Songs of the Fields 



Thej^ are cleanly, else tliey would not be wash- 

 ing forever. It almost appears at times as if they 

 nmst carry a Lady jNIacbeth cin-se, that they try The Field 

 to wash away. Thev wash their antennae, heads, " ,^\^'^' 



' * . Baby 



bodies, wings, each of their four small feet, and 

 then the long, springboard legs and larger feet. 

 jVfter a few bites of pollen, plant- juice, or any 

 dead insects ujjon which they may happen, they 

 A\'ash again. They are the genuine "water babies" 

 of the fields, and the most insistent musicians. 

 Sometimes they like the open fields, but a little 

 search among the grasses and flowers around the 

 old snake-fences will prove hoppers even more nu- 

 merous there. This may be because the rails and 

 bushes afford protection from bird enemies. 



The unusually wet season of 1907 did manj^ 

 queer things afield, none more amazing than the 

 growth it made possible among some flowers of 

 low habit. Botanists tell you that beard-tongue 

 (Pentstemon piihesccns) grows from one foot to 

 a foot and a third. At that height to the casual 

 observer it is almost lost among the grasses and 

 undergrowth. This season many people called 

 my attention to a delicately colored, lacy, exquisite 

 flower they never before had seen. It was beard- 

 tongue, growing all through the Limber lost, along 

 Canoper Avay, in Rainbow Bottom, and around the 

 fields, to the height of the top of seven-rail fences. 

 It sj^rang up a smooth, thrifty stalk, grew slender 

 '* 209 



