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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Girl of the Limberlost"

Help me to unshackle and expand my soul to the
fullest realization of Your wonders. Almighty God, make me bigger, make
me broader!'"
The moth climbed to the end of the projection, up it a little way, then
suddenly reversed its wings, turned the hidden sides out and dropped
them beside its abdomen, like a large fly. The upper side of the wings,
thus exposed, was far richer colour, more exquisite texture than the
under, and they slowly half lifted and drooped again. Mrs. Comstock
turned her face to Philip.
"Am I an old fool, or do you feel it, too?" she half whispered.
"You are wiser than you ever have been before," answered he. "I feel it,
also."
"And I," breathed Elnora.
The moth spread its wings, shivered them tremulously, opening and
closing them rapidly. Philip handed the box to Elnora.
She shook her head.
"I can't take that one," she said. "Give her freedom."
"But, Elnora," protested Mrs. Comstock, "I don't want to let her go.
She's mine. She's the first one I ever found this way. Can't you put her
in a big box, and let her live, without hurting her? I can't bear to let
her go. I want to learn all about her."
"Then watch while we gather these on the trees," said Elnora. "We will
take her home until night and then decide what to do. She won't fly for
a long time yet."
Mrs. Comstock settled on the ground, gazing at the moth. Elnora and
Philip went to the baited trees, placing several large moths and a
number of smaller ones in the cyanide jar, and searching the bushes
beyond where they found several paired specimens of differing families.


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