"No, dear. After the moths have found their mates they can be moved very easily. I have often seen your father take them gently by the wings and put as many couples as he could on large sheets of white paper. There they remained, and after their eggs were laid we removed the moths and folding the papers of eggs put them away for next season's hatching. The eggs were fastened so firmly to the paper that there was no danger of losing any of them. Now where shall we spread the papers for our own moths? They must be put well out of the sun and the strong light and also where there is nothing to disturb the butterflies--no mice or insects for example--or they will not lay eggs for us. Suppose we spread our papers in Uncle Jacques' room. It is not in use now and it is on the shady side of the house." Rising, she crossed the floor and threw open the door of a vacant bedroom. Pierre noticed a shade of sadness flit across her face. "Uncle Jacques would be glad to think we are using his room, Mother," said the boy quickly. "He has always been so interested in the silkworms. Perhaps by the time the mulberry trees leaf again we shall have peace, and he and Father will be once more at home helping us hatch out these very eggs. Who knows?" "Who knows indeed, dear? Only the good God who is watching over their lives! It may be as you say. The spring may see them back again. We must do our part to be ready for their coming." From a drawer she brought out some large flat sheets of white paper and spread them upon table, bureau, bed, and chairs. As the room was long there was plenty of space. [Illustration: "GO ON TIPTOE"] "Now see how careful you can be in bringing in the moths. Go on tiptoe and move gently." Slowly the pairs of greenish white butterflies were transferred to the papers. Scarcely one did more than flutter feebly. "How long will it take before the eggs are laid, Mother?" inquired Pierre. "From twenty-four to thirty-six hours--usually not longer than that. Each female moth will lay three or four hundred eggs." "Shall we have room for so many?" "Oh, yes," nodded Madame Bretton. "You recall how small they are--only about the size of the head of a pin." "In the meantime what are we going to give the moths to eat?" asked Marie. "Nothing. They are not hungry like silkworms. After they leave the cocoon they eat no food, and they will live but a few days after their eggs are laid. We must then gather up the sheets of eggs as quickly as we can, for if they are left exposed to the light and air they will hatch at once and then where should we be?" "The entire crop would be lost!" gasped Pierre.