d. The plague spread even to China, until in
1865 the only good eggs to be had were those from India. You can imagine
what a terrible experience that was for the peasants. Not only did they
lose all the eggs that they had raised and stored, but as most of them
were poor they could not afford to import perfect eggs from India. Hence
many of them gave up silk-raising entirely and the price both of
silkworms and of silk became enormous. Only the very rich could afford
to buy either."

"How did people ever get out of such a tangle, Mother?" questioned
Marie, much interested.

"Little by little those fortunate persons who secured good eggs sold a
few to those who had none, and the crop soon increased, for one
silkworm-moth will lay as many as two or three hundred eggs. But even at
this rate it took many years to get the industry up to where it was
before. It was a terrible misfortune to the French and Italian peasants,
and you may be pretty sure that as a result of the calamity every one
set about being careful to prevent another such disaster. Now when
silkworms are ill they are quickly isolated, just as people are who have
contagious diseases. And if there is danger of wide-spread infection,
and the growers think best not to take any risks, they will even kill
many of the caterpillars outright. The sacrifice is sometimes great, but
it is a necessary precaution. Furthermore, present day sericulturists
have learned much about growing silkworms, and the importance of keeping
the silk-houses clean and well aired; they have found that they must
preserve an even temperature within the buildings; wash the walls down
with lime to purify the atmosphere; sterilize the trays from which the
worms feed; and hatch the eggs in large, airy places. The most
up-to-date growers who work on a large scale use incubators. Of course,
however, there are still some ignorant peasants who insist on hatching
the caterpillars inside their clothing, where the warmth from their
bodies will bring the eggs quickly to maturity. Fortunately there are
not many who do this. They have learned better."

"I should hope so!" ejaculated both Marie and Pierre in a breath.

There was a moment of silence; then the boy looked up into his mother's
face and said:

"I understand now why Father was so particular."

"Your father is an intelligent man, who believes that 'trifles make
perfection and that perfection is no trifle,'" answered Madame Bretton.
"He has rais