112 THE TREE BOOK 



its the -willow when the leaf buds are beginning 

 to unfold. She chooses the topmost bud on a 

 branch, pierces it with her beak, and thrusts in 

 a tiny egg. The warm sunshine soon coaxes 

 out a hungry little orange-colored grub, which 

 begins at once to feed upon the heart of the bud. 

 Surprised, and no doubt pained, the poor little 

 bud, instead of stretching out into a leafy spray, 

 swells into a knob, with broad, over-lapping 

 scales — sorry renainders, indeed, of the leaves 

 they were destined to be. Safely within the lit- 

 tle tiled house the grub lives a life of gluttony 

 tin the willow leaves begin to drop. Then it is 

 tired and sleepy and settles itself quietly to 

 pass into the chrysalis stage and wait for 

 spring. With the first warm, bright days, a 

 tiny airy-winged creature creeps forth from the 

 loosened end of the dry cone, and flits away with 

 its fellows to enjoy its brief span of life. 

 Shortly before their death the females lay their 

 eggs, and their life cycle is repeated in their off- 

 spring. 



Often the pine cone galls serve as tenement 

 houses for the larvae of spiders, katydids, and 

 others of the insect world. The little chambers 

 between the scales are their apartments, and 

 such delicious sap as the walls contain! Nor 

 do the claims of the tenants in any way conflict 



