OUR CUBAN GUESTS 



I was called from my work one morn- 

 ing, by my little daughter, shouting, 

 "Oh, mamma. Cousin Walter has sent 

 you something from Cuba !" I hastened 

 to open the packages ; there were two ; 

 the first contained several fern plants, 

 which were received with great joy, they 

 were so unlike our native ferns. When 

 the next package, which proved to be a 

 round tin box, was opened, there seemed 

 to be nothing but decayed wood. We 

 thought he had sent us some "fox fire," 

 when suddenly it seemed to be alive and 

 the children shouted, "Bugs ! bugs !" and 

 out walked three "Lightning Spring 

 Beetles," very happy indeed to stretch 

 their legs, say nothing of their wings, 

 after a whole week's confinement on 

 their long journey from Cuba. There 

 were four in the party when they left 

 Cuba but one died on the way, doubtless 

 from sea-sickness. One had parts of two 

 legs missing, but did not in the least mind 

 so little a thing, but rushed about just as 

 lively as the others. 



They were members of the family 

 ElateridcB, having the habit, when laid on 

 their backs, of giving a sudden upward 

 spring by a quick movement of the ar- 

 ticulation between the abdomen and the 

 thorax. This performance was a great 

 amusement to all, especially the children, 

 and has given the common names of 

 Click Beetles, Spring Beetles, Snapping 

 Bugs, etcetera, to members of the family. 

 The largest of these beetles was very 

 nearly two inches long; the others were 

 one and one half inches. They are of a 

 dark brown color, not the shiny, polished 

 surface that many beetles have, but look- 

 ing very much as if they had been dipped 

 in a light brown powder. On each side 

 of the thorax, quite near the abdomen, 

 were two circular spots that looked like 

 pale yellow spots when the beetles were 

 quietly resting, but when aroused, and as 

 it grew dark, they gave out a brilliant 

 greenish light like two shining emeralds ; 

 they also emitted the same bright light 



from the under segments of the abdomen, 

 the segments seemed to fold back, dis- 

 playing a brilliant emerald light as large 

 as a pea, which radiated the light to 

 some distance. A letter came with them 

 saying their favorite food was decayed 

 wood, and it was surprising what a quan- 

 tity they managed to eat. Every morning 

 I would moisten the dead wood, then 

 they would eat their breakfast with ap- 

 parent relish, then crawl under the pieces 

 as best they could and for the most part 

 would remain very quiet throughout the 

 day, but when twilight came they were 

 very active, fairly rushing about their 

 room, which was a wooden box cover, 

 securely covered with a wire screen, 

 which years ago kept the flies from our 

 food. Each evening before lighting the 

 lamps, we would remove the screen and 

 allow them to go about the room. They 

 were almost sure to pause on the edge 

 of the cover and open and close their 

 wings displaying to the very best advan- 

 tage all their emerald lights. They evi- 

 dently enjoyed travelling over the carpet 

 and would rapidly pass from one side 

 of the room to another, but we did not 

 fear of losing them as they carried such 

 bright lights we could easily follow their 

 course. They would often crawl over 

 each other and over the same piece of 

 food but never seemed to show the least 

 disposition to quarrel. When put on the 

 cool, marble topped table they immedi- 

 ately put out all their lights and refused 

 to move until put in a warmer place. 

 After three weeks of our September 

 weather, the one with the broken legs 

 died, and a week later the largest one 

 found a crack under the screen where he 

 could get out. In the morning he was no- 

 where to be found and although we 

 formed a searching party and searched 

 the whole house, we did not find him for 

 several months and then he was dead. 

 The poor lone one must have missed his 

 friends or his warm southern home, for 

 he too lived but a few days alone. Per- 



is? 



