Bats and moths were flitting on silent wings among the trees, and there was a rustle of dry leaves, as unseen animals of the night moved in the undergrowth. Rube was up and moving about the camp at sunrise, and he had stirred up the smouldering fire and put a kettle and a dipper of water to boil before Kiddie crawled out of his sleeping bag. Kiddie's first occupation was to launch the canoe.
If any one wants to winter a pair of moths, they are reasonably sure of doing so by selecting the heaviest and lightest cocoons they can find. In the selection of cocoons, hold them to the ear, and with a quick motion reverse them end for end. If there is a dull, solid thump, the moth is alive, and will emerge all right.
It was six weeks since she saw him last! He must have ceased to think of her by this time! And, if he did think of her again, she would be far off, nobody knew where. Something struck the window with a slight, sharp clang. It was winter, and there were no moths or other insects flying, What could it be? She put her face close to the pane, and looked out.
At seven-thirty young girls fluttered in and out from the dining-room like brilliant night moths, the straight-front dowagers, U-vested spouses, and slim young men in braided trousers seams crowded about the desk for the influx of mail, and read their tailor and modiste duns with the rapt and misleading expression that suggested a love rune rather than a "Please remit."
With words of compliment and solicitation, the black-dressed assistant displayed the armouries of Venus armouries filled with the deep blue of midnight, with the faint tints of dawn, with strange flowers and birds, with moths, and moons, and stars.
"I made them myself and raised and mounted the moths." "Moth, you call it," said Mrs. Comstock. "I've seen a few of the things before." "They are numerous around us every June night, or at least they used to be," said Elnora. "I've sold hundreds of them, with butterflies, dragonflies, and other specimens.
She kissed him and went up-stairs, and still he lingered, watching the moonlight and the moths, and that unreality of colouring which steals along and stains a summer night. And he would have given anything to be back again in the past barely three months back; or away forward, years, in the future. The present with this dark cruelty of a decision, one way or the other, seemed impossible.
Dorothy was once more filled with the hope of getting home, and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were glad to be of use to her. As for the Lion, he sniffed the fresh air with delight and whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy at being in the country again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths and butterflies, barking merrily all the time.
They were soft, blind kisses, perfect in their stillness. Yet she held back from them. It was like strange moths, very soft and silent, settling on her from the darkness of her soul. She was uneasy. She drew away. 'Isn't somebody coming? she said. So they looked down the dark road, then set off again walking towards Beldover.
Moths are the ghosts of the insect world. It may be the manner in which they flutter in unheralded out of the night that terrifies us. They seem to tap against our lighted windows as though the outer darkness had a message for us. And their persistence helps to terrify. They are more troublesome than a subject nation. They are more importunate than the importunate widow.