OncemoreandthistimeinamoreseriousfashionIamthevictimofmyunthinkingenthusiasm。Hardlyistheoperationcompletedwhenthetipsofmyfingersbegintohurtingoodearnest，especiallyinthemoredelicatepartprotectedbytheedgeofthenail。Thefeelingislikethesharppainofasorethatisbeginningtofester。Alltherestofthedayandallthroughthenight，thepainpersists，troublesomeenoughtorobmeofmysleep。Itdoesnotquietdownuntilthefollowingday，aftertwenty-fourhoursofpettytorment。
Howdidthisnewmisadventurebefallme？Ihadnothandledthecaterpillars:
indeed，therewereveryfewoftheminthenestatthetime。Ihadcomeuponnoshedskins，forthemoultsdonottakeplaceinsidethesilkenpurse。Whenthemomenthascometodoffthesecondcostume，thatoftheredmosaic，thecaterpillarsclusteroutside，onthedomeoftheirdwelling，andthereleaveinasingleheaptheiroldclothesentangledwithbitsofsilk。Whatislefttoexplaintheunpleasantconsequencestowhichthehandlingofthenestexposesus？
Thebrokenredbristlesareleft，thefallenhairsformingadustthatisinvisiblewithoutaverycarefulexamination。ForalongtimetheProcessionariescrawlandswarmaboutthenest；theypasstoandfro，penetratingthethicknessofthewallwhentheygotothepasturesandwhentheyreturntotheirdormitory。Whethermotionlessoronthemove，theyareconstantlyopeningandclosingtheirapparatusofinformation，thedorsalmouths。Atthemomentofclosing，thelipsoftheseslits，rollingoneachotherlikethecylindersofaflattening-mill，catchholdofthefluffnearthem，tearitoutandbreakitintofragmentswhichthebottomofthepocket，presentlyreascending，shootsoutside。
Thusmyriadsofirritantparticlesaredisseminatedandsubtlyintroducedintoeverypartofthenest。TheshirtofNessusburnttheveinsofwhosoworeit；thesilkoftheProcessionary，anotherpoisonedfabric，setsonfirethefingersthathandleit。