finishing the interior they have given to the most minute exterior
organ from two to three inches of Latin name. From them we learn
that it requires a coxa, trochanter, femur, tibia, tarsus, ungues,
pulvillus, and anterior, medial and posterior spurs to provide a
leg for a moth. I dislike to weaken my argument that more work
along these lines is not required, by recording that after all
this, no one seems to have located the ears definitely. Some
believe hearing lies in the antennae. Hicks has made an especial
study of a fluid filled cavity closed by a membrane that he thinks
he has demonstrated to be the seat of hearing. Leydig, Gerstaecker,
and others believe this same organ to be olfactory. Perhaps, after
all, there is room for only one more doctor of science who will
permanently settle this and a few other vexing questions for us.

But what of the millons of Nature Lovers, who each year snatch only
a brief time afield, for rest and recreation? What of the masses
of men and women whose daily application to the work of life makes
vacation study a burden, or whose business has so broken the habit
of study that concentration is distasteful if not impossible?
These people number in the ratio of a million to one Naturalist.
They would be delighted to learn the simplest name possible for
the creatures they or their friends find afield, and the markings,
habits, and characteristics by which they can be identified.
They do not care in the least for species and minute detail
concerning anatomy, couched in resounding Latin and Greek terms
they cannot possibly remember.

I never have seen or heard of any person who on being shown any
one of ten of our most beautiful moths, did not consider and
promptly pronounce it the most exquisite creation he ever had seen,