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 appetite, grow the fastest, and spin the largest cocoons.
All these points were too important to be overlooked. Whenever the
litter accumulated too fast or failed to drop through the grating of the
shelves the caterpillars were gently removed on a cluster 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
appetites 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 passe
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 quantity of leaves and remove the
accumulating 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 cocoons 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 appetites."
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 reassuringly. "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
cocoons. 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 space 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 cocoon;
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 passing 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 cocoons. First came the loose, web-like oval within which the
cocoon 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 cocoon requiring three or four days for its spinning.
Occasionally two worms would insist upon spinning together, crossing and
recrossing their threads; these double cocoons 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 cocoons were done the Brettons surveyed them with
satisfaction.
The weeks had been busy, fatiguing ones with hastily snatched meals, and
interrupted slumbers.
"One could not keep on like this for a long stretch without more help,"
declared Madame Bretton. "I am glad the caterpillars have their houses
made!"
"They are better houses than you think, too," added Josef. "For each
silkworm has coated the inside of his little home with a gum-like
substance that makes it waterproof. He has no intention of lying down to
sleep in a leaky cottage where the rain may drip through."
"But there is no rain in here," objected Marie.
"Of course not. But the silkworm does not know that. He builds his house
just as he would if it was out-of-doors where the good Lord intended it
should be. Your caterpillar hasn't the wit to realize that conditions
have changed with the years, and that he now lives out his days beneath
a roof that does away with the need of water-proofing. It is because the
cocoons are thus sealed on the inside that the water does not penetrate
them when they are floated. You'll notice that if you ever have a chance
to see the silk reeled off. It protects the chrysalis until it pierces
its way through its silken house and comes out a moth. But of course we
shall not let ours do that."
"Why not?" inquired Marie.
"Why not? Because after you have worked so hard to get your silk you do
not want it broken into short bits and spoiled, do you? If we were to
let the moths mature and make holes in the cocoons it would ruin all our
silk. No. We must let only a few moths come out and lay their eggs that
we may have them to hatch for our next crop of silkworms. We'll select
some of the finest cocoons for the purpose--those that are largest and
most perfect. Some must be male and some must be female moths."
"But how can we tell? Aren't they all shut up inside the cocoons?"
gasped Pierre.
"Oh, it is quite easy," answered Josef. "The female silkworm spins a
house which, like an egg, is a little sharper at one end than at the
other. We'll choose about the same number of each gender. There is a
knack in selecting good cocoons for breeding, and you've got to know
lots of things about them. And after we have chosen them there will be
the rest of the cocoons to sort. That will require care, too. We cannot
do it as experts do, but still we can group them roughly into lots of
various kinds. We can get at it to-morrow. I will give you your first
lesson. I fancy your mother knows more about it than the rest of us for
she has always helped your father do this part of the work."
"It will be fun to learn!" cried Marie. "Won't it, Pierre?"
"I don't believe it will be very hard," sniffed Pierre. "There can't be
much choice in cocoons. Most of them look alike, except that some are
bigger than others."
Josef regarded the boy a moment and then laughed.
"Don't be too cock-sure of that!" he retorted ironically.
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