The Cricket: the Burrow 



the fields, stopped in front of the hermit's 

 cabin! However light your footfall, he has 

 heard you coming and has abruptly with- 

 drawn to the very bottom of his hiding- 

 place. When you arrive, the threshold of 

 the house is deserted. 



Everybody knows the way to bring the 

 skulker out. You insert a straw and move 

 it gently about the burrow. Surprised at 

 what is happening above, tickled and teased, 

 the Cricket ascends from his secret apart- 

 ment; he stops in the passage, hesitates and 

 enquires into things by waving his delicate 

 antennae; he comes to the light and, once 

 outside, he is easy to catch, so greatly have 

 events puzzled his poor head. Should he be 

 missed at the first attempt^ he may become 

 more suspicious and obstinately resist the 

 titillation of the straw. In that case, we 

 can flood him out with a glass of water. 



O those adorable times when we used to 

 cage our Crickets and feed them on a leaf 

 of lettuce, those childish hunting-trips along 

 the grassy paths ! They all come back to me 

 to-day, as I explore the burrows in search of 

 subjects for my studies; they appear to me 

 almost in their pristine freshness when my 

 companion, little Paul, already an expert in 



