The Chorus of the Forest 



beauty is the excuse for its being, in this book at 



least. Keally it seems as if that might be its best 



reason for appearing in the forest as well. 



The big delicate moth of deep wood must enter 



on the same ground, for no other among wood folk 



is so quiet. The only music it could be said to make The 



is the chorus of deliglited exclamation that oreets ^'^^^ "* 



■, r< 7 • '^ , the Moon 



its every ai)2)earance bet ore humanity; music by 



i:)roxy, as it were, for tlie moth is the stillest crea- 

 ture. The exercising imago, walled in its cocoon, 

 among the leaves of earth, makes more sound 

 than the emerged niotli. There is a faint noise of 

 tearing as the inner case is broken and tlie tough 

 cocoon cut for emergence. Once in the air and 

 light, if those exquisite wings make a sound it is 

 too faint for mortal ears to hear. 



June is tlie time for apjireciative people to sing 

 in praise of the moths, l)ut sometimes tliey are 

 double-brooded and si)ecimens exact their sliare of 

 w^orship in August, as did tlie beautiful pair I 

 found clinging to a walnut tree in the forest. Xo 

 other moth is so exquisitely shaped or of such deli- 

 cate shades. The female is a little larger, her an- 

 tenuEe are narrower, and her colors paler than the 

 male's. The white violet is not of purer white than 

 his body, his crisp, long-trailed wings of a bluish 

 jaale-green, faintly edged with light yellow and set 

 with small transparent markings, and his legs and 

 feet and the heavy fore-rib of the front wings are 



59 



