CHAPTER XI.

_About Butterflies._

Our readers must not suppose that our little hero had no interest in anything but insects. It is true that his mind being once engaged upon this subject, his curiosity increased with his knowledge, and for a time he preferred the study of insects to that of anything else. At one period, as I have told you, he was greatly interested in beetles; then in spiders; and then in bees. Finally he turned his attention to butterflies. You may be tired of my story, but you must hear about this.

One beautiful summer day, he saw a large butterfly seated upon a flower――its wings were splendidly marked with figures of brown, black and gold. They were almost as large as the palm of his hand. As the insect sat upon the flower, he waved them up and down, seeming to fan the blossom upon which it was resting.

Jack’s first idea was to rush upon the butterfly, and seize it. But he had now acquired a habit of investigation. He had lost that instinct which leads little, thoughtless children to snatch at every new and pleasing object. He was no longer a mere child, but a thinking boy. His mind was awake, and the pleasure he derived from its exercise was a very great pleasure.

So Jack, having approached near to the butterfly, paused and examined it carefully. He found that it had four wings, two large and two small ones, and that it had six legs, four only of which seemed to be used.

While Jack was thus pursuing his observations, he gradually drew nearer, until the alarmed insect took to flight, and, with a wavering motion, swept across an adjacent meadow, until it was lost in the distance. As Jack was in the habit of thinking about what he had seen, he mused upon the little butterfly, and then he asked his Aunt Betsey about it. She was ever ready to gratify his curiosity, and so she proceeded to tell him about butterflies, pretty much as follows:

“You must know, my dear Jack,” said she, “that the family of butterflies is very numerous; this consists not only of those which pass under the name of butterfly, and which go abroad in the daylight, but of those which are called moths, and which fly about at night.

“The butterflies have ever been regarded as among the most beautiful objects in nature. They seem almost like flowers or gems, which have become endowed with life, and, taking wings, soar away upon the breeze. Thus the poet Moore speaks of them, as creatures

‘Which flutter round the jasmine stems, Like winged flowers, or flying gems.’

“Who, indeed, has not observed these little creatures flying from flower to flower, sipping the nectar from each, and seeming only to think of the present happy moment? And who has not thought how like to happy, heedless, children are these pretty butterflies?

“It is natural that the poets, who were always looking out for beautiful things, should seize upon such a subject as the butterflies, and we therefore find them often alluded to in poetry. Spencer, an old English poet, thus describes one of these insects,――and it is a very good description too:

‘The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, The silken down with which his back is dight, His broad, outstretched horns, his airy thighs, His glorious colors, and his glistening eyes.’

“The moths have also attracted the attention of the poet; and as they are dazzled by a lamp at night, and frequently fly into it and scorch themselves to death, they have been often compared to giddy youth, who rush thoughtlessly into dangerous pleasures, and are thus lost forever.

“The butterflies and moths have not only four wings and six legs, and two horns or feelers, but they have a little tube or proboscis, with which they suck in the juice of flowers. When this is not in use, it is nicely rolled up, and packed beneath the head of the animal, under a hairy cover made for the purpose.

“When examined with a glass, the body of the insect appears to be covered with hair, and the fine brilliant dust upon the wings is found to consist of minute scales.

“But the eyes of butterflies, are, perhaps, their most remarkable quality. Some of these are simple, while others are composed of a collection of magnifying lenses. It is said that in some butterflies the eye consists of sixteen thousand lenses. If so, it would seem that when a butterfly of this sort looks at a person, he sees sixteen thousand images of him! Of the butterfly tribe, some live upon the honey of flowers, others upon the leaves of plants, and others upon dead wood. Some of them subsist upon animal substances, and are very destructive to woollen cloths, furs and feathers. The honey-comb moth we have already mentioned as often infesting the bee-hive, and preying upon wax.

“While the butterflies, in their perfect state, have always attracted the attention and excited the interest of mankind, the wonderful steps by which they reach their perfect state have not formed a less interesting subject of observation. Most insects have three states of existence; they are first eggs, then worms, and then the winged and perfect insect.

“But the transformations of the butterfly have ever been regarded as very wonderful. The female deposits her eggs upon such plants as are proper to nourish the little caterpillars which are to proceed from them. The common white butterfly places hers upon cabbages. The tortoise-shell and peacock butterflies place theirs upon nettles, &c. These are generally attached by a kind of glue to the surface of the plant. The moths are usually more careful, for they generally deposit their eggs in some concealed place, and wrap them up carefully in a downy substance.

“Butterflies do not enshroud themselves in a silken case, or cocoon, spun from the mouth, as is done by many other insects; but their process is more wonderful. When the butterfly egg is hatched, it produces a caterpillar. This is a kind of heavy worm, usually furnished with sixteen feet.

“It grows rapidly after changing its skin, which process lasts three or four minutes, and frequently proves fatal. It is now furnished with twelve round eyes, and feeds voraciously upon leaves. Having reached its full size, it ceases to eat, and retires to some solitary place to undergo its wonderful transformation.

“Here it proceeds to form a mass of silken threads, which it spins from its mouth. This is attached to a proper place, and the caterpillar is soon seen suspended by the tail. It now raises its head a little, giving a curve to its back. This motion is repeated until a slit is formed, first behind the head, and then along the back. At length the skin of the larva disappears, and the chrysalis is formed. This consists of a smooth, shining mass, speckled with gold.

“The newly-formed chrysalis of a butterfly, when opened, is found to contain only a mass of pap, in which no trace of the limbs of the future butterfly can be observed, yet the outer covering is marked with all the external organs of the future butterfly in a very short time after the skin of the caterpillar has been cast off. On opening the chrysalis, indeed, after a proper space, we shall find, encased in separate parts, the wings, eyes and other organs of the future butterfly.

“When the insect has remained in this pulpy or chrysalis state for a proper time, a motion may be perceived within. The skin, which is now thin and dry, gives way, and bursting into four distinct and regular pieces, liberates its little prisoner. This now emits a reddish colored liquid, which superstitious people have called bloody rain; its wings rapidly assume their proper size, and it joins its companions in the air. The old poet Spencer thus happily describes the new-born insect:

‘When he arriving, round about doth fly From bed to bed, from one to other border; And takes survey, with curious, busy eye, Of every flower and herb there set in order; Now this, now that, he tasteth tenderly, Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder; Nor with his feet, their silken leaves deface, But pastures on the pleasures of each place.’”