The Life of the Grasshopper 



a fixed home, or else lie low under the shelter 

 of a lettuce-leaf. 



Peace reigns in the household until the 

 quarrelsome instincts of pairing-time break 

 out. Then affrays between suitors are fre- 

 quent and lively, though not serious. The 

 two rivals stand face to face, bite each other 

 in the head, that solid, fang-proof helmet, 

 roll each other over, pick themselves up and 

 separate. The vanquished Cricket makes off 

 as fast as he can; the victor insults him with 

 a boastful ditty; then, moderating his tone, 

 he veers and tacks around the object of his 

 desires. 



He makes himself look smart and, at the 

 same time, submissive. Gripping one of his 

 antennae with a claw, he takes it in his mandi- 

 bles to curl it and grease it with saliva. With 

 his long spurred and red-striped hind-legs, 

 he stamps the ground impatiently and kicks 

 out at nothing. His emotion renders him 

 dumb. His wing-cases, it is true, quiver rap- 

 idly, but they give forth no sound, or at 

 most an agitated rustling. 



A vain declaration! The female Cricket 

 runs and hides herself In a curly bit of let- 

 tuce. She lifts the curtain a little, however, 

 and looks out and wishes to be seen. 



340 



