The Life of the Grasshopper 



have enabled me to enter into certain details 

 of which Reaumur could not dream. 



The first Cicadas appear at the time of 

 the summer solstice. Along the much- 

 trodden paths baked by the sun and hardened 

 by the frequent passage of feet there open, 

 level with the ground, round orifices about 

 the size of a man's thumb. These are the 

 exit-holes of the Cicada-larvae, who come up 

 from the depths to undergo their transforma- 

 tion on the surface. They are more or less 

 everywhere, except in soil turned over by the 

 plough. Their usual position is in the driest 

 spots, those most exposed to the sun, espe- 

 cially by the side of the roads. Equipped 

 with powerful tools to pass, if necessary, 

 through sandstone and dried clay, the larva, 

 on leaving the earth, has a fancy for the 

 hardest places. 



One of the garden-paths, converted into a 

 little inferno by the glare from a wall facing 

 south, abounds in such exit-holes. I proceed, 

 in the last days of June, to examine these 

 recently abandoned pits. The soil is so hard 

 that I have to take my pickaxe to tackle it. 



The orifices are round and nearly an inch 

 in diameter. There is absolutely no rubbish 

 around them, no mound of earth thrown up 



