144 THE CANADIAN HORTICULTUHlSt. 



nor feet with which to walk. To all outward seeming it will have 

 ceased to live; cold, and stiff, and motionless, it will manifest no sense 

 of feeling whatever, nor any symptom of life. 



Having found a place suitable for t)ie metamorphose about to take 

 place, which will always be the underside of some convenient support, 

 the caterpillar proceeds to cover a considerable space, a diameter of 

 three or four inches, with fine, white, silken threads, which it spins 

 from its mouth, or from spiiinarets placed at the mouth. These silken 

 threads are laid on thicker and thicker towards the centre of the 

 chosen spot, and at the centre a small pointed knob is raised of the 

 same material. All this is done in order that the creature may suspend 

 itself, head downwards, and hang securely by this silken knob without 

 danger of being torn by its weight from its fastenings. Having com- 

 pleted all these arrangements, it proceeds to suspend itself by fastening 

 the hooks on the pair of feet upon the last or anal segment into the silken 

 knob, and when these are secured lets go its hold of the silken carpet 

 with all the other feet and hangs suspended in mid-air, from the under- 

 side of some fence rail, or horizontal bar, or if in confinement, from the 

 lid of the box or ceiling of the room. 



What strange spell is upon the creature that it leaves its food> 

 which a short time ago was all its desire, and travels off in search of 

 some hidden retreat, some lonely nook ? And why is it now travelling 

 round and round within the circumference of a few inches upon the 

 ceiling, laying down so carefully such a network of silken threads ? 

 Who has told it to lay them down increasing in thickness from the 

 circumference to the centre ? And now it has ceased to travel about, 

 and has stationed itself with its head in the centre of its silken carpet ; 

 if you will' watch it closely, you will see that it is yet spinning, and 

 now and then it moves its head to the right and left, about as far as it 

 can conveniently reach. J^s you look you see a little projection is being 

 built up directly under its head, and that these motions to the right 

 and left are made in the act of laying down some anchoring cables that 

 shall fasten it securely to the web or carpet it has fastened upon the 

 ceiling. What schoolmaster taught it that a cone is the strongest 

 form in which it can arrange its gossamer threads ? And who told it 

 to go and hang itself thereby, suspended from its hindermost feet ? 

 Does it know the future that is before it; the life that lies beyond this 

 gateway of seeming death ? (Continued in next No.) 



