was
his first visit to him. They soon came in the sight of the house. It
was a neat, but plain cottage, situated near the foot of a hill. There
were several noble oaks around it, and fruit trees in the rear.
Luxuriant vines were trained around and over the front door. A large
and substantial barn stood a little one side, and back from the road,
with its great doors swung open. On a tall pole, behind the house,
there was a complete miniature of the cottage, which appeared to be
occupied by a family of birds, who were constantly flying back and
forth. This pretty birdhouse Clinton had made with his own hands the
previous winter.

When Oscar and Jerry reached the house, they saw Clinton doing
something in the orchard, behind the buildings, and walked along
towards him. They found him employed in destroying caterpillars'
nests, in the apple-trees. He had a light ladder, with which he
ascended the trees; and having his hands protected by a pair of old
gloves, he swept down the nests, and destroyed the young caterpillars
by the hundred.

"This is n't very pleasant work," said Clinton, "but it has got to be
done. I've been all over the orchard this morning, and this is the
last tree I 've got to examine. I shall be done in a few minutes, and
then I 'll walk around with you."

"I should like to know where all these caterpillars come from," said
Oscar; "do they come up from the ground?"

"No," replied Clinton. "A miller lays the eggs, the summer before, on
a branch of the tree, and there they stay till about the first of June;
then they hatch out, and build their nest. The nests look something
like tents, don't you see they do?"

"Yes, so they do," said Oscar.

"That's the reason they are called tent-caterpillars. There are three
or four hundred of them in every nest. In about a month from now, they
would all turn into millers, if nobody disturbed them, and lay millions
of eggs for next year's crop."

"That 's curious--I 've learnt something new by coming here," said
Oscar.

"There, I believe that's all," said Clinton, as he cast his eye over
the tree; "now come and see my turkeys."

Jerry slyly winked at Oscar, and both thought of the Shanghae rooster's
letter; but they said nothing, and followed Clinton to a tree near the
barn, where there was a large, motherly hen, surrounded by her happy
brood. They were young turkeys, but it was all the same to the poor
simple hen. She had set four weeks upon t