MOTHS OF THE LIMBERLOST 



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"Guilty!" he responded. "Name it. 



For one fleeting instant Molly-Cotton measured the 

 company. There was no one present who was not the 

 graduate of a commissioned high school. There were 

 girls who were students at The Castle, Smith, Vassar, and 

 Bryn Mawr. The host was a Cornell junior, and there 

 were men from Harvard and Yale. 



"It is an Eacles ImperiaKs lo Polyphemus Cecropia Re- 

 galis," she said. Then in breathless suspense she waited. 



"Shades of Homer!" cried the host. "Where did you 

 learn it.?" 



"They are flying all through the Cabin at home," she 

 replied. "There was a tumbler turned over their eggs 

 on the dining-room floor, and you dared not sit on the 

 right side of the library window seat because of them 

 when I left." 



"What do you want with their eggs.?" asked a girl. 



"Want to hatch their caterpillars, and raise them until 

 they transform into these moths," answered poor Molly- 

 Cotton, who had been taught to fear so few Uving things 

 that at the age of four she had carried a garter snake into 

 the house for a playmate. 



" Caterpillars ! " The chorus arose to a shriek. " Don't 

 they sting you? Don't they bite you?" 



"No, they don't!" replied Molly-Cotton. "They 

 don't bite anything except leaves; they are fine big fel- 

 lows; their colouring is exquisite; and they evolve these 



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