THE CADDIS FLY 57 



and little shells; another utilises dead leaves, and 

 several seem to be very fond of ornamenting the 

 front door with a shell of some small Fresh-water 

 mollusc. 



By thrusting the head and legs out of the case, 

 this tiny creature is able to move along, but when 

 the time comes for it to pass into a chrysalis, it 

 closes the front door and sleeps. 



Secure inside the chamber, naught disturbs the 

 little slumberer. The river rushes on towards the 

 I sea in a scamper; it has no time to stay and 

 caress the blue Forget-me-nots, nor the flaring 

 purple of the sentinel-like Loosestrife, nor the 

 Brooklime, nor the aromatic Water-mint; and 

 the river disturbs not the pupa of the Caddis Fly, 

 which has attached itself to an old post, stick, 

 stone, or other anchorage. There it rests, and 

 inside the chamber a great change is taking place, 

 slowly but surely, until at last, the great deed 

 accomplished, the insect slumberer comes forth 

 triumphant as the perfect Caddis Fly, a testimony 

 to the interesting story it has so wonderfully re- 

 vealed. And do you wonder that, knowing this, 

 I fish no more ? 



One more little incident that came to my notice 

 not long since may also interest you before I bring 

 this chapter to a close. It tells of a little drop of 

 water I once saw. Here is the] story taken direct 

 from my Nature notebook. 



