The Mole-cricket and its Habits. — I send you 

 herewith, Mr. Editor, a curious-looking but very 

 handsome insect, brought me this morning by 

 some boys. I am particularly anxious to know 

 the name of it, and also its peculiarities. Will 

 you be so obliging as to furnish me with the 

 same ? The details cannot fail to be generally 

 interesting. — W. J. M., Cornwall. 



[Your favor has arrived safe. Owing to the 

 heat, it gave forth an odor not precisely " sweet." 

 On removing the lid of the box, we found my 

 little gentleman quite curled up and highly 

 dried, but his identity could not be thereby con- 

 cealed. Had he been sent up in a vial of spirits 

 of turpentine, he would have smelt less savory 

 perhaps, but his proportions would have been 

 more clearly defined. The particulars you desire 

 have been very kindly furnished by our prince 

 of entomologists, Bombyx Atlas. We hardly 

 need say, therefore, with what zest they will be 

 read. — " The insect you have sent me, Mr. Editor, 

 is the Mole Cricket (Grillotalpa vulgaris). The 

 French call it Taupe grillon. It is, I believe, 

 pretty generally distributed over the South of 

 Europe, but more sparingly so in the north. It 

 is assuredly a very destructive creature. I admit 

 that it destroys a large quantity of vermin; but 

 when forming its subterranean retreat, it gnaws 

 through any and everything that comes in its 

 way; possessing the power of removing all 

 obstacles that impede it with a ready wit and 

 herculean strength. We cannot give the fellow 

 an over-good character ; for, among other of his 

 ' fancies,' he takes a fancy to our lawns, im- 

 mediately contiguous to our flower-borders. 

 Under these he directs his passage, cutting off in 

 his travels all such young roots as may impede 

 his mining propensities ; thus at once destroying, 

 on some occasions, the brightest hopes of the 

 florist. The rogue may sometimes be heard 

 making a horrid, shrill, continuous, loud, half- 

 whistling half-chirping sound at the bottom of 

 his den, more especially towards evening. On 

 such occasions, if you move very slowly and 

 stealthily, and are fortunate enough to be able to 

 trace the bending of his gallery, you may with 

 one coup de pelle dexterously applied, often 

 secure him. Another mode of capture is (slow, 

 but sure), to find the hole leading to his den, and 

 then to pour down it a small quantity of common 

 oil. Now watch the chap's proceedings! In a 

 few minutes he will come up in a ' fix,' and 

 waddle out on terra firma as neat a picture as 

 you can imagine; the colors being heightened 

 by oil and dirt, in which he will be found half 

 smothered. I may, by and by, give you more 

 curious details of this creature. Meantime, let 

 me observe that his race should be exterminated 

 as far as is practicable, for they are very de- 

 structive." — Bombyx Atlas, Tottenham. 



[Let us on behalf of our correspondent, as well 

 as on our own account, return our very best 

 thanks for this information.] 



Pic-nics — an Aspiration. — I am one of those 

 summer butterflies, Mr. Editor, — I mean " dear 

 Mr. Editor," who, like yourself, feel the sea- 

 sonable influences of our climate ; and I love to 

 flutter about this fair world of ours in the enjoy- 

 ment of innocent pleasures, whilst they last. 



Alas ! how soon they take to themselves wings 

 and fly away ! Reading one of your delightful 

 " Leading articles," in which you disclose which 

 way your heart lies in the matter of Pic-nics, 

 how high did my heart beat at the thought of 

 being invited as one of the honored guests in the 

 coming spread ! I am young, lively, merry, 

 joyous (entre nous, of a rosy countenance), and 

 " good." No wonder then that I love harmless 

 mirth ! In the hope that I may be fortunate in 

 this my suit (let me add, that I am of a very 

 affectionate disposition !), I plead my own cause 

 in verse. If my humble but hearty wish is to be 

 gratified, do just signify as much in two words. 

 My fond parents dote on me, and they are not a 

 little particular, I assure you, about who are my 

 associates. My muse simply utters the simple 

 wishes of my simple heart; — 



Oh, for a day to roam at will, 

 At Twickenham, or Hanger-hill; 

 With lots of friends, and better still, — 

 With the Editor of Our Journal ! 



Through Epping Forest I would stroll, 

 Enjoying all the jokes so droll 

 Of the " happy few" with a noble soul 

 Like the Editor of Our Journal! 



Now, whilst the sun's bright rays expand, 

 And the " time of Pic-nics " is at hand ; 

 Oh, for a roam by sea or land 

 With the Editor of Our Journal ! 



Pic-nic! there's magic in the word! 

 The sweetest sound I ever heard; 

 Let not this pleasure be deferr'd 

 With the Editor of Our Journal! 



In the purest enjoyment of Nature's flowers, 

 Or the calm retreat of her shady bowers, — 

 How pleasing the thought, to chat for hours 

 On the prospects of Our Journal ! 



You must not smile, Mr. Editor, at my little 

 offering of friendship, — but rate its value by its 

 sincerity. Yours, in pleasing anticipation of a 

 treat in prospective, — Clarissa, Harrow-on-the- 

 Hitl. 



[We are bound, Clarissa, to reply to all 

 questions asked of us. Common courtesy de- 

 mands this. In your case, so artlessly and so 

 prettily drawn up, our tongue is tied ; our pen 

 spell-bound. It will only write (what you are 

 already aware of), that you are " an admitted 

 guest." At an early day, way -lay the postman 

 as he mounts the hill, and demand of him, you 

 little Puss, the billet which you know he will have 

 in his hand for you. Your arrow has slain us 

 outright!] 



Ailing Canaries, and Vermin in Bird Cages. — 

 How delighted I am, Mr Editor, in having at 

 last found a real friend— one who will take the 

 trouble to explain what is asked of him, and one 

 who is so ready to do a service to folks who are 

 in trouble about their birds. [C'est assez, chere 

 Mademoiselle /] I have lately observed some of 

 my canaries look very dejected. They have 

 suddenly ceased singing, and they have sat 

 sulkily on their perches. I named this to a 

 female friend, who advised me at once to consult 

 you. I notice a number of little insects about 

 the cages. Have these, think you, anything to 



