The Mantis: her Hatching 



The swelling of its head soon diminishes and 

 disappears. Its colour is not long in darken- 

 ing and turns light-brown within twenty-four 

 hours. The little Mantis very nimbly lifts 

 up her grappling-legs, opens and closes them; 

 she turns her head to right and left; she curls 

 her abdomen. The fully-developed larva 

 has no greater litheness and agility. For a 

 few minutes the family stops where it is, 

 swarming over the nest; then it scatters at 

 random on the ground and the plants hard 

 by. 



I instal a few dozen emigrants under bell- 

 covers. On what shall I feed these future 

 huntresses ? On game, obviously. But what 

 game? To these miniature creatures I can 

 only offer atoms. I serve them up a rose- 

 branch covered with Green Fly. The plump 

 Aphis, a tender morsel suited to my feeble 

 guests, is utterly scorned. Not one of the 

 captives touches it. 



I try them with Midges, the smallest that 

 chance flings into my net as it sweeps the 

 grass, and meet with the same obstinate re- 

 fusal. I offer them pieces of Fly, hung here 

 and there on the gauze of the cover. None 

 accepts my quarters of venison. Perhaps 

 the Locust will tempt them, the Locust on 

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