THE REPOSE OF NATURE. 213 



worms, and such creatures as have their normal exist- 

 ence below the soil, we will just look for ourselves, and 

 try to discover a few of the hidden wonders of this 

 most wonderful earth. 



Let jis come to the feet of these elm and oak trees 

 that are planted on the bank of our lane, clear away 

 the snow, and begin to dig. In this sharp frosty 

 weather, we shall need the aid of a pickaxe or some 

 such weapon to pierce the frozen soil, but after the 

 first few strokes a trowel, or even a pocket-knife, will 

 answer tolerably well. 



The best way to dig for insects is to peck up a 

 circular patch about eighteen inches in diameter, throw 

 aside the frozen clods, and then to work carefully down- 

 wards, so as to form a conical depression in the soil. 

 We shall hardly have dug four or five inches in depth 

 when we shall come to our hidden friends. A big 

 cocktail beetle is suddenly dislodged, rolls black and 

 bewildered to the bottom of the hole, picks himself up 

 again, runs at the supposed foe with open jaws, and 

 defiant tail curled scorpionwise over his sooty back 

 falters, stops, runs on again, but slowly, as if paralysed 

 stops again, staggers, falls over and rolls back dead. 

 He has been killed by the frost, because he was roused 

 suddenly from his torpor. 



Two or three more beetles of different species come 

 tumbling out, and all meet the same fate, though not 

 so dauntlessly as the cocktail. Presently we toss out, 

 together with the mould, a brown spindle-shaped ob- 



