The Cricket: the Song 



the Grasshopper and the other Locustidae 

 would come and show us their wing-cases, 

 one with the bow only, the other with the 

 mirror, and say: 



" Why should the Cricket, our near kins- 

 man, be symmetrical, whereas all of us 

 Locustidze, without exception, are asym- 

 metrical? " 



There is no valid answer to their objec- 

 tion. Let us confess our ignorance and 

 humbly say: 



" I do not know." 



It wants but a Midge's wing to confound 

 our proudest theories. 



Enough of the instrument; let us listen to 

 the music. The Cricket sings on the thresh- 

 old of his house, in the cheerful sunshine, 

 never indoors. The wing-cases, lifted in a 

 double inclined plane and now only partly 

 covering each other, utter their stridulant 

 cri-cri in a soft tremolo. It is full, sonorous, 

 nicely cadenced and lasts indefinitely. Thus 

 are the leisures of solitude beguiled all 

 through the spring. The anchorite at first 

 sings for his own pleasure. Glad to be alive, 

 he chants the praises of the sun that shines 

 upon him, the grass that feeds him, the 

 peaceful retreat that harbours him. The 



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