46 WAYS OF THE SIX-FOOTED 



did his parent, on the tip of the leaf, leaving the mid- 

 rib for a perch during the day. But when he is about 

 one-third grown he commences to display a peculiar 

 interest in a certain, chosen leaf. He first fastens 

 the petiole to the branch by weaving around the two 

 many strands of silk ; this is to keep the leaf from 

 falling when assailed by the fierce winds of autumn. 

 He then proceeds to the tip of the leaf and gnaws it 

 off squarely across, leaving the midrib bare as usual; 

 he is a clever engineer and leaves just enough of the 

 leaf to suit his purpose. He folds the remaining por- 

 tion of the leaf into a tube and sews it with a neat 

 silken seam and then lines the tube luxuriously with 

 silk (Fig. 21, B). The little house thus made is just 

 large enough for the insect's body; and he crawls 

 into it, his warty last segment fitting nicely the orifice 

 and constituting a living door. The question at once 

 suggests itself, how does this larva know how to do 

 this thing? His parents did not do it, and if he 

 inherited the knowledge it must have been from his 

 grandparents. This is one of the inscrutable mysteries ; 

 and all we know about it is that during the warm days 

 of autumn, long before there is any hint of winter in 

 even the skies, this caterpillar, which never experienced 

 a winter and whose parents never experienced a winter, 

 builds himself this winter house and hides himself 



