26 WAYS OF THE SIX-FOOTED 



accented, "Ka'-ty did'." But wlien studied more 

 closely we are not sure whether the accent is in the 

 music or in the listener's imagination; and, finally, in 

 bewilderment we simply accept the fact that somehow 

 there is a delightful rhythm in it and cease trying to 

 analyze it. We also note that this singer's vivacity is 

 dependent upon warm temperature. 



So far as we know, this snowy tree-cricket is the 

 only one of the insect musicians that seems conscious 

 of the fact that he belongs to an orchestra. If you 

 listen on a September evening, you will hear the first 

 player begin ; soon another will join, but not in har- 

 mony at first. For some time there may be a see-saw 

 of accented and unaccented notes ; but after a while 

 the two will be in unison ; perhaps not, however, 

 until many more players have joined the concert. 

 When the rhythmical beat is once established it is in as 

 perfect time as if governed by the baton of a Damrosch 

 or a Thomas. The " throbbing of the cricket heart of 

 September" it has been fitly named. Sometimes an 

 injudicious player joins the chorus at the wrong beat, but 

 he soon discovers his error and rectifies it. Sometimes, 

 also, late at night, one part of the orchestra in an 

 orchard gets out of time with the majority, and discord 

 may continue for some moments, as if the players were 

 too cold and too sleepy to pay good attention. This 



