178 
COTTON 
The cotton crop is ripe and harvested — or what 
is left of it after the weevil has done his work is 
harvested. He still stays with the cotton plant un- 
til late in December, or as long as any portion of 
the plant is green. 
Winter approaches now, and a winter home is 
needed. Where shall he go? He does not like 
cold, and thousands and thousands of his fellows 
perish each year; but there are many places of pro- 
tection on the average cotton farm; the open bolls, 
grass and weeds, brush and rubbish; even leaves 
in the ground furnish a home and warmth. Here 
he stays with all his fellows, silent and asleep, until 
spring comes again. The warm days of rejuvena- 
tion go on. The buds on tree and grass stalk 
crack and burst in their joy, and perhaps awake the 
sleeping beetle, which is now attracted by the 
joyful sounds, and proceeds to take breakfast with 
the happy hosts. 
When cotton has grown so large that squares 
are made, the enemy appears, looking altogether 
harmless, few in numbers, and exceptionally gay. 
Soon the female begins to lay eggs. At first her nests 
are many and she puts but one egg to the square. 
By and by, as the number of females increases, and 
the squares become fewer in number, more nests 
must be found. The boll seems to serve the pur- 
pose well. But the shell is hard. So much the 
better; it will be safer there. Wise little mother 
beetle! she will find a way. And she does, for that 
snout seems especially built for digging and eating. 
The opening made, the egg is inserted, and the open- 
ing closed. Too precious to the little mother is that 
egg and the life within it for her not to exercise 
care, that it may not be disturbed or destroyed. 
She knows in some way, in some manner, and with 
