232 STUDIES IN THE FIELD AND FOKEST. 



musicians, all engaged in uttering their peculiar note, 

 seems more like the hammering of a thousand little 

 smiths in some busy hamlet of insects. There is noth- 

 ing melodious in these sounds, and they are accordingly 

 less suggestive of poetical thoughts than those of the 

 green nocturnal grasshopper, that is heard at the same 

 hour and in similar situations. 



The nocturnal grasshoppers, sometimes called August 

 pipers, commence their chirping about the second week 

 in August. These are the true nightingales of insects, 

 and the tribe that seems to me most worthy of being 

 consecrated to poetry. There is a singular plaintive- 

 ness in their low and monotonous notes, which is the 

 charm of the late summer and early autumnal evenings; 

 and there are but few persons who are not affected, by 

 these sounds, with a remarkable sensation of subdued 

 but cheerful melancholy. This effect does not seem to 

 be the result of association, so much as that of some 

 peculiar cadence or modulation of the sound. 



The notes of these nocturnal pipers are most com- 

 monly in unison, and accurately timed, as if they were 

 singing in concert. They are the loudest singers of our 

 indigenous insects, and it is worthy of notice, that they 

 always vary their key-note, according to the temperature 

 of the atmosphere, within certain degrees. They are 

 evidently dependent on a certain amount of heat for 

 their vivacity, and become more or less torpid, as the 

 temperature of the atmosphere sinks below a certain 

 point. Having noticed this fact at different times, I 

 was induced to make a series of exact observations a 

 few years since, by noticing the height of the mercury 

 in Fahrenheit's thermometer, and at the same time find- 

 ing the key upon which these insects were chirping. 

 My observations were commenced early in August, and 



