“Yes, Professor, but I don’t call it much of a beauty. There it is--on that branch,” and he pointed out some object to the scientist.
The latter made a quick movement with his net, and brought it back to him with a sweeping motion. Then he eagerly peered within the folds of the mesh. A disappointed look came over his face, and he sighed deeply.
“Isn’t that the kind you want?” asked Bob. “It’s yellow.”
“It’s only a yellow leaf,” said the professor, showing it in his hand.
“All that work for nothing!” cried Jerry. “Breaking the professor’s net handle, tripping him up and all, for a yellow leaf. What’s the matter with your eyes, Bob?”
“Why--er--it looked like a butterfly!” insisted the stout lad.
“Never mind,” said the professor soothingly. “You meant all right, and, for the moment, I myself was deceived.”
Bob expressed his contrition, and redoubled his efforts to find what the professor sought, but to no end. The _Vanessa antiopa_ seemed to have deserted Fox Swamp.
“Ah, here’s a butterfly. Sure, this time!” cried Bob a little later. “I’m not sure it’s the kind you want, but I know it isn’t a leaf, Professor.”
The scientist hurried to the spot where Bob stood, and this time there was no accident. But again came a look of disappointment to the face of Professor Snodgrass.
“Isn’t that a butterfly?” asked Bob. “See, it’s moving away. Why don’t you get it?” for the professor did not move his net.
“It’s a moth, not a butterfly,” said the scientist, “and I have enough of that variety.”
“A moth!” exclaimed Ned. “It looked just like a butterfly.”
“Some moths are hard to distinguish from butterflies,” the professor went on. “They are quite different in their habits, however. Butterflies fly by day, and like the sunshine. Moths, on the other hand, are night-flying insects, though there are exceptions to both rules.”
“How can you tell a butterfly from a moth?” Jerry asked with interest.
“The best way, for an amateur, is to tell by the antennæ, or feelers. In a butterfly the feelers are thread-like, and have a small knob, or club, on the end, and naturalists give them the name _rhopalocera_, formed of two Greek nouns, one meaning a ‘club’ and the other a ‘horn.’
“Moths have all sorts of antennæ, or feelers, and we naturalists call them _heterocera_, which is made up of two Greek words, one meaning ‘all sorts,’ and the other (keras) a horn, as in the case of butterflies. So then we have these definitions: Moths are _lepidoptera_ having _all sorts_ of feelers, except those that are knob-shaped on the end, while butterflies are _lepidoptera_ which have _only_ feelers which end in knobs. Though in some tropical countries there are moths with feelers just like those of a butterfly. But I forgot I was not in the class room,” and Professor Snodgrass ended his little lecture.