave 

 the car. 



"What've y' got? Whatcher doing?" 

 he asked, regardless of all proprieties. 



The young man looked surprised and 

 then smiled and said: 



"Oh, cocoons, chrysalides, moths, you 

 know. I've been gathering them out in 

 the country, and I sell them to the nat- 

 uralists. " Then he jumped off the car. 



The impulsive, inquisitive man re- 

 turned to his seat, and the remaining 

 passengers were eagerly waiting for 

 him. He explained that the young man 

 was a naturalist or naturalist's collector. 

 He evidently made a business of going 

 around the country hunting over the 

 fences and bushes for the chrysalides, or 

 pupae, of moths and butterflies. Some 

 of these are attached to fence pickets, 

 but perhaps the greater number are 

 found on leave or twig. They look like 

 balls of silk usually, but often are cover- 

 ed with dust, dead leaves and such mat- 

 ter. The collector simply gathered ev- 



