148 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, 
[Apeji, 
ened to the wing at the other; some of the scales are 
narrow in proportion to their length, with straight sides, 
and these look something like a leather in shape, but 
have no plume or web like a feather, and are properly 
scales; they are supposed to be really hairs of a peculiar 
shape. If you examine a piece of the wing with a mag¬ 
nifier, the scales will be seen to over-lap one another 
very neatly, much as the shingles do upon a roof. You 
naturally would like to know the size of these scales: we 
have not just now any at hand that we can measure with 
the microscope, but some one has said that the wings of 
a silkworm butterfly, (or rather moth), have upon them 
over 400,000 of these scales. All the butterflies, the 
moths of all kinds, the skippers, and some others, from 
those so small that yon would hardly notice them, to the 
SCALES FROM DIFFERENT BUTTERFLIES. 
great Cecropia moth, the wings of which have a spread of 
six inches, have these scales, and naturalists put all 
these insects into one sub-order, and call itLepidoptera, a 
name that looks hard, but you will have less difficulty in 
recollecting it if you know it is made from the Greek 
words lepif, a scale, and pteron, a wing, and really means 
the scale-winged insects. The insects belonging to the 
Lepidoptera, are often very beautiful, especially some of 
the butterflies, with their brilliant and varied colors, but 
if the wings so brilliantly marked, were to have their 
scales brushed off, they would.loose all their beauty, for 
the colors are due to these minute, dust-like bodies. 
-—--- O --- 
Answers to IPiizzle E*ict«pi-es.—Those 
who have asked for answers to the puzzle pictures that 
have been given within a few months, will have found in 
the March number an answer to the two preceding ; the 
one in that number, “ A Farm Scene,” represents a farm¬ 
er, standing with his hands behind his back, looking 
abroad at his fields ;. his face is very plainly outlined by 
the twigs, at the white spot representing a cloud, direct¬ 
ly in the middle of the upper part of the picture; his 
body is not quite so plain as it might have been. 
l*yxitlaaail!la<>i*a »iu«I ©«gs. 
BY MRS. C. L. M., VINELAND, N. J. 
Young tolks, do not feel alarmed at the long word head¬ 
ing this article, you will find it quite easily pronounced, 
if you make the trial. What it has to do with dogs, may 
he more of a puzzle. Let me tell you something about 
it, then perhaps you will see the reasons. The botany 
Bays, Pyxidanthera is a “ small, prostrate, and creeping 
evergreen, etc., growing in New Jersey.” But as so few 
of the little folks who read these stories, live in New 
Jersey, I will add a trifle in the way of home-made 
description, for the benefit of those unlikely to make its 
acquaintance in any other way. 
Pyxidanthera resembles the pink Phlox, very common 
in gardens, and known in most places as “ Moss Pink,” 
a low spreading plant, blooming early in spring, forming 
a dense mat of small closely crowded flowers ; it is not, 
however, near as pretty or choice looking, the flowers 
are much larger, the petals more flimsy, the buds less 
striking, the foliage not as fine color, and the whole 
plants inferior in appearance to the little. Pyxidanthera, 
Its creeping matting habit, and profusion of flowers, are 
Its strong points of resemblance. 
Pyxidanthera (it is not common enough to have 
another name), comes into bloom with the first breath of 
spring, its multiplicity of buds responding so promptly 
to the warm air, that, like the Crocus, it seems not to 
consult the almanac, but to accept the first warm sun¬ 
shine as an invitation to unfold its waiting blossoms. 
The buds just before opening are exquisite. Their deep 
pink mites of heads, making beautiful contrast with the 
white flowers. It is often found in patches covering a 
square foot or more of surface, and growing as it. does in 
the wildest places, it presents one of the most attrac¬ 
tive natural productions of the floral kingdom. 
Now for the dog part of the story: A friend presented 
me with a young black-and-tan specimen of caninity, 
weighing six ounces. Though so small an affair in size, 
he soom became a great favorite, and the selection of a 
name, suited to his proportions and prospective perfec¬ 
tions, became a matter of grave study. Dot, Pet, Pink, 
and Carl, with many others, were talked of and passed 
as unsuitable. Some were not pleasant sounding, and 
others were a letter or two too long, four being the limit 
as to number. Application was made to a French 
scholar for help out of the dilemma, without any satis¬ 
factory results. I think you will laugh, but the difficulty 
was settled by naming him Pyxidanthera. We call him 
Pyx, “ for short,” Pixie, for petting, and Dan for reproof. 
The latter, accompanied by a stamp of the foot, when 
he misbehaves himself, is impressive and effectual. 
Would you believe it ? he has grown, despite his long 
name, until he weighs a pound and three-quarters, and 
is the jolliest little fellow imaginable. lie is also very 
brave in a small way, catching and killing mice with 
true terrier ability. To be sure, we have to trap them 
first, and only give little Pyx the small ones to catch. 
I will tell you an incident in regard 
to Pyx, that may give some of you a 
new idea in natural history. If it 
should happen, however, that none of 
you are as ignorant as I was, then you 
will have an opportunity of learning 
how uncomfortable a lack of knowledge 
in natural laws may make us. I had 
been but a few days the proprietor of 
this diminutive terrier, when I took 
occasion to give him a careful looking 
over through my spectacles, and dis¬ 
covered, to my great affliction, that 
the little fellow had no ears 1 I do not 
mean that there was no external 
appendage bearing that name, but that there was no 
orifice or cavity beneath it. 
I have the habit of being easily discouraged, and 
“ meeting trouble half way,” so I made some characteris¬ 
tic remarks, to the effect that it was “ just my luck,” and 
began to think of having the existence of the unfortunate 
little puppy curtailed at once. I knew that the eyes 
would open all right, I had learned that blindness was 
common to many young animals, but no ears—that was 
beyond my comprehension, and it was only in considera¬ 
tion of the mother’s loneliness, that he was not put out 
of the way immediately. In a few days, however, in 
answer to an inquiry if any thing could be done to 
remedy the defect, a dog-fancier communicated the fact 
that all young dogs were deaf as well as blind, and that in 
the course of eighteen or twenty days the difficulty would 
disappear naturally. It is humiliating sometimes to 
learn one’s ignorance, but in this instance I felt only too 
happy to be proved an ignoramus. 
--— ---o«t—-- -■ 
A.unit Sale’s Clints. 
Odd Letters. —I wish you could see a few of the 
curious letters I receive ; they would furnish you with 
more amusemeht than some of the puzzles. A postal- 
card lies before me now, (from Virginia,) addressed— 
very properly—to “ Aunt Sue, Box 111, P. O., Brooklyn, 
N. Y.,” so that it comes to me very directly; but it be¬ 
gins—“ Dear Sir”—(why Dear Sir to Aunt Sue ?) “ Pleas 
to send me your communications for the puzzle box and 
list of perticlars and circles &c. add. to John-.” 
Now, if some of my young friends will be kind enough 
to enlighten me as to what John wants, I might be tempt¬ 
ed to send it to him, if he had had the grace to send me 
a postage-stamp wherewith to prepay my answer; but he 
did not, and so I am afraid my good nature will not be 
equal to the demand upon it. What do you suppose he 
means by “ perticlars and circles ” 1 ? 
Strange Pets.— Maggie asks if “anybody ever did 
make a pet of a spider.”—I never did, Maggie ; I have no 
affection for them, and generally give them a wide berth ; 
although I can not deny that of a summer’s evening I have 
often paused in my walk to watch the skillful weaver at 
his work; but I have heard that there is in the West 
Indies a large formidable kind of spider, of which a pet is 
made by some of the islanders ; they respect it as a sacred 
creature, by no means to be hurt or disturbed; but I 
rather think that their affection for the “ beastie ” grows 
out of the fact that it delivers them from cockroaches, 
with which, but for him, their houses would be over-run. 
Postal-Cards.— F. M. G. You can judge whether 
“postal-cards are much used” when I tell you that dur¬ 
ing the first year of their introduction into this country 
112,043,500 were sold. They arc made at Springfield, and 
three thousand pounds of paper are consumed daily at 
the manufactory, to turn out about 700,000 cards. 
Dun. —Charlie F. wants to know the origin of this 
word. In the time of King Henry VIII of England, 
there was a bailiff by the name of Joe Dunn, who was 
very successful in collecting doubtful debts. When every 
other resort had failed with debtors, creditors would 
threaten to send Dunn after them ; until the name be¬ 
came a by-word. 
E. S. B.—In “alphabetical arithmetic” letters are used 
instead of figures ; ten different letters for ten different 
figures. For instance you select the words “black 
horse ” to represent your digits ; so B would represent 1, 
L, 2, A, 3, C, 4, O, 7, and so on. Now construct your 
sum, substitute letters for figures, and you have a speci¬ 
men of Alphabetical Arithmetic. 
Herbert F. Y.—No, it is not “ humbug” that “large 
newspapers make good coverlids in winter,” they are 
quite effectual in excluding the cold air, and preserving 
the warmth of the body in the bed. 
'JTSie Alarm. 
BY MRS. S. A. N. 
o 
“ Oh ! Bridget, don’t talk any more about burglars, or 
you’ll make me nervous.” 
“ Well, Miss Mary, Tim was here this afternoon, and 
he was telling me how they was goin’ around murderin’ 
all the women and children, and I can’t get it out of my 
head. I wish master hadn’t gone away, or that some of 
the gentlemen had come up from the village to stay here 
to-night.” 
“ Well now you go to bed Bridget, and don’t let Harry 
hear you talking about thieves and robbers • where is 
the boy ? ” 
“ He went to bed half an hour ago ; but he’d be no use 
if any of the villains did try to break in.” 
“ Why Bridget, I don’t think you need feel uneasy 
about them ; burglars generally make their plans to rob 
houses where they know they will get the most “ plun¬ 
der,” and we haven’t got much to steal now ; since the 
sneak-thief ran off with our silver in town, father has 
had nothing but plated-ware, and I guess the thieves 
know all about that as well as we do; and I don’t think 
my few bits of jewelry would tempt them. But don’t 
talk about them any more.” 
“Well, I won’t, Miss Mary, but for the life of me, I 
can’t help thinking of the murderin’ villains,” and 
Bridget left the room. 
This conversation occurred in a neat little residence 
near the banks of the Hudson River, which Mr. Blakely, 
Mary’s father, had taken for the summer. He was 
engaged in business in New York, whither he went 
every morning, returning in the evening to his country 
house. But this evening he was unavoidably detained 
in the city, and the remainder of his family, Mary and 
Harry, with their one servant, Bridget, were left alone for 
the first time since they left town. 
The newspapers had been full of frightful tales of 
masked burglars, and as the sun went down, and the 
various sounds of life, heard even in the country, became 
hushed, all but the night-birds, the frogs, and the 
crickets, Bridget began to get fidgety, made various 
excuses to go into the little parlor and say a few words 
to Miss Mary, who sat at the window which opened on to 
a piazza, idly watching the deepening shadows, and, if 
the truth must be told, thinking of a certain Charlie who 
had gone abroad with his family, and who used to write 
home twice a week at first, but now it was a whole 
month since he had written a line. 
Bridget had at length gone to her room, and Mary went 
round to all the windows and doors, to see that they were 
securely fastened. A little piece of mortar fell down the 
chimney, which made her start and turn pale, then she 
laughed, but wished Bridget wouldn’t talk so much about 
burglars; and hurrying to her room she shut the door 
and bolted herself in. She would fain have shut and 
fastened the window, but being a warm night in July, 
that wasn’t to be thought of. And what a lovely night 
it was, except just where she ought to have seen the 
comet, and of course it was cloudy there. So thinking 
of burglars, and Charlie, and the comet, she undressed 
slowly, and it was pretty late before sleep came and kiss¬ 
ed her eyelids. 
How long she had been asleep she didn’t know, when 
she started up in alarm at an unusual noise outside; 
something or somebody was certainly stirring on the 
piazza. Her heart beat violently, and the perspiration 
stood in beads on her forehead. Notwithstanding the 
conversation of the evening before, she had provided 
herself with no weapon of any kind. She stole out of 
bed in fear and trembling, crept to the window, and 
peered out into the darkness. Her window was just 
round the corner from the piazza, but Bridget’s room 
commanded a view of it; did she dare to cross the hall? 
Should she call Bridget or Harry ? She listened again at 
the window, yes, she was sure she heard some one mov¬ 
ing by the parlor window! Hastily slipping a shawl 
around her she flew to Bridget’s room. Bridget thought 
her time had come 1 and sitting up in bed began to 
shriek “murder,” when Mary hastily placing her hand 
over her mouth, whispered earnestly, “ It is I, Bridget,— 
Mary—hush-sh-h, I want to tell you something, don’t 
make a noise or you will wake Harry.” 
“ Oh 1 laws, Miss Mary, how you did scare me 1 I 
thought certainly-” 
“ Sli-h, Bridget, don’t you be frightened because I am, 
but I really do think some one is trying to get in at the 
