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.