The Life of Jean Henri I abre 



face that doesn't get washed every clay, hare feet 

 and a pair of tattered breeches held up by a bit 

 of string, a boy who comes regularly to supply 

 the house with turnips and tomatoes, arrives one 

 morning carrying his basket of vegetables. After 

 the few sous due to his mother for the greens 

 have been counted one by one into his hand, he 

 produces from his pocket something w r hich he found 

 the day before, beside a hedge, while picking grass 

 for the rabbits: 



"And what about this?' he asks, holding the 

 thing out to me. "What about this? Will you 

 have it? " 



" Yes, certainly, I'll have it. Try and find me 

 some more, as many as you can, and I'll promise 

 you plenty of rides on the roundabout on Sun- 

 day. Meanwhile, my lad, here's a penny for you. 

 Don't make a mistake when you give in your ac- 

 counts; put it somewhere where you won't mix it 

 up with the turnip-money." * 



The precious discovery was none other 

 than the cocoon from which would presently 

 emerge the desired Moth, vainly sought after 

 during twenty years' residence in Serignan. 



Of all children Fabre must have had a 

 weakness for the most rustic specimens; for 

 those who, by virtue of their situation and 

 by inclination, lived more nearly in contact 



1 Souvenirs, vii, 360. 



266 



