The Cicada: his Music 



The strophe begins abruptly. In a rapid 

 crescendo, the abdomen oscillating faster and 

 faster, it acquires its maximum volume; it 

 keeps up the same degree of strength for a 

 few seconds and then becomes gradually 

 weaker and degenerates into a tremolo which 

 decreases as the belly relapses into rest. 

 With the last pulsations of the abdomen 

 comes silence, which lasts for a longer or 

 shorter time according to the condition of the 

 atmosphere. Then suddenly we hear a new 

 strophe, a monotonous repetition of the first; 

 and so on indefinitely. 



It often happens, especially during the 

 sultry evening hours, that the insect, drunk 

 with sunshine, shortens and even entirely 

 suppresses the pauses. The song is then con- 

 tinuous, but always with alternations of 

 crescendo and decrescendo. The first strokes 

 of the bow are given at about seven or eight 

 o'clock in the morning; and the orchestra 

 ceases only with the dying gleams of the 

 twilight, at about eight o'clock in the even- 

 ing. Altogether the concert lasts the whole 

 round of the clock. But, if the sky be over- 

 cast, if the wind blow cold, the Cicada is 

 dumb. 



The second species is only half the size 

 65 



