As soon as they were out of the shells, they began eating the celery, and grew so fast that in a week they were quite large worms.
They were covered with green rings and black rings dotted with yellow. They each had sixteen short legs, and they had a flesh-colored, Y-shaped horn hidden away under a ring above the head, that they would show when they were disturbed.
One morning the gardener discovered that something was eating his celery. Searching among the leaves he found all but one of the little worms, and put them where they could do no more mischief.
Soon the little worm that had escaped his notice, had grown so fat that he was too stupid to eat any more; so he crawled away to a dark place on the fence and fastened himself there.
But first he covered a small spot of the fence with a white, silken carpet, that he wove from a web which he drew from his under lip.
He then glued the end of a web to the carpet, carried the rest of it up over his breast, and down on the other side and fastened it there.
He then bent his head down under it, letting it pass over his head, and by bending forward and backward worked it down near the middle of his back. After inspecting his work, he bent his head upon his breast, and leaned against the fence.
After resting two days, he began a series of twistings and turnings that burst open his skin from the corners of his mouth down a short way, and worked it all off himself.
He drew his head in out of sight, and sent out a stubbed horn on each side of it, and lo! no worm was to be seen!—but a chrysalis, like the one his mother was sleeping in when we first found her.