THE CRICKET 



There I recognise my Cricket. I see him curling his 

 antennae on the threshold of his burrow, keeping him- 

 self cool in front and warm at the back. He is not 

 jealous of the Butterfly; on the contrary, he pities her, 

 with that air of mocking commiseration we often see in 

 those who have houses of their own when they are talk- 

 ing to those who have none. Far from complaining, he 

 is very well satisfied both with his house and his violin. 

 He is a true philosopher : he knows the vanity of things 

 and feels the charm of a modest retreat away from the 

 riot of pleasure-seekers. 



Yes, the description is about right, as far as it goes. 

 But the Cricket is still waiting for the few lines needed 

 to bring his merits before the public; and since La Fon- 

 taine neglected him, he will have to go on waiting a 

 long time. 



To me, as a naturalist, the important point in the two 

 fables is the burrow on which the moral is founded. 

 Florian speaks of the snug retreat; the other praises his 

 lowly home. It is the dwelling, therefore, that above 

 all compels attention, even that of the poet, who as a 

 rule cares little for realities. 



In this matter, indeed, the Cricket is extraordinary. 

 Of all our insects he is the only one who, when full- 

 grown, possesses a fixed home, the reward of his own 

 industry. During the bad season of the year, most of 



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