By the closest examination I could discover slight difference
between them. The one on the right was a trifle fuller in the body,
wider at the top, a shade lighter in colour, and the inner case
seemed heavier.
All winter those cocoons occupied the place of state in my collection.
Every few days I tried them to see if they gave the solid thump
indicating healthy pupae, and listened to learn if they were moving.
By May they were under constant surveillance. On the fourteenth I
was called from home a few hours to attend the funeral of a friend.
I think nothing short of a funeral would have taken me, for the moth
from a single cocoon had emerged on the eleventh. I hurried home
near noon, only to find that I was late, for one was out, and the
top of the other cocoon heaving with the movements of the second.
The moth that had escaped was a male. It clung to the side of the
board, wings limp, its abdomen damp. The opening from which it
came was so covered with terra cotta coloured down that I thought
at first it must have disfigured itself; but full development
proved it could spare that much and yet appear all right.
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