I am distraught. I want to write of butterflies and moths, but I cannot make a beginning, for there sits upon the lattice of my window a cicada, whose shrill notes drive all thought from my head. Can it be that any human ever found music in this insect's rasping song? if one of them comes and settles on my Window and plays for my edification? But I cannot write of butterflies, so I must perforce _devote my time to cicadas and their kin. It matters not; the butterflies can wait and, after all, the members of the order Rhynchota are the mouth modified into the form of a long tube for piercing and sucking, hence the name. There are*two sub-orders, Hemiptera and Homoptera, the members of the former, as the name suggests, having the wings half leathery and half membraneous, those of the latter having them entirely membrancous. The cicada belongs to the Homoptera, og also do the froth. insects, or cuckoo's spit, and the plant-lice, Aphides, or green-flies. The remarkable lantern fly, or Fulgora, about which more later It is claimed that the Chinese love just as interesting as those of the lon, also belongs to this group, a6 the song of the cicada, and to judge from the way one sees small boys hunting the creatures in the trees with long bamboos and nets, one might well believe it. Still, to ignorant Westerners it is incomprehensible that any human_ being short of a pure savage of the jungle could willingly submit his ears the torture of the scissors-grinder's love song. Yet the an-dents appear to have appreciated the insect's musical efforts, for we have Anacreon's ode, ably translate ed by Green, the which I have culled from the pages of an old book, classic now, and rare withal. Listen Happy creature! What. below Can more happy live than thou? Seated on thy leafy throne (Summer weaves the verdant crown) Sipping o'er the pearly lawn The fragrant nectar of the dawn; Little tales thou lov'st to sing, Ta'es of mirth—an insect king; Thino the treasures of the field, All thy own the season's yield; Nature paints for thee the year, Songstér to the shepherds dear Innocent, of placid fame, What of man can boast the same? Thino the lavished voice of praise, Harbinger of fruitful days; Darling of the tuneful nine, Phabus is thy sire divine; Phebus to thy notes has given Music from the spheres of heaven Happy most, as first of earth, Cares nor pains to thee belong, Thou alone art ever young Thine the pure immortal vein, Blood nor flesh thy life sustain; Rich in spirits—health thy feast; Thou'rt a demi-god at least.
The same book tells of an ancient legend of Greece, which runs:—Once a certain player of Locri, who wea engaged in a musical contest with a rival, broke two of the strings of his instrument. This would have cost him the victory, but for the fact that a cicada set-tied upon his instrument and began singing with such power and sweet-ress that victory was given to the man of Locri. So grateful were the Locrians to the cicada that they erected a statue in token thereof representing the player with the insect upon his instru. ment.
The cynic might remark that this constitutes a very interesting and significant commentary upon the playing and music of the ancient Grecians, but the story is a pretty one, and who shall say that there is no music in the cicada's song? If, then, the ancients of Greece and the Chinese of to-day can appreciate this insect's instrumental per formances, who am I to find fault HoMOoPTEROUS MEMBERS OF THE ORD ER Rhynchota. 1, Wax-insecT FLYING: PUPA ON LEAF, Parr or tance Brack Cicapas
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.