At a bare table of oak, yellow as gold, sat a woman Elnora often had watched and followed covertly around the Limberlost.

The Bird Woman was holding out a hand of welcome.
"I heard!" she laughed.

"A little pasteboard box, or just the mere word 'specimen,' passes you at my door.

If it is moths I hope you have hundreds.

I've been very busy all summer and unable to collect, and I need so many.