NOTES FROM MY OLD DIARY. 109 



past few days it has remained fixed to the corner of the 

 what-not in the parlor. Its wings are closed, and it has 

 apparently lost all its energy ; the light no longer 

 ■attracts it, the fine red pectinated antennae no longer 

 are moved as at first — the beautiful creature is dead, ox- 

 dying. 



On a minute inspection being made of the empty 

 cocoon, it seemed a mystery how the big, bulky insect 

 could have escaped from its prison. There was no 

 visible aperture for its exit save one small pipe terminat- 

 ing in a tiny orifice, through which it seemed impossible 

 that even the head of the creature could have issued. 

 Yet, this must have been its door of egress, for no other 

 was to be seen. 



Among the myriad marvels in Nature, there are no 

 greater than those found in the insect world. 



I was given two of the large brown cases of the 

 Orchard Moth last winter. I laid them aside in the 

 drawing-room and forgot all about them. One warm 

 May day, on going into the room, great was my surprise 

 and delight to see two beautiful creatures on the window 

 panes, enjoying the sunshine, and, I dare say, longing to 

 be out in the warm free air. 



By and by they became very restless, as if bewildered 

 by the novelty of their surroundings, flitting about on 

 the gay flowers of the curtains, and finally, after several 

 -day's had elapsed, one of the two deposited sixteen gold- 



