126 FABEE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



As soon as he is rid of his swaddling-clothes the young 

 Cricket, pale all over, almost white, begins to battle with the 

 soil overhead. He hits out with his mandibles ; he sweeps 

 aside and kicks behind him the powdery earth, which offers 

 no resistance. Very soon he is on the surface, amidst the 

 joys of the sunlight and the perils of conflict with his fellow- 

 creatures poor feeble mite that he is, hardly larger than a 

 Flea. 



By the end of twenty-four hours he has turned into a 

 magnificent blackamoor, whose ebon hue vies with that of 

 the full-grown insect. All that remains of his original pallor 

 is a white sash that girds his chest. Very nimble and alert, 

 he sounds the surrounding air with his long, quivering antennae, 

 and runs and jumps about with great impetuosity. Some 

 day he will be too fat to indulge in such antics. 



And now we see why the mother Cricket lays so many 

 eggs. It is because most of the young ones are doomed to 

 death. They are massacred in huge numbers by other insects, 

 and especially by the little Grey Lizard and the Ant. The 

 latter, loathsome freebooter that she is, hardly leaves me a 

 Cricket in my garden. She snaps up the poor little creatures 

 and gobbles them down at frantic speed. 



Oh, the execrable wretch ! And to think that we place 

 the Ant in the front rank of insects ! Books are written in 

 her honour, and the stream of praise never runs dry. The 

 naturalists hold her in the greatest esteem, and add daily 

 to her fame. It would seem that with animals, as with men, 

 the surest way to attract attention is to do harm to others. 



Nobody asks about the Beetles who do such valuable 

 work as scavengers, whereas everybody knows the Gnat, 

 that drinker of men's blood ; the Wasp, that hot-tempered 

 swashbuckler, with her poisoned dagger; and the Ant, that 

 notorious evil-doer who, in our southern villages, saps and 

 imperils the rafters of a dwelling as cheerfully as she eats a fig. 



The Ant massacres the Crickets in my garden so thoroughly 

 that I am driven to look for them outside the enclosure. In 



