Our first letter this week comes from a young lady who writes to the Natural History Society. All the way from Japan came a letter from a bright boy describing the Feast of Lanterns in his far-off home. We think the same boy, if he would, could tell us something about mission work in Nagasaki. Every letter we print is interesting, and we are very sorry that you can not enjoy the letters we have had to keep to ourselves. We are glad that so many of you like Our Post-office Box.
Watertown, New York.
Good-morning, boys and girls! How are you progressing with your studies in natural history? Have you been successful in finding facts for your societies, and securing specimens for their collections? No doubt those who spent vacation away from home brought back many trophies which will be greatly valued. Have you added some of them to a cabinet where all the members of your society can enjoy them? Those of you who have staid at home, plodding on in the same old paths, have you noticed anything wonderful there? Surely there is no place where God is not, and where His works may not be studied. Sometimes children make fine and well-arranged collections not only of flowers, but of leaves, ferns, and mosses, some varieties of which can be obtained in all parts of our country.
One branch of natural history which is full of instruction is often neglected. I refer to the study of insects. Not only may butterflies and moths lay claim to beauty, but many beetles, flies, spiders, and worms. "Ugh!" says some little girl—"spiders and worms! The horrid things! Who ever heard of their being beautiful?" Little sister, have you been walking all this time with your eyes shut, so that you have not seen their velvet coats of many colors, ringed, streaked, and speckled? If you would but stop and watch them in the trades they follow and the houses they build, instead of running with fright or turning away in disgust, you would find them more interesting than you now imagine they can be.
I have a friend who has for a few months past been studying entomology. She has used her fernery, covering the top with mosquito bar, as a cage for worms, and there we have fed them with the leaves of the plants on which they were found, and have been quite delighted with their transformations. She had two green ones, with black bands running around them, dotted with orange. They were found on celery. We watched one hang itself to a piece of apple-tree branch put in for that purpose; saw it spin a small, thick patch of web, hook its hind-feet into it, then pull with all its might, apparently to see if the web was strong. After that it spun a silken cord for its back, attaching the ends to the bark, holding up its fore-feet and passing it back and forth over them to make it long enough. It then passed its head through the loop so made, and wriggled itself in. In about thirty-six hours the skin split on the back, and it slipped it off, unhooking its tail, and hooking it into the web again; and after repeating the operation of pulling, the little creature settled down for a long nap. As the skin came off, he looked like an entirely different fellow, both in shape and color. He is now a chrysalis, without legs or a distinctly defined head; in color, light gray, with brown stripes running lengthwise; there is also a delicate trace of wings. We are now looking for his last change, which will be to a dark swallow-tailed butterfly, spotted with yellow, blue, and orange.
All parts of the cabbage butterfly, even its eyes, can be clearly traced in the chrysalis.
Another worm, pale green, very large, nearly like the tomato-worm, laid himself away in the earth in one corner of the fernery, there to change into a pupa, and remain until spring, when he will become a pretty moth—ash-color and pink, with brown spots. It will measure over three inches when the wings are spread.
A stupid-looking bug, somewhat like a May-beetle without wings, was also put into the cage. It soon attached itself to the branch, split open its back, and out came a lace-winged cicada, wrongly called a locust. You would be surprised to see how much larger it was than the case out of which it came.
Have any of you ever watched the wrigglers in your mother's barrel of rain-water, and have you seen them change to mosquitoes? If not, keep your eyes open early in the morning, is the advice of
Mary P.
Jericho, Long Island.
I live on Long Island, not very far from where Harper's Young People is published.
My sister Annie and I started for school two weeks ago. We have a new teacher, and we like her very much.
The only pets we have are three cats, Tiny, Daisy, and Lillie. Tiny is the nicest. We think they are all pretty smart. I suppose all who have pets think the same.
I am eleven years old. We have a piano, and take music lessons. I am a little farther along than Annie, so I teach her. I have no teacher now, but hope I shall soon have one. I like music very much.
I like "Tim and Tip" very much. "Toby Tyler" was splendid. I hope Jimmy Brown will favor us with another account of his misfortunes soon.