THE CRICKET 



clean, free from damp, and conforming to the rules of 

 hygiene. On the other hand, it is an enormous under- 

 taking, a gigantic tunnel, when we consider the modest 

 tools with which the Cricket has to dig. If we wish to 

 know how he does it, and when he sets to work, we must 

 go back to the time when the egg is laid. 



The Cricket lays her eggs singly in the soil, like the 

 Decticus, at a depth of three-quarters of an inch. She 

 arranges them in groups, and lays altogether about five 

 or six hundred. The egg is a little marvel of mechan- 

 ism. After the hatching it appears as an opaque white 

 cylinder, with a round and very regular hole at the top. 

 To the edge of this hole is fastened a cap, like a lid. In- 

 stead of bursting open anyhow under the thrusts of the 

 larva within, it opens of its own accord along a circular 

 line — a specially prepared line of least resistance. 



About a fortnight after the egg is laid, two large, 

 round, rusty-black dots darken the front end. A little 

 way above these two dots, right at the top of the cylinder, 

 you see the outline of a thin circular swelling. This 

 is the line where the shell is preparing to break open. 

 Soon the transparency of the egg allows one to see the 

 delicate markings of the tiny creature's segments. Now 

 is the time to be on the watch, especially in the morning. 



Fortune loves the persevering, and if we pay constant 

 visits to the eggs we shall be rewarded. All round the 

 swelling, where the resistance of the shell has gradually 



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