The Life of the Grasshopper 



green thing. I therefore offer my captives 

 the tastiest and tenderest garden-stuff that my 

 enclosure holds: leaves of lettuce, chicory 

 and corn-salad. The Dectici scarcely touch 

 it with a contemptuous tooth. It is not the 

 food for them. 



Perhaps something tough would suit their 

 strong mandibles better. I try various 

 Graminaceae, including the glaucous panic- 

 grass, the miauco of the Provencal peasant, 

 the Setaria glauca of the botanists, a weed 

 that infests the fields after the harvest. The 

 panic-grass is accepted by the hungry ones, 

 but it is not the leaves that they devour : they 

 attack only the ears, of which they crunch 

 the still tender seeds with visible satisfaction. 

 The food is found, at least for the time 

 being. We shall see later. 



In the morning, when the rays of the sun 

 visit the cage placed in the window of my 

 study, I serve out the day's ration, a sheaf 

 of green spikes of common grass picked 

 outside my door. The Dectici come running 

 up to the handful, gather round it and, very 

 peaceably, without quarrelling among them- 

 selves, dig with their mandibles between the 

 bristles of the spikes to extract and nibble 

 the unripe seeds. Their costume makes one 



