the trees it is close and sultry. Many of the forest trees are getting a parched look, and even the little wood-plants, screened from the direct influence of the sun, looked thirsty and feeble this afternoon.
But if vegetation suffer, the insect world rejoices in this dry, warm weather. Day and night, in the hot noontide sun, and in the brilliant moonlight, there is an unceasing hum about the fields and woods, much fuller in tone than usual. This is very pleasant in its way;—all the more so from being, like the songs of birds, a proof that the little creatures are happy in the passing hours. We are told that insects have, in truth, no voices, and that the sounds we hear from them are produced generally by friction, or by striking together hard substances of different parts of their bodies. But the character of the sound remains the same, however it be produced. No doubt the fly enjoys the idle buzzing of its own wings, the bee the hum which accompanies its thrifty flight, and the loud chirrup of the locust is probably as much an expression of ease and pleasure, as the full gush of song from the breast of his neighbor, the merry wren.
There are said to be very many varieties of locusts in this country. We have but few in our own neighborhood compared with the great numbers found in other counties of this State. The large tree-locusts are only heard with us in the warmest weather.
The Katy-did also, a very common insect elsewhere, is rare here. We have only a few, and their pleasant cry is seldom heard excepting in very warm evenings. During this last week, however, we have been greeted by the locust[1] and the Katy-did also.
- ↑ The Cicada, or great harvest-fly.
