I50 THE BROOK BOOK 



THE STORY 



Just before the leaves began to come out on 

 the twigs in the spring, while the buds were full 

 of life and vigor, there came to the clump of 

 willows a dozen little mothers. These slender crea- 

 tures were dressed in sober gray and flitted noise- 

 lessly about on two gauzy wings apiece. (I began 

 to recognize my mosquito-like friend.) Each little 

 gnat (gall-gnat, he called it) , had a sharp spear with 

 which she deftly cut a tiny gash right in the tip 

 end of the bud where it was all tender and juicy. 

 In the opening an egg was placed, and away went 

 the busy gnat to repeat the operation on another 

 twig. In a few days there hatched from each egg 

 a white grub, which was the baby gnat. (The 

 Entomologist said "the larval form" and I trans- 

 lated it for myself.) It seems that young gall-gnats 

 of this particular sort like tender willow wood to 

 eat, and that 



" Sweetness and light and good fresh air 

 Are things for which they do not care." 



They never venture out of their cells. They live 

 a most secluded life, none ever growing larger 

 than a grain of rice. By fall their appetites fail 

 them and they go to sleep in their narrow beds. 

 But all this time they have exerted a strange in- 

 fluence on the willow shoots. Instead of developing 

 into ordinary twigs, the buds which the little gnats 

 visited do not make branches at all ; at least, the 

 branches are so short and the leaves crowded 



