2i6 NATURE'S STORY OF THE YEAR 



I found two of these still in song, though the 

 strains were rather intermittent. Age had already 

 enfeebled them. One, however, bit viciously when 

 captured, and took within the clasp of his jaws 

 quite a large piece of skin on his captor's hand, 

 but he did no harm to it. The next day, in a 

 glass cage, he behaved ferociously, springing on a 

 large " cabbage-grub " and tearing great pieces out 

 of its back. It was a rather dreadful scene, sug- 

 gesting some of the tragedies of insect life in the 

 hedge. The fat, helpless grub and the fierce 

 cricket fell together to the floor, the captor panting 

 visibly, but biting all the while. A few days later 

 this cricket died, probably from thirst. The other, 

 in a cage in a greenhouse, sang on several days, 

 and slew many lesser creatures, but he soon grew 

 silent. Placed on a rosebush in the open air he 

 resumed his music, till silenced by colder weather. 

 In the chill October mornings, when the sun 

 first scattered the mists, the old cricket would 

 slowly crawl to the warmest position on the tree, 

 sucking up the dew by the way, and finally 

 arranging himself as compactly as possible in the 

 attitude which assured of the most warmth ; and 



