I always find more of the spice-bush silk-moth than any others,--perhaps because we both love the same woodland spots, borders of the ponds and streams where the benzoin and sassafras flourish, or upland pastures where the wild cherry hangs out its white racemes in May. They dangle freely in the wind, looking for all the world like a left-over leaf rolled by accident into a rude cylinder. Yet the moth is safe and warm within, rolled up in a silken coat that is firmly glued to the leaf; and not only that, but extends in silky fabric all up along the petiole, and firmly holds it to the twig itself. The mad winds which have scoured the bush clean of all leaves and débris have had no strength which can pluck this “last leaf upon the tree.” If left to itself it will still hang there a year or two, perhaps more, after the moth has emerged, gradually bleaching to a soft gray, but still clinging. It is a splendid quality of silk, but no one has yet succeeded in reeling or carding it. _Callosamia promethia_ thus escapes becoming a product of the farm rather than the pasture. It is a fine species to have hanging in winter cradles above your mantel, for the _imago_ is large and beautiful, with deep browns and tans softly shading into grays that are tinted with iris, the male being distinct with a body color of deep brown less diversified than the coloring of his mate. The _Samia cecropia_ is another of our silk-worm moths whose cocoon is not difficult to find. The _cecropia_, instead of rolling up in a pendant leaf, constructs his cocoon without protection, and glues it right side up beneath a stout twig or even a considerable limb. I have one now that I took from the under side of a big leaning alder bole, skiving it off with the bark, but most of those I have collected have been attached to slender twigs of low shrubs. But, though the _cecropia_ does not roll up in a leaf, he is apt to place his winter home where dead leaves will persist about him. I have never found him so plentiful as the _promethea_, though he is commonly reported as numerous. Perhaps this habit of hiding among the dead leaves has to do with this. He is our largest moth, and in beauty of coloring is surpassed, to my mind, only by two others. One of these is _Telia polyphemus_,--a wonderful creature, almost as large as the _cecropia_, all a soft, rosy tan with fleckings of gray and white and bands of soft violet-gray and pink, and great eyespots of white margined with yellow, browed with peacock blue, and ringed with violet-black. The larva, which is bigger than a big man’s thumb, is a beautiful shade of transparent green with side slashings of silvery white, and feeds on most of our deciduous forest trees.