222 THE BROOK BOOK 



legged beetle clad in dark blue armor with a yel- 

 low breast-plate. I could not help likening him 

 to a military man, his aim had been so perfect. 

 But his behavior had not been very valiant, for 

 after firing one shot he had run away as fast as 

 his legs could carry him. "He who fights and 

 runs away will live to fight another day," I said 

 as I let him go. I admired his discretion rather 

 than his valor, for he had evidently intended to 

 frighten me with his blank cartridge and to escape 

 before the smoke cleared away. 



The next one was more soldierly. Either he 

 had a greater supply of ammunition or he used 

 it more sparingly, but he certainly bombarded me 

 three times while I pursued him. With the first 

 puff of smoke I was surprised to hear a distinct 

 pop like a miniature pistol shot. The smoke 

 was ill-smelling, too. I watched him scurry away 

 and returned to my grasshoppers. But I found 

 myself repeating one of the Professor's favorite 

 quotations from Dickens "A rum thing is nature 1" 



