VOCAL ¢& INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC OF INSECTS. 381 
sun brought to Murree the sweep of the south-west monsoon and 
the dripping days of July and August; but I should imagine the 
chaunt of ‘‘ Taza-bi-Taza!”’ is not there so imperative, as many 
of these Oriental Cicadas possess a tyrant beauty in their suits 
of brown bestarred with gold and streaked with sunset hues; 
nor does it follow that because a Cicada is big and clumsy it is 
necessarily more noisy, for some of those with covered and con- 
cealed kettledrums have them inefficiently developed. 
In the spring of 1896, Miss Swinton, of Warsash, who long 
maintained a village school, and in memory of whom a chapel 
was recently erected, gave me an introduction to a Mr. Joseph, a 
well-known missionary of German extraction, then residing at 
Jerusalem, which I had the common wish to see. I then took 
the train to Brindisi and crossed to Patras. The thick-warbled 
notes of the Nightingale did not resound from the evergreen oaks 
in the gardens at Athens, but I have listened to a splendid concert 
at Toulouse. All I saw of the Ilissus was a gutter in a back 
street, so-called. The towers and row of windmills that lined 
the port of Rhodes carried the imagination back some four or 
five hundred years. At Jaffa there was a talk of Sharks, and I 
was told that packs of Jackals, to whose tails, lashed together, 
Samson tied firebrands, came and howled of a winter night. 
There must have been a fine conflagration, for the fire consumed 
the shocks, standing corn, vineyards, and olives. As I passed 
over the plain of Sharon there was a fine glow of common 
poppies, called ‘‘Shaarari,’” and, coming to Lydda at noon, I 
saw the mirage creep round it like the inflowing tide, until its 
ruined church and ilex-bushes seemed to stand on an island, and 
the camels to come splashing through the water.. Jerusalem, 
the waterless, lies on the top of a long line of hillocky limestone 
downs that at first sight resemble those you have left behind 
you at Dorking, in Surrey. No Lion now comes there from the 
swelling of the Jordan, and it would seem the sporting Crusaders 
heard the last one roar at Samaria. Once a large grey animal 
ran ruffling past me on the hills that stand about Jerusalem. I 
believe it was a Hyena. Anacreon thought the Cicada a king, 
and Meleager, reclining beneath the plane-tree of Gadara, found 
consolation in the notes of one that was making merry on the 
sap, when the sun in summer leaves the Bermuda grass alone . 
