From the middle of May to the end of June of the year I was most occupied with this book, my room was filled with cocoons and pupa cases.  The encased moths I had reason to believe were on the point of appearing lay on a chair beside my bed or a tray close my pillow.  That month I did not average two hours of sleep in a night, and had less in the daytime.  I not only arose `betimes,’ but at any time I heard a scratching and tugging moth working to enter the world, and when its head was out, I was up and ready with note-book and camera.  Day helped the matter but slightly, for any moth emerging in the night had to be provided a location, and pictured before ten o’clock or it was not safe to take it outside.  Then I had literally ‘to fly’ to develop the plate, make my print and secure exact colour reproduction while the moth was fresh.

For this is a point to remember in photographing a moth.  A free living moth never raises its wings higher than A straight line from the bases crossing the top of the thorax.  It requires expert and adept coaxing to get them horizontal with their bases.  If you do, you show all markings required; and preserve natural values, quite the most important things to be considered.

I made a discovery with Carolina.  Moths having digestive organs and that are feeders are susceptible to anaesthetics in a far higher degree than those that do not feed.  Many scientific workers confess to having poured full strength chloroform directly on nonfeeders, mounted them as pinned specimens and later found them living; so that sensitive lepidopterists have abandoned its use for the cyanide or gasoline jar.  I intended to give only a whiff of chloroform to this moth, just enough that she would allow her tongue to remain uncoiled until I could snap its fullest extent, but I could not revive her.  The same amount would have had no effect whatever on a non-feeder,

CHAPTER XII Bloody-nose of Sunshine Hill:  Hemaris Thysbe

John Brown lives a mile north of our village, in the little hamlet of Ceylon.  Like his illustrious predecessor of the same name he is willing to do something for other people.  Mr. Brown owns a large farm, that for a long distance borders the Wabash River where it is at its best, and always the cameras and I have the freedom of his premises.

On the east side of the village, about half its length, swings a big gate, that opens into a long country lane.  It leads between fields of wheat and corn to a stretch of woods pasture, lying on a hillside, that ends at the river.  This covers many acres, most of the trees have been cut; the land rises gradually to a crest, that is crowned by a straggling old snake fence, velvety black in places, grey with lint in others, and liberally decorated its entire length