TURTLE-HEAD AND JEWEL-WEED 135 



caterpillars will feed on the leaves till winter, 

 then by some witchery of nature survive the frost 

 and snow and zero weather, sheltered only by 

 this filmy, flimsy home, finish their growth in the 

 spring, waxing fat on the young leaves and by 

 late May be floating about, more Baltimore 

 butterflies. 



There can be no better evidence of the witchery 

 and romance of the place than this, that these 

 frail pulpy creatures should with no covering 

 worth the name withstand cold that under similar 

 conditions would kill me before Christmas time. 

 When I think of this dreams of dryads that troop 

 down from the hillsides and stand, slender and 

 adorable jewel-weeds, where the cool springs 

 ooze from beneath the gravelly hill, do not seem 

 in the least absurd or improbable. 



