They didn't seem to belong to any one so I just took them. Uncle Wesley
said it was all right, and he cut and hauled them for me. I gave the
mill half of each tree for sawing and curing the remainder. Then I gave
the wood-carver half of that for making my frames. A photographer gave
me a lot of spoiled plates, and I boiled off the emulsion, and took the
specimens I framed from my stuff. The man said the white frames were
worth three and a half, and the black ones five. I exchanged those
little framed pictures for the photographs of the others. For presents,
I gave each one of my crowd one like this, only a different moth. The
Bird Woman gave me the birch bark. She got it up north last summer."
Elnora handed her mother a handsome black-walnut frame a foot and a
half wide by two long. It finished a small, shallow glass-covered box of
birch bark, to the bottom of which clung a big night moth with delicate
pale green wings and long exquisite trailers.
"So you see I did not have to be ashamed of my gifts," said Elnora. "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. Now, I must put away these and get to
work, for it is almost June and there are a few more I want dreadfully.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216