\ r 



one of its chirping kindred. 

 For years during my boy- 

 hood I heard this fine insect- 

 like strain, and was complete- 

 ly deceived. It is a peculiarly 

 August song, and is in such 

 perfect harmony with the 

 locust and grasshopper din 

 which takes possession of the meadows at this season 

 the bird-songs having now almost entirely ceased that 

 few listeners would ever imagine it to proceed from the 

 throat of a bird. 



We all know the song of the meadow grasshopper, 

 even if we don't happen to know the formidable book 

 name of the singer (Orchelimum vulgar e). Our ears 

 must be dull indeed not to have recognized the "Zip. 

 zip, zip, z-e-e-e-e-e-c-e-e /" with the last strain consider- 

 ably prolonged into a continual roundel sustained by 

 thousands of tireless minstrels throughout the meadow. 

 We may hear it anywhere in the fields almost any sun- 

 ny summer day, but it is especially prevalent in the 

 vegetation of the swamps. If we steal slyly upon its 

 source, we may discern the green gauzy- winged min- 

 strel head downward on the sedge, and with his shrill- 

 ing taborets vibrating over his back. 



Perhaps, however, as we approach the sound the 



