You
watch and don't let that moth out of sight, or anything touch it. When
the wings are expanded and hardened we will put it in a box."
"I am afraid it will race itself to death," objected Mrs. Comstock.
"That's a part of the game," said Philip. "It is starting circulation
now. When the right moment comes, it will stop and expand its wings. If
you watch closely you can see them expand."
Presently the moth found a rough projection of bark and clung with its
feet, back down, its wings hanging. The body was an unusual orange red,
the tiny wings were gray, striped with the red and splotched here
and there with markings of canary yellow. Mrs. Comstock watched
breathlessly. Presently she slipped from the log and knelt to secure a
better view.
"Are its wings developing?" called Elnora.
"They are growing larger and the markings coming stronger every minute."
"Let's watch, too," said Elnora to Philip.
They came and looked over Mrs. Comstock's shoulder. Lower drooped the
gay wings, wider they spread, brighter grew the markings as if laid off
in geometrical patterns. They could hear Mrs. Comstock's tense breath
and see her absorbed expression.
"Young people," she said solemnly, "if your studying science and the
elements has ever led you to feel that things just happen, kind of
evolve by chance, as it were, this sight will be good for you. Maybe
earth and air accumulate, but it takes the wisdom of the Almighty God
to devise the wing of a moth.
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