FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



grass that feeds him, the peaceful retreat that harbours 

 him. The first object of his bow is to hymn the pleasures 

 of life. 



Later on he plays to his mate. But, to tell the truth, 

 his attention is rewarded with little gratitude; for in the 

 end she quarrels with him ferociously, and unless he 

 takes to flight she cripples him — and even eats him more 

 or less. But indeed, in any case he soon dies. Even if 

 he escapes his pugnacious mate, he perishes in June. 

 We are told that the music-loving Greeks used to keep 

 Cicadre in cages, the better to enjoy their singing. I 

 venture to disbelieve the story. In the first place the 

 harsh clicking of the Cicadae, when long continued at 

 close quarters, is a torture to ears that are at all delicate. 

 The Greeks' sense of hearing was too well trained to take 

 pleasure in such raucous sounds away from the general 

 concert of the fields, which is heard at a distance. 



In the second place it is absolutely impossible to bring 

 up Cicadae in captivity, unless we cover over a whole 

 olive-tree or plane-tree. A single day spent in a 

 cramped enclosure would make the high-flying insect die 

 of boredom. 



Is it not possible that people have confused the Cricket 

 with the Cicada, as they also do the Green Grasshopper? 

 With the Cricket they would be quite right. He is one 

 who bears captivity gaily: his stay-at-home ways pre- 



[194] 



