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136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
65
Here
is
one
which
presents
a
pair
of
tiny
clubs
to
the
sphinx-moth
at
its
threshold,
gluing
them
to
its
bulging
eyes.
Another
attaches
similar
tokens
to
the
tongues
of
butterflies,
while
the
cypripedium
speeds
its
parting
guest
with
a
sticking-plaster
smeared
all
over
its
back.
And
so
we
might
continue
almost
indefinitely.
From
the
stand-point
of
frivolous
human
etiquette
we
smile,
perhaps,
at
customs
apparently
so
whimsical
and
unusual,
forgetting
that
such
a
smile
may
partake
somewhat
of
irreverence.
For
what
are
they
all
but
the
divinely
imposed
conditions
of
interassociation?
say,
rather,
interdependence,
between
the
flower
and
the
insect,
which
is
its
ordained
companion,
its
faithful
messenger,
often
its
sole
sponsor--the
meadows
murmuring
with
an
intricate
and
eloquent
system
of
intercommunings
beside
which
the
most
inextricable
tangle
of
metropolitan
electrical
currents
is
not
a
circumstance.
What
a
storied
fabric
were
this
murmurous
tangle
woven
day
by
day,
could
each
one
of
these
insect
messengers,
like
the
spider,
leave
its
visible
trail
behind
it!
As
a
rule,
these
blossom
ceremonies
are
of
the
briefest
description.
Occasionally,
however,
as
in
the
cypripedium
and
in
certain
of
the
arums,
or
"jack-in-the-pulpit,"
and
aristolochias,
the
welcome
becomes
somewhat
aggressive,
the
guest
being
forcibly
detained
awhile
after
tea,
or,
as
in
the
case
of
our
milkweed,
occasionally
entrapped
for
life.
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