"I object," said the man emphatically. He stopped work again and studied Elnora. Even the watching mother could not blame him. Against the embankment, in the shade of 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 don't appeal to me. I work for results."
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 that 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
