98 UNDER THE OPEN SKY 



beetle took his final shape. But this is in 

 the fall, and this is no time to come out. 

 During the winter he lies there perfectly 

 quiet, and in the spring begins to travel 

 about in the soil. Now comes our May day 

 with its appropriate conditions, and, as if 

 by a common impulse, out of thousands of 

 holes come the hosts of May beetles to 

 swarm about the electric lights. 



This is indeed a final experience of not 

 a few of them. Plunging blindly against 

 the shade of the light, the blow is shock 

 enough to paralyze what little wit they have, 

 and down they drop in that strange state 

 which we are apt to call "feigning death," 

 but which is simple fright paralysis. Slowly 

 they recover from this condition, and it 

 seems as if they regained the use of the legs 

 sooner than that of the wings. In any 

 event, instead of flying, away they start to 

 run. This is the fatal step. For beneath 

 the light, in anticipation of this joyous feast, 

 there has gathered a worshipful congrega- 

 tion of kneeling toads. Woe betide the un- 

 lucky beetle who allows himself to get within 



