of her larvae; the victualler would regulate
the bill of fare by the gastronomic demands of the victualled.

This exclusiveness of the carnivorous larva seems all the more probable
inasmuch as the larva reared on vegetable food refuses in any way
to lend itself to a change of diet. However pressed by hunger, the
caterpillar of the Spurge Hawk-moth, which browses on the tithymals,
will allow itself to starve in front of a cabbage leaf which makes a
peerless meal for the Pieris. Its stomach, burned by pungent spices,
will find the Crucifera insipid and uneatable, though its piquancy is
enhanced by essence of sulphur. The Pieris, on its part, takes good
care not to touch the tithymals: they would endanger its life. The
caterpillar of the Death's-head Hawk-moth requires the solanaceous
narcotics, principally the potato, and will have nothing else. All that
is not seasoned with solanin it abhors. And it is not only larvae whose
food is strongly spiced with alkaloids and other poisonous substances
that refuse any innovation in their food; the others, even those whose
diet is least juicy, are invincibly uncompromising. Each has its plant
or its group of plants, beyond which nothing is acceptable.

I remember a late frost which had nipped the buds of the mulberry-trees
during the night, just when the first leaves were out. Next day there
was great excitement among my neighbours: the Silk-worms had hatched
and the food had suddenly failed. The farmers had to wait for the sun
to repair the disaster; but how were they to keep the famishing new-born
grubs alive for a few days? They knew me for an expert in plants; by
collecting them as I walked through the fields I had earned the name
of a medical herbalist. With poppy-flowers I prepared an elixir which
cleared the sight; with borage I obtained a syrup which was a sovran
remedy for whooping-cough; I distilled camomile; I extracted the
essential oil from the wintergreen. In short, botany had won for me the
reputation of a quack doctor. After all, that was something.

The housewives came in search of me from every point of the compass and
with tears in their eyes explained the situation. What could they give
their Silk-worms while waiting for the mulberry to sprout afresh? It was
a serious matter, well worthy of commiseration. One was counting on her
batch to buy a length of cloth for her daughter, who was on the point of
getting married; another told me of her plans for a Pig to be