22 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



merit's silence. He possesses as his apparatus of sound 

 only a modest drum and scraper, whereas they, more 

 highly privileged, have their bellows, the lungs, which 

 send forth a column of vibrating air. There is no com- 

 parison possible. 



Let us return to the insects. 



One of these, though inferior in size and no less spar- 

 ingly equipped, greatly surpasses the Grasshopper in 

 nocturnal rhapsodies. I speak of the pale and slender 

 Italian Cricket (CEcanthus pellucens, Scop.), who is so 

 puny that you dare not take him up for fear of crushing 

 him. He makes music everywhere among the rosemary- 

 bushes, while the Glow-worms light up their blue lamps 

 to complete the revels. The delicate instrumentalist con- 

 sists chiefly of a pair of large wings, thin and gleam- 

 ing as strips of mica. Thanks to these dry sails, he 

 fiddles away with an intensity capable of drowning the 

 Toads' fugue. His performance suggests, but with more 

 brilliancy, more tremolo in the execution, the song of the 

 Common Black Cricket. Indeed the mistake would cer- 

 tainly be made by any one who did not know that, by the 

 time the very hot weather comes, the true Cricket, the 

 chorister of spring, has disappeared. His pleasant violin 

 has been succeeded by another more pleasant still and 

 worthy of special study. We shall return to him at an 

 opportune moment. 



These then, limiting ourselves to select specimens, are 

 the principal participants in this musical evening: the 

 Scops-owl, with his languorous solos; the Toad, that 

 tinkler of sonatas; the Italian Cricket, who scrapes the 



