THE FIELD-CKICKET 123 



pallor he retains only a white girdle which encircles the 

 thorax and reminds one of the leading-string of an 

 infant. 



Very much on the alert, he sounds his surroundings 

 with his long vibrating antennae ; he toddles and leaps 

 along with a vigour which his future obesity will no 

 longer permit. 



This is the age of stomach troubles. What are we to 

 give him to eat ? I do not know. I offer him adult diet 

 — the tender leaves of a lettuce. He disdains to bite it ; or 

 perhaps his bites escape me, so tiny would they be. 



In a few days, what with my ten households, I see 

 myself loaded with family cares. What shall I do with 

 my five or six thousand Crickets, an attractive flock, to be 

 sure, but one I cannot bring up in my ignorance of the 

 treatment required ? I will give you liberty, gentle 

 creatures ! I will confide you tc the sovereign nurse and 

 schoolmistress. Nature ! 



It is done. Here and there about my orchard, in the 

 most favourable localities, I loose my legions. What a 

 concert I shall have before my door next year if all goes 

 well 1 But no ! There will probably be silence, for the 

 terrible extermination will follow which corresponds 

 with the fertility of the mother. A few couples only may 

 survive : that is the most we can hope. 



The first to come to the living feast and the most eager 

 at the slaughter are the little grey lizard and the ant. I 

 am afraid this latter, hateful filibuster that it is, will not 

 leave me a single Cricket in my garden. It falls upon the 

 tiny Crickets, eviscerates them, and devours them with 

 frantic greed. 



Satanic creature ! And to think that we place it in the 



