BEETLE MUSICIANS 139 



the locust (I refer to the flying locust of our fields, 

 those " grasshoppers " so generous with their " molas- 

 ses;" these are the true locusts, the insect usually called 

 ''locust" being the cicada) this individual fiddle of the 

 locust, then, is an inconspicuous instrument in itself, 

 being barely distinguishable by the ear without effort, 

 but in its myriadfold reenforcement it becomes an im- 

 portant element in the great meadow symphony. 



But while the grasshopper and locust tribes are re- 

 sponsible for most of our meadow music, there are yet 

 a few minor isolated musicians whose modest strains 

 we seldom hear, though individually their solos may be 

 superior to those of their recognized rivals. 



In a previous paper I alluded to the mysterious music 

 of the Antiopa butterfly, and the click- wheel rattle of 

 the " Coral-wing ;" and I now desire to introduce to 

 the music-loving public a trio of instrumentalists whose 

 claims are not sufficiently recognized. But on second 

 thought, perhaps one of my performers is already famil- 

 iar to most of my readers, if not as a musician, assuredly 

 as a " horrible creature " and a " horrid bug," that brings 

 terror and confusion to the peaceful family group as- 

 sembled around the evening lamp. A low drone just 

 outside the window announces the visitor, and in a mo- 

 ment more he is buzzing and bumping about the ceil- 

 ing, and is soon master of the house, his formidable jaws 

 insuring him a respectful distance and careful attention. 



But if we forego formalities, and unceremoniously lift 

 our intruder by the nape of his neck, we learn of an ac- 

 complishment which doubtless explains his overweening 

 assurance. For, lo ! is he not the " first fiddle " of all 

 out- doors? ''Squeak, squeak, squeak!" is his now in- 

 cessant refrain. It is well for us if we are content to 



