26 Dark Days of Insect Life [FOURTH WEEK 



spadeful of leaf -mould. Examine it carefully with hand- 

 lens and microscope, and then prophesy what warmth and 

 light will bring forth. Watch the unfolding life of plant 

 and animal, and then come from your planet-yearning 

 back to earth, with a humbleness born of a realisation 

 of our vast ignorance of the commonest things about us. 



Though the immediate mysteries of the seed and the 

 egg baffle us, yet the most casual lover of God's out-of- 

 doors may hopefully attempt to solve the question of some 

 of the winter homes of insects. Think of the thousands 

 upon thousands of eggs and pupae which are hidden in 

 every grove; what catacombs of bug mummies yonder log 

 conceals, mummies whose resurrection will be brought 

 about by the alchemy of thawing sunbeams. Follow out 

 the suggestion hinted at above and place a handkerchief 

 full of frozen mould or decayed wood in a white dish, and 

 the tiny universe which will gradually unfold before you 

 will provide many hours of interest. But remember your 

 responsibilities in so doing, and do not let the tiny plant 

 germs languish and die for want of water, or the feeble, 

 newly-hatched insects perish from cold or lack a bit of 

 scraped meat. 



Cocoons are another never-ending source of delight. 

 If you think that there are no unsolved problems of the 

 commonest insect life around us, say why it is that the 

 moths and millers pass the winter wrapped in swaddling 

 clothes of densest textures, roll upon roll of silken coverlets ; 

 while our delicate butterflies hang uncovered, suspended 

 only by a single loop of silk, exposed to the cold blast of 

 every northern gale? Why do the caterpillars of our 



