THE PSYCHES 65 



near the houses. His case surpasses that of the first species, 

 both in size and in regularity of arrangement. It forms a 

 thick coverlet of many pieces, in which I recognise frag- 

 ments of hollow stalks, bits of fine straw, and perhaps blades 

 of grass. In front there is never any flounce of dead leaves, 

 a troublesome piece of finery which is pretty frequent, though 

 not always used, in the costume of the first species I described. 

 At the back there is no long projection beyond the outer 

 covering. Save for the indispensable collar at the neck, 

 the whole Caterpillar is cased in sticks. There is not much 

 variety about the thing, but, when all is said, there is a certain 

 beauty in its stern faultlessness. 



There is a smaller and more simply dressed Psyche who 

 is very common at the end of winter on the walls, as well as 

 in the bark of gnarled old trees, whether olive-trees or elms, 

 or indeed almost any other. His case, a modest little bundle, 

 is hardly more than two-fifths of an inch in length. A dozen 

 rotten straws, picked up at random and fixed close to one 

 another in a parallel direction, represent, with the silk sheath, 

 his whole outlay on dress. 



It would be difficult to clothe oneself more economically. 



II 



A DEVOTED MOTHER 



If I gather a number of little Psyches in April and place 

 them in a wire bell-jar, I can find out more about them. 

 Most of them are in the chrysalis state, waiting to be turned 

 into Moths, but a few are still active and clamber to the top 

 of the wire trellis. There they fix themselves by means of 

 a little silk cushion, and both they and I must wait for weeks 

 before anything further happens. 



At the end of June the male Psyche comes out of his case, 

 no longer a Caterpillar, but a Moth. The case, or bundle 

 of sticks, you will remember, had two openings, one in front 



