[Illustration] CHAPTER XIV REAL FAIRIES or the possible glory that underlies The passing phase of the meanest things. _Mrs. Whitney._ Alive it certainly was, this exquisite green moth, which rose on shimmering wings at Ruth’s touch. No wonder Ruth almost screamed aloud in her surprised delight. “Are you a moonbeam?” she asked. “You are just lovely enough for one.” “No, I am not a moonbeam,” was the answer, “_but I am the moon moth, the Luna_. I am a messenger for the night-blooming flowers, for only the long tongues of the moths may reach through the deep tubes to their honeyed hearts. I was taking my day nap when you touched me.” [Illustration: “‘I AM THE MOON MOTH, THE LUNA’”] “I didn’t know you were there,” said Ruth, “you looked so much like a leaf.” “That is what I wished to look like. Many others are sleeping the same way. You wouldn’t know them unless they moved. Our larvæ are not sleeping, however. I can answer for that. They are quite awake and busy eating the leaves of hickory, walnut, and other trees of that family. Maybe you have seen them? They are large and handsome, and they spin very snug cocoons of silk, wrapped about with a dead leaf, very much like those made by the polyphemus babies.” “Now you know your cocoon never had the quantity of silk in it that mine had,” said a yellowish-brown moth, rising from the trunk of a nearby tree. She was very handsome. There were window-like spots on her wings, and dusky bands edged with pink. Not far away were her larvæ, having a good time chewing the leaves of a plumb tree. They were light green, with an oblique yellow line on each side, and a purplish-brown V-shaped mark near the end of their bodies. “You may always know the polyphemus children by that mark,” said Mrs. Polyphemus, for it was she who had interrupted the Luna’s remarks. “Now, speaking of cocoons,” she went on, “as I said before, ours contain a great deal of silk. They have been used in the making of silk too. Shall I tell you my story?” Of course Ruth wanted to hear it. “Very well,” said Mrs. Polyphemus. “I belong to the family of giant silkworms, though, of course, we are not worms. I began my life on an elm leaf. It was a lovely morning in May when I was hatched, and the world seemed a beautiful place to live in. I did not spend much time admiring the scenery, though, for I was hungry. I ate the shell of my egg for the first course, then I began to chew elm leaves, and I kept it up steadily. Naturally I grew, and I changed my skin five times. When I was ready to make my cocoon I found a twig on the ground among the dead leaves, and spun a fluffy mass of gray-white silk all about it, and this wrapped in a dead leaf——” “What?” interrupted Mrs. Cecropia, “spin your cocoon on the ground? What a careless habit. Why not fasten it to the twig of a tree or——”