The Life of the Grasshopper 



and with his great hind-shanks rubs the 

 rough edge of his wing-cases; when the 

 Green Tree-frog, suffering from as chronic 

 a cold as the Cacan, swells his throat among 

 the leaves and distends it into a resounding 

 bladder at the approach of a storm, are 

 they both calling to their absent mates? By 

 no means. The bow-strokes of the first 

 produce hardly a perceptible strldulation; 

 the throaty exuberance of the second is no 

 more effective : the object of their desire does 

 not come. 



Does the insect need these sonorous out- 

 bursts, these loquacious avowals, to declare 

 its flame? Consult the vast majority, whom 

 the meeting of the two sexes leaves silent. 

 I see in the Grasshopper's fiddle, the Tree- 

 frog's bagpipes and the cymbals of the 

 Cacan but so many methods of expressing 

 the joy of living, the universal joy which 

 every animal species celebrates after its 

 kind. 



If any one were to tell me that the Cicadae 

 strum on their noisy instruments without giv- 

 ing a thought to the sound produced and for 

 the sheer pleasure of feeling themselves 

 alive, just as we rub our hands In a moment 

 of satisfaction, I should not be greatly 



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