need of more acute sense of scent and touch. The organ that is
used most is the one that develops in the evolution of any form
of life.

I can well believe that the antennae are most important to a moth,
for a broken one means a spoiled study for me. It starts the
moth tremulously shivering, aimlessly beating, crazy, in fact,
and there is no hope of it posing for a picture. Doctor Clemens
records that Cecropia could neither, walk nor fly, but wheeled in
a senseless, manner when deprived of its antennae. This makes
me sure that they are the seat of highest sensibility, for I
have known in one or two cases of chloroformed moths reviving and
without struggle or apparent discomfort, depositing eggs in a
circle around them, while impaled to a setting board with a pin
thrust through the thorax where it of necessity must have passed
through or very close the nervous cord and heart.

The moth is covered completely with silken down like tiny scales,
coloured and marked according to species, and so lightly attached
that it adheres to the cocoon on emergence and clings to the
fingers at the lightest touch. From the examination of specimens
I have taken that had disfigured themselves, it appears that a moth
rubbed bare of down would seem as if covered with thinly cut, highly
polished horn, fastened together in divisions. This is called
`chitine' by scientists.

The thorax bears four wings, and six legs, each having five joints
and ending in tiny claws. The wings are many-veined membranous
sacs, covered with scales that are coloured according to species
and arranged to form characteristic family markings. They are a