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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Well, and so he didn't want the other caterpillar to see the moth's wing, oo know so what must he do but try to carry it with all his left legs, and he tried to walk on the other set. Of course he toppled over after that." "After what?" I said, catching at the last word, for, to tell the truth, I hadn't been attending much.
One idea which occurred to me was to make it into the doorway of a cathedral or church, but I finally decided on the sketch of the moth's head. Underneath in my note-book I wrote the following words: "Head of Dula moth as seen through a magnifying glass. Caught 19.5.12. Magnified about six times size of life." Once I went "butterfly hunting" in Dalmatia.
The whole low-vaulted building glows duskily; the frescoed roof, the stained windows, the figure-crowded pavements blending their rich but subdued colours, like hues upon some marvellous moth's wings, or like a deep-toned rainbow mist discerned in twilight dreams, or like such tapestry as Eastern queens, in ancient days, wrought for the pavilion of an empress.
He would stop at nothing to attain that end; his avaricious mind, stimulated by Crane's promise, came at once to the disturbing element in the pleasant prospect, Shandy's report of Lucretia's good form. "Did you find out anything about Porter's mare Lucretia? I know White Moth's form; both fit and well. The Dutchman holds him safe over the Derby journey."
And I tell you, said the Maharajah, looking at Surji Rao fiercely with his sunken black eyes, 'not so much of his blood shall be shed as would stain a moth's wing. But Maun Rao struck, and the people being told that the missionary was dead, went home hoping that Krishna had nothing more against them; they had done what they could.
I should sing in a spirit purely academic, my song would be the utterance of a pious but hopeless longing, of the moth's desire for the star." "But she, I suppose, isn't a star," objected Maria Dolores. "She's probably just a weak human woman. You may have given her excuses without meaning to." There was the slightest quaver in her voice.
"One moment!" cried Dusty, as Freddie Firefly started to leave him. "Well what do you want now?" Freddie growled, flashing his light impatiently in Dusty Moth's eyes. "Are you sure she will let you take the picture?" Dusty asked him. "Yes! yes! Of course she will! Why shouldn't she, I should like to know? You certainly do ask the silliest questions!"
Marjorie's face was as white as a moth's wing when he was finishing, and her eyes like sunset pools; but she flamed up bright and rosy as he finished. "You kept silence!" she cried. "I did not wish to anger him, my dear; he is my father," he said gently. The colour died out of her face again and she nodded once or twice, and a great pensiveness came down on her.
There was elegy now in Kedzie's graces. Youth was of their essence, and youth shakes off like the dust on the moth's wing. Youth is gone at a touch. In her sorrow she turned to look up at Jim. She was shocked to see how attentively he regarded Kedzie. He startled her by the fascination in his mien. She looked again at Kedzie.
That moth's wings were so exactly the warm though delicate yellow of the flowers I loved, that as I looked at it I could feel my bare feet sinking in the damp ooze, smell the fragrance of the buttercups, and hear again the ripple of the water and the mating exultation of the brown thrush.
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