The Chorus of the Forest 



love. Then some change comes, and an effort is 

 made to remove them to a different location and 

 atmosjihere. They end the same as deep forest 

 flowers brought into the strong light of yard and 

 garden; only as a rule people pine and die more 

 quickly. 



A few bees humming around the foxglove set 

 me to watching for insect musicians. The pale 

 flowers of deep forest ^\el•e not attractive as was The 

 the growth outside. There was only an occasional Locust's 

 butterfly. But there were millions of other insects 

 singing everywhere around us, and the leaders were 

 the locusts. Sometimes they flew so close, making 

 music on wing, that we dodged and our ears rang. 

 We caught several and examined them, and in- 

 duced one to pose for us on a locust tree. They 

 are an inch and a half in length, a rare green color 

 with brown markings, and have large eyes, a stout, 

 sharp tongue, silvery white legs, and long wing- 

 shields, appearing as if cut from thinnest isinglass, 

 the shorter true wing beneath. 



These wingshields are divided into small sec- 

 tions by veins that hold the transparent parts se- 

 curely, and the outer edge has a stout rim. Using 

 these rims for their strings, the crisp sj^ace for 

 sounding-boards, and the femur of the hind legs 

 for bows, the locust amazed us by not singing at 

 all, for he fiddled away gayly as he led the insect 

 orchestra. As far as we could hear through the 



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