JANUARY 273 



the height of your head from the ground. 

 There lives the lace-bug; active in summer, 

 asleep in winter. 



This tiny creature is only about an eighth 

 of an inch long, and to the naked eye seems 

 simply white. But any ordinary magnify- 

 ing-glass will disclose its beauty. Two long 

 sheets of lace down the back form its wings. 

 Its neck is surrounded by an Elizabethan 

 ruff of lace. It wears a lace cap on its head. 

 If you admire lace gowns, here is a real one, 

 fresh from the hand of the great Weaver. 



One is at first inclined to wonder why so 

 small an insect should be so exquisitely 

 beautiful. Then we realize that uncon- 

 sciously we have measured by ourselves. 

 The lace-bug's mate doubtless finds him 

 just the size to suit her taste and has no 

 doubt as to the value of all this charm. 



To me it is a source of great satisfaction 

 to be able to turn up for my own delight so 

 beautiful an object to put under my pocket 

 lens. More than one winter day has shone 

 brighter for me because I lifted a fragment 

 of the bark of a sycamore tree. 



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