CHAPTER XV 



LOCUSTS 

 I 



THEIR VALUE 



' 1^ /f IND you 're ready, children, to-morrow morning 

 % / I before the sun gets too hot. We 're going Locust- 



^/ hunting.' 



This announcement throws the household into 

 great excitement at bed-time. What do my little helpers see 

 in their dreams ? Blue wings, red wings, suddenly flung out 

 like fans ; long saw-toothed legs, pale blue or pink, which kick 

 out when we hold their owners in our fingers ; great shanks 

 that act like springs, and make the insect leap forward as 

 though shot from a catapult. 



If there be one peaceful and safe form of hunting, one in 

 which both old age and childhood can share, it is Locust- 

 hunting. What delicious mornings we owe to it ! How 

 delightful, when the mulberries are ripe, to pick them from 

 the bushes ! What excursions we have had, on the slopes 

 covered with thin, tough grass, burnt yellow by the sun ! I 

 have vivid memories of such mornings, and my children will 

 have them too. 



Little Paul has nimble legs, a ready hand, and a piercing 

 eye. He inspects the clumps of everlastings, and peers closely 

 into the bushes. Suddenly a big Grey Locust flies out like a 

 little bird. The hunter first makes off at full speed, then stops 

 and gazes in wonder at this mock Swallow flying far away. 

 He will have better luck another time. We shall not go home 

 without a few of those magnificent prizes. 



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