Music of the Wild 



oper, and Valley of the Wood Robin, just beyond 

 which lay my finest field of oats. 



The bees and all kinds of flies and insects were 

 attracted to it by the blooms along the fence ; birds 

 Grain-field of every field family sought the insects, the ber- 

 Vocahsts r | es Q f fa e bushes, and water. Lift a shock of 

 oats, and thousands of black field crickets poured 

 from under it. Touch any weed or swaying clover 

 head, and a grasshopper sprang from it as if shot 

 from a catapult, while the chorus of those scat- 

 tered over the field made a constant minor to louder 

 notes. So the oats field had more than a fair share 

 of inhabitants, and almost without exception they 

 were musicians that joined the choir, and sang and 

 played incomparably. 



Grasshoppers are extremely interesting. They 

 are good-natured, clean, and industrious. They 

 must be naturally musical, for they need not sing 

 all day and half the night unless they choose. At 

 least one would not think their notes compulsory, 

 and the production of them appears to be work. 

 Grasshoppers seem to be enclosed in a coat of 

 mail, so firm and hard is the striped, glassy cov- 

 ering. They make music with the stiff wing- 

 shields by half raising and rubbing them at the 

 base. The notes are a queer "Zerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" 

 of a sound, increasing in volume for a few sec- 

 onds, and then falling away in three slow, distinct 

 notes, "Tink, tink, tink." 

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