The moth often flies by day. He has lovely, painted wings, but they do not _gleam_ as do those of the butterfly. “I do not want to hear about moths,” said a little girl; “I know all about _them_. I kill all I can see. I killed a big, white one, last night. They do so much harm. They ate up my mother’s best muff!” “And did you kill the tiny, silvery-looking moth, which was flying close to the carpet? He is a little fellow, who when he lights, is folded into a roll, not so long as the nail of your little finger.” “No,” says the little girl; “he is too little to do any harm. I let him alone.” “Alas! my child. How easy it is, in this world, to be mistaken! How often the innocent suffer for the guilty! That silent, white creature, looking like the ghost of a lily, never has done any harm. That little silver roll is the meddler, who, in his early days, ate up your mother’s muff! Come, I see you know nothing about moths.” As we sat on the porch, last night, some one said, “Who ever before saw a humming-bird flying at night? There is one now, at the honey-suckles.” No! it was not a humming-bird, but a large hawk-moth. He hung poised on his quivering wings, unrolled his long trunk, thrust it deep into a flower, and drank honey. It was hard to distinguish him from a humming-bird. Then, as he dashed across a moonlit space, he looked like the swallows we had watched at sunset. The hawk-moths are large, with large furry bodies. They have a swift, bird-like flight. One of the largest is called the “death’s head.” He is furry, even to his wings and legs. On his shoulders he has black and white marks, like a skull. The caterpillar of this moth is the largest of caterpillars. It is four inches long, and as thick as a man’s finger. Its color is green, gray, and yellow, with black dots. It lives on potato-vines. It has bluish stripes on the sides. If you find one, you can raise a moth from it. You must keep it in a dark place, give it potato leaves to eat, and some moist earth to burrow in. For this caterpillar hides in the ground, to spend his pupa days. The pupa case looks, I think, much like a sea-shell. A queer thing about this moth is, that it can squeak. If you touch its feet, with a bit of stick, it seems angry. It crouches down, and gives a squeak. No one knows how it makes this noise. Another curious moth is the wasp moth. It is a day-flyer. It loves the hottest noons. It does not look much like a moth. It looks like a wasp, or hornet. Its body is slim, and has yellow and black bands. Its wings have very few scales. The wings are thin and clear, like those of a wasp. These wasp moths live about trees and shrubs. They lay their eggs under the bark. The caterpillars are able to eat wood. They gnaw the wood for food, and so dig their way into the trees, and live there. When they have eaten all they want, they have made a nice little hole in the tree. They line it with silk. Then they fall asleep in their pupa state.