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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Moths of the Limberlost"


Pass after pass I made at them, but they always dived and escaped
me. At last, when I almost had given up the chase, one went nearly
from sight in a trumpet creeper. With a sweep the flower was
closed behind it, and I ran into the house crying that at last I
had caught a Lady Bird. Holding carefully, the trumpet was cut
open with a pin, and although the moth must have been slightly
pinched, and lacking in down when released, I clung to it until
my mother and every doubting member of my family was convinced that
this was no bird at all, for it lacked beak, tail, and feathers,
while it had six legs and four wings. Father was delighted that
I had learned something new, all by myself; but I really think
it slightly provoked my mother when thereafter I always refused
to call it a bird. This certainly was reprehensible. She should
have known all the time that it was a moth.
The other day a club woman of Chicago who never in her life has
considered money, who always has had unlimited opportunities for
culture both in America and Europe, who speaks half a dozen languages,
and has the care of but one child, came in her auto mobile to
investigate the Limberlost.


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