Uncle Paul had placed in the lettuce bed two large pots half full of water and set into the ground flush with the surface. He said they were a trap for mole-crickets, which, from the withered appearance of some of the plants, he suspected were in the garden. One morning, on going to look into the pots, Emile found three drowned mole-crickets in them. That evening Uncle Paul told the children about these creatures.
Mole-cricket
a, adult, somewhat enlarged; b, fore foot, greatly enlarged.
“The insects Emile found in the trap,” said he, “are called mole-crickets from their habit of burrowing into the ground like moles and from their resembling in certain other ways ordinary crickets. The mole-cricket has the common cricket’s long and slender antennæ, its two flexible filaments at the end of the abdomen, and its rough wings which are rubbed against each [[386]]other so as to make a sort of singing noise. It is a formidable ravager of our gardens.”
“Do crickets really chirp with their wings?” asked Emile, in surprise.
Field Cricket
(Lines show natural size)
“Yes, my boy. In chirping the cricket raises its wings, which are dry and wrinkled, and rubs the edges together vigorously. The other chirping insects do about the same. The vineyard grasshopper, the one with the large green and yellow belly, has on its back two round scales which fit together and rub against each other. They constitute its musical instrument. Other grasshoppers play the violin; that is to say, they scrape the rough edges of their wings with their big curved thighs as bows or fiddle-sticks. The cicada has under its stomach in a double cavity, protected by covers capable of being raised more or less, two dry and shiny membranes stretched as taut as drumheads. The insect sings by making these vibrate in their cases.”