The Burrow 1 1 3 



whereat the instinct for building a subter- 

 ranean gallery is imperatively aroused. When 

 this season is past, the excavating artist, if 

 accidentally deprived of his abode, becomes a 

 wandering Bohemian, careless of a lodging. 

 He has forgotten his talents and he sleeps 

 out. 



That the bird, the nest-builder, should neglect 

 its art when it has no brood to care for is per- 

 fectly logical : it builds for its family, not for 

 itself. But what shall we say of the Cricket, 

 who is exposed to a thousand mishaps when 

 away from home ? The protection of a roof 

 would be of great use to him ; and the giddy- 

 pate does not give it a thought, though he is 

 very strong and more capable than ever of 

 digging with his powerful jaws. 



What reason can we allege for this neglect ? 

 None, unless it be that the season of strenuous 

 burrowing is past. The instincts have a 

 calendar of their own. At the given hour, 

 suddenly they awaken ; as suddenly, after- 

 wards, they fall asleep. The ingenious become 

 incompetent when the prescribed period is 

 ended. 



H 



