PACKARD.] INSECTS OF THE FIELD. 193 



8* Iu86t}t8 ni ilxB fwia. 



WE will now step from under the shade of the apple 

 trees, and walk out in the open fields. And here 

 the bustle and stir of insect life is as bewildering 

 and overpowering to him of acute entomological sense as a 

 walk down Broadway or along the Strand is to the rustic. 

 Insects love the open fields. Under the shade of the forests 

 they pursue their avocations in comparative silence ; in the 

 garden or orchard their limbs are cramped, and their glut- 

 tonous life may be accounted for in part by their sedentary 

 habits. There they eat, drink, and sleep, and that is with 

 them the end of their existence ; but for merry making, 

 hilarit}', and a bus}' metropolitan industr}', which shows an 

 interest in all insect-kind, all the while intent on their own 

 life work, and for light-hearted enjoyment of the blessings 

 of an open sky, the breezy sod, and freedom of the grassy 

 plains, commend us to the insects of the fields. And by 

 fields we mean not the broad prairies or dreary moors, but 

 the savannas and glades in forests, the lawns bordered with 

 the hawthorn, buckthorn or cedar, and the grass lands, and 

 wheat and corn fields. 



The bees with their swift, strong, steady flight and Ijns}' 

 hum, the grasshopper with his sprightly leap and laughing 

 chirrup, the gorgeous butterfly floating aloft, clearing an 

 acre in one swoop, these are the true field insects ; while, 

 envious of their active life, the noisy Cicada leaves his forest 

 shelter and clinging to some shrub in the open field swells 

 the chorus of insect sounds with his rattling, shrill cry. 



There is really a distinct assemltlage of insects peopling 

 the fields. At the suggestion of a walk out into the open 

 country Ave have visions of grasshoppers rising under our 

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