71 



ear, the peep of a frog, or the chirp of a cricket, is not less un- 

 pleasing than the monotonous humdrum of the savage, who rep- 

 resents now the place formerly occupied by the most cultivated 

 nations of the world. 



The cicada (or harvest-fly), improperly called '.'locust," is so 

 familiar that its description seems hardly necessary. Suffice it 

 to say, that from the middle of June to early autumn, this joyous 

 little songster is heard piping away upon the trees. 



The insects especially known to us are the trumpeter (Cicada 

 tibicen) or lyreman, as it is known in Surinam, from its noise 

 resembling the notes of a lyre, and the red-eyed cicada, or 

 seventeen-year locust (C. septendecim). There is a third (C. 

 canicularis) which appears during dog-days only. Its inferior 



The lyreman comes to us in a garb of green, and with wings 

 trimmed with the same color. The red-eyed cicada is clothed 



thought only to appear as its name indicates. But though less 



you 



the 



arvest-fly abounds (for all species of it sing in the same way) 

 ;s stridulent noise is in some instances almost deafening, and 

 lay be heard a mile off. But our cicada, I am happy to say, is 

 ot so annoying. 



The males alone are provided with the musical apparatus. This 

 act led a very satirical Greek, Zenarchos by name, to exclaim, I 



The ancients speak of them in 

 mch did they please our Greek t 

 rere kept in cages, as one would p( 



The Athenian ladies wore gold 



