MUSIC-MAKING INSECTS. 819 



boyhood once more. The old log .schoolhouse seemed 

 to be rising there out of the ashes, and I could fancy 

 myself standing among the plavvnates and companions 

 of three-score years ago — alas ! few of them remain now 

 in the flesh ! — whirling my toy 'locust,' and watching 

 the hosts of insects creep out of the ground and emerge 

 from the cracked shells which we gathered in handfuUs 

 from the trees, among whose branches noisy males were 

 rolling their rattling drums ! (Fig. 103.) Sixty years I 

 Has it been so long ago ? How vividly this little toy's 

 familiar music has revived the memories of those days. 

 Ah ! — But excuse me, friends, for obtruding these re- 

 collections upon you. Really, I was carried away for 

 the moment !" 



He bowed several times in a gentle and deprecating 

 wa}' toward the circle, but amid the radiance that 

 glowed upon his face, I could see two round tears 

 twinkling through his eyelids. Dear good man ! Alas, 

 he, too, since then, has joined the playmates of those 

 early days in 



" The innumerable caravan which moves 

 To that mjsterious realm where each shall take 

 His chamber in the silent halls of death." 



