There must be a self-satisfied
smile on the face of the man in the moon, in whose honour these
delicate creatures are named, when on fragile wing they hover above
his mirrored reflection; for of all the beauties of a June night
in the forest, these moths are most truly his.
In August of the same year, while driving on a corduroy road in
Michigan, I espied a Luna moth on the trunk of a walnut tree close
the road. The cold damp location must account for this late
emergence; for subsequent events proved that others of the family
were as slow in appearing. A storm of protest arose, when I stopped
the carriage and started to enter the swamp. The remaining occupants
put in their time telling blood-curdling experiences with `massaugers,'
that infested those marshes; and while I bent grasses and cattails
to make the best footing as I worked my way toward the moth, I
could hear a mixed chorus "brought up thirteen in the dredge at the
cement factory the other day," "killed nine in a hayfield below
the cemetery," "saw a buster crossing the road before me, and my
horse almost plunged into the swamp," "died of a bite from one
that struck him while fixing a loose board in his front walk.
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