Prev | Current Page 122 | Next

Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Moths of the Limberlost"

In one hand she held a shoe-box, having many rough
perforations. I always have been glad that my eyes softened at
the touch of pleading on her face, and a smile sprang in answer
to hers before I saw what she carried. For confession must be
made that a perforated box is a passport to my good graces any day.
The most wonderful things come from those that are brought to my
front door. Sometimes they contain a belated hummingbird, chilled
with the first heavy frost of autumn, or a wounded weasel caught
in a trap set for it near a chicken coop, or a family of baby
birds whose parents some vandal has killed. Again they carry a
sick or wounded bird that I am expected to doctor; and butterflies,
moths, insects, and caterpillars of every description.
"I guess I won't stop," said the woman in answer to my invitation
to enter the Cabin. "I found this creature on my front porch
early this morning, and I sort of wanted to know what it was, for
one thing, and I thought you might like to have it, for another.


Pages:
110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134