BUSY DAYS

The Brettons' silkworms hatched as successfully as Josef had foretold they would, and soon Madame Bretton and her boy and girl had all they wished to do. Not that the work was taxing at first. For a while it was a simple matter to gather the fresh young mulberry leaves and keep the juvenile caterpillars amply supplied with food. Even the litter of stems and waste material that had to be cleared away with promptness did not cause much trouble, for most of it fell through the perforations in the tin shelves and could be readily removed. Now and then, of course, some unwary baby silkworm fell through too along with this waste matter and had to be rescued; for the most part, however, the task was simple enough.

"I do not see that it is hard work to raise silkworms," announced Pierre at the end of the first few days. "Why, a six-year-old child could feed them! It is the easiest thing imaginable."

Josef laughed.

"Just you wait, Pierre Bretton!" was his retort. "Some day in the near future I'll remind you of those words. The first three weeks are not arduous, I'll agree. The next twelve or fourteen days are harder, though; there are more things to think of and more food to gather. And as for the last part of the time--it demands all the care and labor that you will wish to expend."

But Pierre only shrugged his shoulders sceptically.

In the meantime the silkworms continued to thrive. The weather was warm and sunny and no irregular conditions broke in upon the work until one afternoon Josef announced in a warning tone:

"There'll be rain to-morrow. You better gather double your supply of mulberry leaves; for if you wait until morning the trees will be dripping wet, so we cannot find food for our caterpillars."

It was a timely forecast, for the old servant's prediction proved a true one, and thanks to his thoughtfulness, the crop of the youthful sericulturists escaped famine. After that the silk-raisers kept their eyes out for the possibility of showers or stormy weather. Never for an hour did they run out of food to supply the busy little creatures that were to earn for the Bretton family a livelihood. Tirelessly they fed the caterpillars; tirelessly cleared away the litter that it might not ferment and cause malady, or bury the worms beneath its weight and render them hot and torpid. For it was by keeping them vigorous and alert, with plenty of fresh food and fresh air that they would develop the heartiest appet.i.te, grow the fastest, and spin the largest coc.o.o.ns.

All these points were too important to be overlooked. Whenever the litter acc.u.mulated too fast or failed to drop through the grating of the shelves the caterpillars were gently removed on a cl.u.s.ter of fresh mulberry leaves to another spot, and the place made clean and tidy.

Then came a day when the silkworms began to cease eating and instead paused idly, with heads upraised.

"They are ready for their first moulting!" exclaimed Josef. "They want to peel off their tight clothing. Watch and see if I am not right."

And sure enough! The great transformation took place even as the old servant had said it would. Off came the skins--cap, shoes, and all!

The boy and girl were delighted.

After the poor, fatigued, wrinkled caterpillars had wriggled themselves free from their hampering garments they were sorry looking creatures indeed! But with a little rest they roused themselves and were soon eating voraciously, just as if nothing had happened. Day by day their appet.i.tes increased, and to keep pace with them they grew longer and plumper.

Again they shed their skins, and again were back eating as ravenously as before.

"The wrinkles surely do not have a chance to stay long in their coats,"

remarked Pierre. "Pretty soon they will want still other larger coats, too."

Full-sized leaves with a more solid fibre were now demanded by the maturing silkworms; but Josef cautioned the silk-raisers not to give their little charges old or tough leaves.

"There is a big difference between full grown vegetation, and old pa.s.se stuff," he explained. "You know how tired your jaws get chewing tough food. Well, theirs do, too. Remember they chew day in and day out--nights as well as other times. You've got to conserve their strength, for they will need every bit of it before they finish their work. I knew of some silkworms once that died from sheer exhaustion because they were given food that was too tough for them to masticate.

It is not an uncommon happening."

As the caterpillars continued to eat without cessation the odd little sound of the cutting of crisp leaves pervaded the silk-house. It was no such easy task to keep them supplied with food now! Day after day it was a race to pick the necessary quant.i.ty of leaves and remove the acc.u.mulating litter. Every one in the house worked, and even a boy or two was hired to help in the gathering.

"It is not so easy now, eh?" suggested Josef to Pierre. "Getting tired?"

"A little," admitted the boy. "It keeps one so on the everlasting jump.

Taking away the litter is stupid, tedious work; and then there is the double supply of leaves to last through the night!"

He sighed.

"You're right. It is a hard job," the old servant agreed kindly. "But have courage. When you get your first crop of fine coc.o.o.ns you will say it was worth it all, and you will forget that you ever were tired."

"I hope so," murmured Pierre wearily. "I get discouraged standing and hearing them gnaw those leaves. I know they are just making more work for us."

"You'd have far more cause to be disheartened if you didn't hear them,"

chuckled Josef. "That would be something to mourn over. But you shouldn't complain at their good healthy appet.i.tes."

Cheered by Josef's jests the work went on.

The endless monotony of feeding and clearing up, feeding and clearing up continued. Sometimes it seemed as if nothing was being accomplished. And yet when the young silk-growers compared the present size of their silkworms with that of the early hatched caterpillars the transformation seemed nothing short of a miracle.

Then came a day when Pierre detected a change in the aspect of his crop.

Gradually the worms had turned to a transparent green color and ceasing to eat were moving uneasily about. They seemed also to have shrunk to a smaller size.

In consternation the lad fled to Josef.

"Whatever is the matter with them?" he cried. "Are they ill? Has some epidemic come at this late day to sweep away all that we have done?"

The boy's face was pale with distress.

"They're all right," answered Josef rea.s.suringly. "They are just ready to spin, that's all. I did not expect it quite so soon. We must get the arches up without delay."

Both Pierre and Marie clapped their hands. They knew well what was to happen next for they had often seen their father arrange the little arches of brush on which the silkworms were to climb and spin their coc.o.o.ns. The placing of these rustic half-hoops was a delicate matter, since it was necessary to arrange them so that plenty of air might circulate through the s.p.a.ce they enclosed; otherwise the worms would refuse to spin. Twigs or slender pieces of brush were set along the shelves in such a way that when bent the shelf above held them in place and made of them a series of miniature bridges, or arches. For certain varieties of caterpillars Pierre gathered branches of oak shoots with dried leaves clinging to them because Josef explained that this type of silkworm preferred that sort of twig on which to fashion its coc.o.o.n; other brush was stripped of leaves. And throughout the following days the greatest care had to be taken that nothing should interrupt the spinning.

The things most to be dreaded were sudden noises; thunder-storms; and above all a drop in temperature, since chilly surroundings congealed the fluid silk in the ducts at each side of the silkworm, rendering it too thick for the creature to spin into fibre.

The noise and the temperature could to an extent be controlled. But the thunder-storms! Those were another matter.

Anxiously the Bretton family studied every pa.s.sing cloud.

"If a severe storm should wreck our crop now--at the very end--it would be cruel!" declared Pierre. "No matter how careful we are we cannot prevent some great black thunder-head from rolling over the mountains and down through the valley."

"It is useless to worry, dear," answered his mother. "If such a storm comes it will be through no fault of ours."

"It would raise havoc in our harvest just the same," cut in Josef. "The vibrations of thunder sound worse among the metal shelves. They catch the jar, and seem to hold and echo it. Your father told me about a man near Tours who had lightning wires along his shelves to protect his silkworms from electric currents. The wires carried off the worst of the vibration."

"I wish we could afford to equip our silk-house that way," said Marie.

"Just wait until we get rich. Maybe some day we can," answered Pierre gaily.

Fortunately for the Brettons' silkworms, however, no electrical storm came.

The caterpillars climbed serenely into the brush arches above their heads, selected spots that pleased their fancy, and began constructing their coc.o.o.ns. First came the loose, web-like oval within which the coc.o.o.n itself was to be made. This was the work of the first day and its construction was of what is known as floss. Then followed the yellow, compact coc.o.o.n requiring three or four days for its spinning.

Occasionally two worms would insist upon spinning together, crossing and recrossing their threads; these double coc.o.o.ns always had to be sorted out from the others, however, as the silk could not be wound off them easily.

The spinning was an interesting sight.

The silkworms poised themselves on the lower extremity of their bodies and using their front legs to guide the thread, sent it hither and thither from their mouths in wavy, irregular motion until the little egg-shaped ball was finished. The two fibres from the right and left side of the worm were so perfectly united in the spinaret that it was impossible to detect more than one thread. Patiently the tiny spinners toiled, and those worms that failed to spin were put into a room by themselves where the temperature was graded to a higher degree of heat that the warmer atmosphere might stimulate them to work.

When at last the coc.o.o.ns were done the Brettons surveyed them with satisfaction.