MY CORYDALUS. 149 



just might work their way till they came within 

 the sacred limits of the land of Israel. 



Truly a wonderful amount of burrowing goes 

 on underneath our feet, but the burrowers are 

 far from being those persons of whom the rabbi 

 dreamed. Neither should I apply the epithet 

 " just " to Corydalus. His appearance was against 

 him. 



The rabbins say that the names of the angels 

 were first learned by the Jews during their captiv- 

 ity. But Corydalus, during his, had no desire to 

 learn the name of even the person who attended 

 him. Perhaps he did not look upon me as an 

 angel. Very likely he did not. And he would 

 not have flattered me by insinuating that I was 

 one, if he did not think so. He was not that 

 kind of a person. Still I was happy to have 

 found him. It is not on every journey to that 

 far-away brook that one can find such a treasure. 

 Do not I remember walking there one morning 

 and being so frightened by a dog and a cow that 

 I fled homeward bearing with me but a few mis- 

 erable caterpillars and a larvel Frog -hopper? 

 How much happier was the journey during which 

 Corydalus was found. 



In the other brook one May morning I found 

 floating dead an enormous Mole-cricket, one of 

 the creatures called by the French " Courtilidres," 

 from the old French word courtille, " garden." I 

 once kept a Mole-cricket in a bottle for quite a 



