very long feelers waving to the tips of the wings, you will know that
this is a grasshopper. All this brown and black and crimson splendor is
the Old Man of the Meadow, with a very fine coat.
The grasshopper is not migratory. It does not change its home. It dies
near where it was born. Frost and cold kill it. It does not outlive the
winter, as butterflies, bees, and wasps do.
Grasshoppers appear in great numbers, but they do not go in swarms as
locusts do.
Each grasshopper lives alone. He does nothing for his neighbor, and his
neighbor does nothing for him.
When grasshoppers are numerous they damage the grass and the young
crops.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] See Nature Reader, No. 2. Lessons on Ants.
LESSON XVIII.
THE ROBBER COUSIN.
The Old Man of the Meadow is, in his way, like a quiet country
gentleman. He roams about the fields, and likes to sing, and is fond
of moonlight. He likes the shade, and the cool, still places under the
green herbs.
He has a fierce cousin, who is a great robber, a kind of land pirate.
His name is _locust_.
I asked a class of boys, “What is a locust?” One said: “It is a great,
big grasshopper.”
Another said: “It is a greedy grasshopper that eats everything.”
A third said: “A locust is a grasshopper that travels in swarms.”
Now these were pretty good answers. Each had some truth in it. A locust
is _not_ a grasshopper. But it is much like a grasshopper. It is his
very near relative.
The locust is not always larger than the grasshopper. The great green,
or the wart-biter grasshopper, is larger than the Rocky Mountain
locust. That locust is called “the hateful,” because he does so much
harm.
The locust is generally larger than the grasshopper, and one very big
locust is much larger than any grasshopper that ever was known. And,
too, the locust is much more greedy.
The locust destroys all plants that come in its way. It will eat the
bark off the trees.
Locusts live and move in swarms. Instead of living and dying in the
places where they were born, they are given to travel. They migrate
like the birds you will read of in this book.
It is not quite surely known what is the motive for their journeys.
Probably it is to get food. The locust is the child of hot lands. His
first home was, no doubt, in the great sandy plains of Asia. He is very
common in Africa. In Europe and the eastern part of the United States
he is not very common. In the Western States he has done much damage.
If you take up a locust to examine, you will at once notice that his
feelers are much shorter than those of the grasshopper. Mrs. Locust
also is without the sword for placing her eggs. She lays them in the
earth in long tubes.
The front of the locust’s head is harder and thicker than the
grasshoppers. The hind legs are also much thicker and stronger than
even the big strong ones of the grasshopper.
The locust’s coat is of light brown or sand color. There is a delicate
green tinge on the wings. The breast has a soft vest of down. The legs
are often striped in bands of brown and yellow.
The locust does not make his music as the grasshopper does. When he
wishes to sing, Mr. Locust stands on his two front pairs of legs. Then
he lifts his hind legs, and draws them one by one, or both together,
over his wings.
The inner side of the hind legs has rough file-like edges. The wings
have thick veins, which stand like cords above the wing surface.
The file parts of the legs rub on these cords, and produce the sound.
The sound takes different tones, as one or both legs are used at a time
in making it. Sometimes the sound is very loud, sometimes it is very
low.
In the latter part of the summer, Mrs. Locust lays her eggs, fifty or
one hundred together, in a tube hidden in the earth. In places where
locusts do much harm, rewards are given for baskets full of these
tubes. Many boys make a living by digging them from the earth, and
selling them to be destroyed.
For you must know that locusts being very greedy, and very numerous, do
much harm. They move quickly, and in great swarms. Though they live in
swarms they have no queen as the bees have, and they do no work as bees
and ants do.
Probably there is no living thing seen in such numbers as the locusts.
We can scarcely believe or understand what we are told about the
multitudes of these insects which appear in the East.
They fill the sky like a great cloud, so that the day is darkened.
When they see a green place, they settle to feed. In a few minutes
the green is all gone. The place is as brown and bare as if a fire had
swept over it.
People hear with terror that the locusts are coming. They know the
crops will be eaten up. Then food will be scarce, and the people will
be poor.
If by chance a swarm is destroyed by other means than by fire, all the
air for miles will be filled with the bad smell of the decaying bodies.
The only good that poor people can get from the locusts is by eating
them. They pull off the wings, and legs, and dry the bodies. They eat
them fried in oil and salt, or ground into meal, after roasting.
The locusts cannot fly against the wind. They go with the wind. It
brings them, and if it changes, it sweeps them away. Sometimes the wind
drives them out to sea. If they become too weary to fly, they drop into
the waves and are drowned. This often happens. Then the water washes
their bodies ashore. The coast of Africa has been found covered thick
with them, for the space of fifty miles.
But they do not always drop into the sea. They are very strong on the
wing. A great swarm of locusts was met by a ship, twelve hundred miles
from shore. They surrounded the ship, and hid the sun.
As their flight is so strong, locusts can go from one country to
another. They pass from Africa to the south of Europe. They go from the
mainland to the islands.
Usually the locusts fly during the day, while the air is hot and dry.
Late in the day they settle to feed, and where they stop they stay
until all green things are eaten up. Of course they do not feed when on
the wing. They run along the ground to eat.
People try many ways of killing locusts. Sometimes deep trenches are
cut, and filled with water, so that the young unwinged locusts, as they
run along the ground, will fall in and be drowned. But the locusts
are in such numbers that the drowned ones soon fill the trenches. The
others run safely over the dead bodies.
Sometimes great fires are lit across their path. Then the hordes of
locusts crowd on, and at last, the fires are put out by the burned
bodies. After that, the others pass on unhurt.
You must know that the young locust is quite as greedy, and as great
a terror as his parents. In the larval and pupal states, they migrate
as well as when they have wings. They seem born to eat and to travel.
At this stage they go by walking. They march in a solid column like
soldiers. They move straight on, nothing turning them aside. Is a house
in the way? Over it and into it they go. You know some ants move in
swarms in this way.[15]
The locust, being larger, more numerous, and more greedy than the ants,
do much harm. If they find a town in their path, through it they go.
Countless numbers may be killed, but there are countless numbers to
follow. Is a river in the way? Into it they tumble, and when enough
dead bodies lie on the water to make a raft, the other locusts pass
safely over.
One great trouble about the locust is, that when a full-grown swarm
passes through a place the ground is left full of eggs. The next year
these hatch, and the larvæ and pupæ eat up all that has grown since
their parents ravaged the land.
Famines of two or three years duration have been caused in this way.
You will not wonder at the strength of locusts and the amount of food
they need, when I tell you that one kind is quite a foot broad from tip
to tip of the wings.
The great foreign locusts are very splendid to look at. They are
dressed like soldiers in crimson and blue. Their fierce eyes shine, and
the rush of their wings makes a sound like the coming of an army.
Did I not give this locust a good name, when I called him the robber
cousin?
FOOTNOTES:
[15] See Nature Reader, No. 2. Lessons on Ants.
LESSON XIX.
THE MERRY COUSINS.
You have heard about the robber cousin of the Old Man of the Meadow.
Now you shall hear about a very happy and harmless little cousin. Here
he is!
Did you ever meet him in your walks? Did he ever come creeping out of a
hole in the wall, or from a chink in the bricks in the hearth, and sit
down by you before the fire?
Did you notice how he waved his long feelers gently in the heat, and
seemed to bask in the glow as pussy does? If you were very still,
perhaps all at once he burst into a shrill, gay little song.
Did you notice what a shining, dark-brown coat he had? Did you see that
his tail had two long, stiff hairs, or bristles, spread out from each
other? Did you think that they were like the long tail hairs of the
bright and dainty May-fly?[16]
When you saw all this did you know your little friend well? Did you
call him by his name, “How are you, Mr. Cricket”?
Ah, the cricket is a right-jolly little fellow; let us take a good look
at him.
There are three kinds of crickets which we shall talk about. The house
cricket, the field cricket, the mole cricket.
The body of the cricket is not so slender as that of the grasshopper,
it is short and thick. It is much the shape of the first joint of your
thumb. The color is a dark, glossy brown, sometimes almost black.
The feelers are very long, longer than the whole body. The eyes are
large and round. The under wings are very large, much larger than the
wing-cases. When they are folded up, they reach out beyond the covers
and the body, in a long needle-like roll. It looks as if Mr. Cricket
were carrying home something under his arm.
Near where the wing cover joins his body, Mr. Cricket has a little,
thin drum-head for his music. He is very fond of making a noise. The
French call him “Cri-cri”[17] from the sound he makes. We call him
“cricket” for the same reason.
The cricket has strong jaws, sharp teeth, and a thick round tongue. His
feet are not broad and thick, like the grasshopper’s. He does not run
up plants as the grasshopper does. The cricket runs about the ground.
He has sharp, thin feet. Sometimes they have stiff hairs on them.
As he runs about the ground, his long feelers warn him of any danger in
front. What do you think he has to tell him of danger behind? He has
that pair of long, stiff tail hairs, which look so much like feelers.
Mrs. Cricket does not sing. It is Mr. Cricket that makes all the noise.
How does he make it? He has three strong veins under his left wing
cover. The largest of these is rough, like a file. This vein he uses as
a man uses the bow of a violin.
When the rough vein is drawn across the right wing cover, all the cover
trembles, or quivers, and gives out a sound, as when the bow is drawn
over the strings of a violin.
The field cricket will sing all day. The house and mole crickets sing
only at night.
Field crickets and house crickets are very much alike. The field
cricket is darker than the house cricket. He is also noisy by day. In
the winter he creeps into the earth and is torpid, unless the early
cold kills him.
I think house crickets are field crickets that have taken to living in
doors. So, in course of time, they have changed a little. But they were
all field crickets once.
Crickets are fond of moisture. They are thirsty creatures. They will
drink any liquid left in their way. They drink water, milk, soup, tea,
beer, vinegar, yeast. I have known them to come to my ink bottle to try
to drink the ink! But that killed them!
Crickets eat vegetables. They like potato. They are greedy, and will
eat whatever is in their way. They eat bread crumbs, soft grease, and
are very fond of meat. They catch and eat small insects. They eat
leather. Also they will eat woollen cloth, stockings, clothes.
Once our cook laid upon the grass a large piece of woollen blanket, on
which she had spilled some bread sponge. She left it there thirty-six
hours. When she went for it, the crickets had eaten nearly all of it.
It was so full of holes it was like a net. There were more holes than
there was blanket.
Crickets do not like to change their homes. They prefer to stay near
where they were born. If you carry them away they will use their big
wings to get home. Unless they fly to move from home to home, they do
not use their big wings very much. They walk, or hop.
The poets and story-tellers are very fond of crickets. Many people
think it is lucky to have them sing in the hearth. But there is no luck
about it. It is very pleasant and cheery to hear them sing.
In hot weather the house cricket sometimes goes into the garden to
live. In October he comes in, and finds a home in the house-wall. He
likes new houses where the mortar is not too hard for him to pull some
of it out and make his little home. He chooses the kitchen and other
well-warmed rooms to live in.
If the house is shut up and without fires for some days the cricket
becomes torpid. What do you suppose these little fellows did before
they found men to build houses for them?
In houses they keep quiet all day. They are timid things. Perhaps
they sleep. At night they come out. One wise old man who wrote about
crickets said that the tiny, new crickets came out on the hearth-stone
by hundreds. They were about the size of fleas. He found all sizes at
the same time. So he thought that they hatch at any time if they live
in a warm place.
The field cricket makes his house in the earth. He seeks a hot, sunny
spot. Then he digs out a hole with his strong jaws. This hole is often
from six to twelve inches deep.
The cricket is very timid and runs into his hole if any one comes by.
But if he is not afraid, he sits in the door of his house to catch
insects that come near. He also eats leaves and grass, that grow about
his door.
Little French children fish for crickets by tying an ant to a thread
and dropping it into the hole. You can also make Mr. Cricket come out,
by poking a blade of grass into his hole. He runs up to see what is the
matter.
Down in the bottom of the hole, Mrs. Cricket lays her eggs. They are
fastened to each other, and to the ground by a kind of glue. She lays
about three hundred eggs each year. She does not put them all in one
place.
As soon as the larvæ come out of the eggs, they run up to the top of
the ground. Each one then begins to dig a new burrow. Now and then they
get tired of a burrow, and go off to make a new one.
The little crickets in the larva and pupa state look much like the
grown ones, only they have no wings. When they are about half-grown,
they hop about, and look, and act, much like tiny toads. If the
crickets come out of the egg in July, they will reach the perfect state
the next May.
When they are full grown, they have wings, and can play a tune. They
like that. They sit in their doors and sing.
In Spain, the people like the cricket’s song so much that they keep
crickets in little cages, to sing for them. If they have plenty to eat
and drink, they will sing and be happy.
Each cricket will need a cage all for himself. Two crickets shut up
together will fight, until one is killed. Crickets always live alone.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] See Nature Reader, No. 2. “Child of an Hour.”
[17] Pronounced _cree-cree_.
LESSON XX.
A QUEER CRICKET.
When you are out in the woods, you may find a very small, brown
cricket, in the moist places at the roots of trees. That is the wood
cricket.
The most curious of all the crickets is the mole cricket. The mole
cricket is the stoutest and largest of all the cricket family. He takes
his name from the little furry, mouse-like animal that burrows in the
ground,--the mole.
The mole cricket is something like the mole in shape, and in the shape
of its front feet. It is very like the mole in its ways.
Mole crickets in the larva and pupa state are like their parents in
looks and habits. They lack only the wings. The wings of mole crickets
are short. They open and close them at each stroke when they fly. This
makes them fly with a wave-like motion. Now they go up, now they drop
down.
[Illustration: A HAPPY FAMILY.]
The mole cricket sings only at night. It does not make such loud music
as the field cricket.
The most curious thing about the mole cricket is its front feet. They
are broad and short, and have toes. They look like a mole’s front feet.
They also look like the glove, or hand part, of a little suit of armor.
These hands are made for digging. The mole cricket burrows along under
the ground as a mole does. Have you seen the long, low ridge of earth
the mole makes in field or garden? The mole cricket’s furrow is like
that, only much smaller.
The mole cricket eats the roots of vegetables, as he goes along under
ground. He is fond of peas, beans, and beets. He will eat the roots of
flowers, also. He is a plague in a garden. He likes, also, to live near
a stream or canal. He is very fond of damp places.
The mole cricket neither flies nor sings by day. If dug out of his
burrow, he seems very stupid and helpless. At evening, he tries to
comfort himself by a low, jarring song.
The mole cricket has a hard, shell-like body. Its legs also are horny.
For this reason, one of its names is the “earth crab.” It is of a
lighter color than the other crickets.
Mrs. Mole Cricket makes a very pretty nest. It is the size and shape
of half an egg, cut lengthwise. It is put very near the surface of the
ground. Then the rays of the sun can warm the eggs.
Mrs. Cricket makes her nest soft and smooth. Then she puts into it
about one hundred eggs. The eggs are in a tough skin, not a shell. They
are of a gray-yellow color. The earth above the nest often looks like
an ant-hill.
Mrs. Cricket does not cease her care for her eggs, when they are put
into the nest. There are some kinds of beetles that eat these eggs.
Mrs. Cricket digs round and round her nest a network of halls. She
hopes the beetle will get lost when he comes to look for her eggs.
After the eggs are laid, and the halls are all made, what do you think
Mrs. Cricket does? She sits in one of her halls. She listens for Mr.
Beetle or any other enemy. When he comes, she runs out to attack him.
She fights so bravely that she drives him away.
At night, when the mole cricket is flying about, its body sometimes
shines like fire. You know the firefly shines. But the firefly gives
forth its light in flashes. The glow-worm has a steady light.
The mole cricket does not always shine. But some have been found to do
so. People who have seen these big, bright things flying in the dark,
have been so foolish as to get frightened.
I hope if you think of being afraid at any time, you will first make
sure what it is that you are afraid of. The mole cricket is nothing to
fear, even when he shines.
I think the reason that his body has been found to shine sometimes is
this. He spends his time digging among dead wood and leaves. Sometimes
he digs about dead animals.
Now, no doubt, there are times when in this work his body gets covered
with a fire-shining stuff,[18] that comes among dead things. Then when
he comes, fresh from his work, his body glows, and he shines as he
flies. After a little, the shining matter wears off, and he shines no
more.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] The teacher might give examples of phosphorescent light.
LESSON XXI.
OTHER HOPPERS.
One day, when I was a child, I went to play in a field, with my
brother. I saw that many blades of grass had little balls of foam on
them. My brother said, “The horses have been eating here; this froth is
from their mouths.”
But when I had looked a little longer, I said, “There are no horses in
this pasture. This grass has not been bitten.”
A man who came by, said, “Ah, that is cuckoo spit. The cuckoos dropped
it from their mouths.” When the man had gone, I said, “Our father told
me we had no cuckoos near here. And birds do not drop froth from their
bills.”
A little French boy, who had followed the man, said, “How silly that
man is! That is frog spit! Frogs make it, not cuckoos.” I told him,
“There are no frogs in this field. I do not see one. But the froth is
all over the grass.”
“Since no one can suit you,” said my brother, “you had better find out
for yourself.”
Then I took a leaf and laid on it some grass blades with the foam balls
on them. And I gently opened the balls with a grass stem.
Oh here was a queer sight! Here was a little, live, pale, green thing.
It had two tiny, black eyes, two little feelers, a body shaped like a
three-cornered wedge.
“See, see!” I cried. “These balls are cradles! The grasshopper has made
these beds for her babies. Here is a wee grasshopper in each one.”
But it is very easy to be mistaken. I was wrong, too. For these little
things were not grasshoppers, and they had made their foam balls for
themselves.
Looking closer, we saw that the little green thing held fast by its
head to the grass stem.
Then we saw that the foam ball being made of bubbles, changed and
broke. You know bubbles do not last long. These tiny bubbles slowly
broke, and a clear drop of water ran to the bottom of the ball.
When the drop grew large, it fell off. Then another formed in its place.
We did not need to think long to be sure that the little hopper sucked
sap, or juice, from the grass. This sap not only fed it, but ran
through its body, and made its foam cloak, or bed. This kept it safe
and warm.
When we learned more of these things, we found that these were not
grasshoppers. They belong to another order of insects. I tell you about
them now, lest you make the mistake that I did.
These insects are hoppers. Frog-hoppers some call them. Their hind legs
are very strong. They make great leaps for their size.
There are a number of odd insects in this order.[19] They are very
unlike each other, except in the wings. It is called the order of the
same-wings, because the upper and under wings are alike. Only the upper
ones are longer.
In this order you will find some of the fireflies. You know them. They
fly about over the grass on summer nights. They make pretty little
fireworks for you, before you go to bed.
The little aphis, which spoils the roses, is of this order. You know
the ants keep the aphis for their cow, and eat the sweet juice it
makes.[20]
We will look at only two of this family. We want to know a little about
this wee frog-hopper. And we will learn a little about his biggest
cousin, the cicada, or “the singer.”
The hoppers have, also, a queer little cousin, the scale bug. The
hopper draws out the plant sap, and covers its body with water. The
scale bug turns the same sap into white dust. It covers its funny
little body all over with flour!
Frog-hoppers are small insects. They have long feelers. They have only
two joints in their feet. The frog-hopper has a big eye on each side of
its head. It has, also, three simple eyes set on the top of its head,
like this ⛬
All the hoppers live on plant juice. The little ones are very greedy.
The mother lays her tiny eggs in the plant. When the larvæ come out
they fasten their mouths on the skin of the plant, and begin to suck
sap.
This bite of the hopper often makes ugly brown holes, or ridges, come
on plants. Often the plants become sickly, and die, from loss of sap.
The hoppers are not good friends of the plants, as the bees, ants,
wasps, and birds are.
The largest of the same-wing order is the cicada. Did you ever hear him
sing? Mrs. Cicada is quiet. Her mate sings all day. The hotter it is,
and the drier, the more he sings. In all lands he is named from his
noise, “the singer,” “the screamer,” “the squealer.”
The cicada is a dry, horny insect. He will keep well in a cabinet. He
lives in trees. Mrs. Cicada has no music, but she has a sharp knife.
How does she use that?
We might as well call her knife an awl, or a gimlet, for it is like all
three. It is used to cut, or bore, a hole in the tree. Into the hole
she puts her eggs.
This tool which Mrs. Cicada carries has three blades. The outer ones
are rough on the edges. They can cut into very hard wood. Mrs. Cicada
takes hold of the tree bark with her front feet. Then she cuts away
with her knife, until she has made a neat little furrow.
She chooses a dead branch for this. The sap in a live branch would harm
her eggs.
When the larvæ come out of the eggs, they at once leave the hole, and
drop to the ground. There they dig a little house for a home. Their
fore feet are well made for digging.
Underground they feed on roots. They change from larvæ to pupæ. Next
summer they come up, full-grown. Then Mr. Cicada begins his song. Mrs.
Cicada at once goes to work to cut holes for her eggs.