THE CICADA 21 



outer air till the last moment. At the least hint of fine weather 

 he scrambles up, and, through the thin lid at the top, inquires 

 into the state of the weather. 



If he suspects a storm or rain on the surface matter of 

 great importance to a delicate grub when he takes off his 

 skin ! he slips prudently back to the bottom of his snug 

 funnel. But if the weather seems warm he smashes his 

 ceiling with a few strokes of his claws, and climbs to the 

 surface. 



It is the fluid substance carried by the Cicada-grub in his 

 swollen body that enables him to get rid of the rubbish in 

 his burrow. As he digs he sprinkles the dusty earth and 

 turns it into paste. The walls then become soft and yield- 

 ing. The mud squeezes into the chinks of the rough soil, 

 and the grub compresses it with his fat body. This is why, 

 when he appears at the top, he is always covered with wet 

 stains. 



For some time after the Cicada-grub's first appearance 

 above-ground he wanders about the neighbourhood, looking 

 for a suitable spot in which to cast off his skin a tiny bush, 

 a tuft of thyme, a blade of grass, or the twig of a shrub. When 

 he finds it he climbs up, and clings to it firmly with the 

 claws of his fore-feet. His fore-legs stiffen into an immovable 



grip- 

 Then his outer skin begins to split along the middle of 



the back, showing the pale-green Cicada within. Presently 

 the head is free ; then the sucker and front legs appear, 

 and finally the hind-legs and the rumpled wings. The 

 whole insect is free now, except the extreme tip of his 

 body. 



He next performs a wonderful gymnastic feat. High in 

 the air as he is, fixed to his old skin at one point only, he turns 

 himself over till his head is hanging downwards. His crumpled 

 wings straighten out, unfurl, and spread themselves. Then 

 with an almost invisible movement he draws himself up again 



