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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Girl of the Limberlost"

I go wild on Catocalae. There's too many of them, all
too much alike for Philip, but I know all these fellows. One flew into
my room when I was about ten years old, and we thought it a miracle.
None of us ever had seen one so we took it over to the museum to Dr.
Dorsey. He said they were common enough, but we didn't see them because
they flew at night. He showed me the museum collection, and I was so
interested I took mine back home and started to hunt them. Every year
after that we went to our cottage a month earlier, so I could find them,
and all my family helped. I stuck to it until I went to college. Then,
keeping the little moths out of the big ones was too much for the mater,
so father advised that I donate mine to the museum. He bought a fine
case for them with my name on it, which constitutes my sole contribution
to science. I know enough to help you all right."
"Aren't you going north this year?"
"All depends on how this fever leaves me. Uncle says the nights are too
cold and the days too hot there for me. He thinks I had better stay in
an even temperature until I am strong again. I am going to stick pretty
close to him until I know I am. I wouldn't admit it to any one at home,
but I was almost gone. I don't believe anything can eat up nerve much
faster than the burning of a slow fever. No, thanks, I have enough. I
stay with Uncle Doc, so if I feel it coming again he can do something
quickly."
"I don't blame you," said Elnora.


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