the bridge Elnora's bright head and her lavender dress made a picture
worthy of much contemplation.

"I object!" repeated the man. "When I work I want to see results. I'd
rather exercise sawing wood, making one pile grow little and the other
big than to cast all day and catch nothing because there is not a fish
to take. Work for work's sake doesn't appeal to me."

He digged the groove around the cocoon with skilled hand. "Now there is
some fun in this!" he said. "It's going to be a fair job to cut it out,
but when it comes, it is not only beautiful, but worth a price; it will
help you on your way. I think I'll put up my rod and hunt moths. That
would be something like! Don't you want help?"

Elnora parried the question. "Have you ever hunted moths, Mr. Ammon?"

"Enough to know the ropes in taking them and to distinguish the
commonest ones. I go wild on Catocalae. There's too many of them, all
too much alike for Philip, but I know all these fellows. One flew into
my room when I was about ten years old, and we thought it a miracle.
None of us ever had seen one so we took it over to the museum to Dr.
Dorsey. He said they were common enough, but we didn't see them because
they flew at night. He showed me the museum collection, and I was so
interested I took mine back home and started to hunt them. Every year
after that we went to our cottage a month earlier, so I could find them,
and all my family helped. I stuck to it until I went to college. Then,
keeping the little moths out of the big ones was too much for the mater,
so father advised that I donate mine to the museum. He bought a fine
case for them with my name on it, which constitutes my sole contribution
to science. I know enough to help you all right."