Pockens - A Moth or Butterfly

It was a large moth or butterfly. Its wings spread in butterfly fashion. It was strange it should be in the room at all, for the windows were closed. Strange that it should match the tablecloth. There was no delusion. It was crawling slowly towards the foot of the lamb. Then he suddenly thought of pockens. Something about the head and body of the insect became singularly suggestive of pocken just as the chess king had been. Confound, pocken, said happily, but I must catch this. And looking round him for some means of capturing the moth, he rose slowly out of his chair. Happily heard the ping, and vanished into the shadow