WHAT AILS HIM?" 



241 



how many before him have marvelled at that 

 strange exhibition among the woodbine leaves 

 which had now probably met his eyes for the first 

 time ? In another moment he was at the piazza 

 stoop, and now he appears at the studio door. 

 Eager anticipation and shortness of breath were 

 equally manifest as he approached my easel and, 

 with his right hand still out- 

 stretched towards me, 

 exclaimed, " W T ell, 

 what ails him ?" 



at the same 

 time laying down 

 before me the mys- 

 terious specimen. It 

 was a leaf of the woodbine, 

 bearing along its stem a cylindrical mass of what 

 appeared to be tiny, oblong, white eggs, all set on 

 end, and so densely packed that but for the head 

 and tail of the shrunken, green caterpillar which 

 appeared at the two extremities of the mass no 

 one would have guessed their origin. " What 

 ails him ?" 



" I was sitting on my porch," continued my puz- 



