Old Primrose “129 houses, and had painted his clothes with it; then he had dabbed brown spots all along the back, and had painted his bald head black ; so he really looked exactly like a caterpillar unless one peered into him and detected his spectacles, and boots, and so on. “What a great caterpillar!” exclaimed Daisy Tinkler; “and how ugly it is—why, it’s quite like old Mr. Primrose.” Now this remark rather troubled old Re for he could not feel certain whether Daisy was really deceived, or whether she recog~ nised him and was poking fun at him. However, he threw himself into the part, and crawled slowly on his waistcoat to the cabbage-bed, and all over the cabbages, biting pieces out. There was one thing which caused him great regret—he could not for the life of him recollect what sort of noise a caterpillar makes—whether it grunts, or croaks, or squeaks, or hoots. So he tried little short jerky grunts, and looked out of the corner of his eye to see how Daisy took it. He fancied Daisy I