The Cicada: the Eggs 



colour will enable me more easily to find the 

 little yellow creature when I want to see 

 what is happening; and its softness will suit 

 the feeble mattock. I heap it not too tightly 

 in a glass pot; I plant a little tuft of thyme 

 in it; I sow a few grains of wheat. There 

 is no hole at the bottom of the pot, though 

 there ought to be, if the thyme and the wheat 

 are to thrive; the captives, however, finding 

 the hole, would be certain to escape through 

 it. The plantation will suffer from this lack 

 of drainage; but at least I am certain of 

 finding my animals with the aid of my mag- 

 nifying-glass and plenty of patience. Be- 

 sides, I shall indulge in no excesses in the 

 matter of irrigation, supplying only enough 

 water to prevent the plants from dying. 



When everything is ready and the corn is 

 beginning to put forth its first shoots, I place 

 six young Cicada-larvae on the surface of the 

 soil. The puny grubs run about and explore 

 the earthy bed pretty nimbly; some make 

 unsuccessful attempts to climb the side of the 

 pot. Not one seems inclined to bury itself, 

 so much so that I anxiously wonder what the 

 object can be of these active and prolonged 

 investigations. Two hours pass and the rest- 

 less roaming never ceases. 

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