The Life of the Grasshopper 



the caged insect has shown me. The dig- 

 ging is never done at a bare point in the 

 pan, but always under the shelter of a with- 

 ered lettuce-leaf, some remnant of the food 

 provided. This takes the place of the grass 

 screen that seems indispensable to the secrecy 

 of the establishment. 



The miner scrapes with his fore-legs and 

 uses the pincers of his mandibles to extract 

 the larger bits of gravel. I see him stamp- 

 ing with his powerful hind-legs, furnished 

 with a double row of spikes; I see him 

 raking the rubbish, sweeping it backwards 

 and spreading it slantwise. There you have 

 the method in its entirety. 



The work proceeds pretty quickly at first. 

 In the yielding soil of my cages, the digger 

 disappears underground after a spell that 

 lasts a couple of hours. He returns to the 

 entrance at intervals, always backwards and 

 always sweeping. Should he be overcome 

 with fatigue, he takes a rest on the threshold 

 of his half-finished home, with his head out- 

 side and his antennae waving feebly. He 

 goes in again and resumes work with pincers 

 and rakes. Soon the periods of repose be- 

 come longer and wear out my patience. 



The most urgent part of the work is done. 

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