THROUGH LEAFY PATHS. 45 



pillars trimmed with vines and perfumed with 

 the incense of mint and balm ; where the flies are 

 trying their tuning-forks, the bees are humming 

 busy, contented airs, and the gay butterflies are 

 zigzagging with noiseless wings through the leafy 

 ways. Here are rocks and fallen trunks for pews, 

 softly cushioned with mosses, lichens and liver- 

 worts. Who has ever seen richer or mOre beauti- 

 ful upholstery.' 



If the worshiper is observing, he will find 

 many of the leaves are real folios on which are 

 nicely mounted many a curious little knob, rosette 

 and spangle, which are prepared by the sylphs 

 and gnomes of the woods. Perchance he may 

 read a most interesting page on caterpillar weav- 

 ing, with a living, moving illustration before his 

 eyes. A naked larva has feasted well on the 

 green pulp and now, as it feels the pupal sleep 

 approaching, is busy in making its bed. Through 

 the fine, transparent web the little worker regu- 

 larly moves to and fro, its magic shuttles drawing 

 out and fastening to the leaf yards of the delicate 

 silken thread, as white and as lustrous as new 

 silver. 



Everywhere are seen grayish-white blotches 

 and crooked trails, on the oak leaves, that are 

 quite conspicuous objects against a dark -green 

 background. These are made by a tiny leaf 

 miner, the larva of a delicate little "Micro," 



