The Life of the Grasshopper 



light, always in brief spasms. There is no 

 mistaking it: here, in these fond lovers of 

 the light, we have a mere expression of hap- 

 piness. The Locust has his moments of 

 gaiety when his crop is full and the sun 

 benign. 



Not all the Acridians indulge in this joy- 

 ous rubbing. The Trv^calis ( Truxalis nasuta, 

 LIN.), who sports a pair of immensely elon- 

 gated hind-legs, maintains a gloomy silence 

 even under the most vigorous caresses of the 

 sun. I have never seen him move his shanks 

 like a bow; he seems unable to use them 

 so long are they for anything but hopping. 



Dumb likewise, apparently as a conse- 

 quence of the excessive length of his hind- 

 legs, the big Grey Locust (Pachytilus 

 cinerescens, FABR.) has a peculiar way of 

 diverting himself. The giant often visits me 

 in the enclosure, even in the depth of winter. 

 In calm weather, when the sun is hot, I sur- 

 prise him in the rosemaries, with his wings 

 unfurled and fluttering rapidly for a quarter 

 of an hour at a time, as though for flight. 

 His twirling is so gentle, in spite of its ex- 

 treme speed, as to create hardly a percepti- 

 ble rustle. 



Others still are much less well-endowed. 



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