The secret of the sounds produced by the Decticus is out. The toothed bow of the left wing-case is the motor; the friction-nervure of the right wing-case is the point of concussion; the stretched membrane of the mirror is the resonator, to which vibration is communicated by the shaking of the surrounding frame. Our own music has many vibrating membranes; but these are always affected by direct percussion. Bolder than our makers of musical instruments, the Decticus combines the bow with the drum. The same combination is found in the other Grasshoppers. The most famous of these is the Green Grasshopper (Locusta viridissima, Lin.), who to the qualities of a handsome stature and a fine green colour adds the honour of classical renown. In La Fontaine she is the Cicada who comes alms-begging of the Ant when the north wind blows. Flies and Grubs being scarce, the would-be borrower asks for a few grains to live upon until next summer. The double diet, animal and vegetable, is a very happy inspiration on the fabulist’s part. The Grasshopper, in fact, has the same tastes as the Decticus. In my cages, he feeds on lettuce-leaves when there is nothing better going; but his preference is all in favour of the Locust, whom he crunches up without leaving anything but the wing-cases and wings. In a state of liberty, his preying on that ravenous browser must largely make up to us for the small toll which he levies on our agricultural produce. Except in a few details, his musical instrument is the same as that of the Decticus. It occupies, at the base of the wing-cases, a large sunken surface shaped like a curved triangle and brownish in colour, with a dull-yellow rim. It is a sort of escutcheon, emblazoned with heraldic devices. On the under surface of the left wing-case, which is folded over the right, two transversal, parallel grooves are cut. The space between them makes a ridge which constitutes the bow. The latter, a brown spindle, has a set of fine, very regular and very numerous teeth. The mirror of the right wing-case is almost circular, well framed and supplied with a strong and prominent friction-nervure. The insect stridulates in July and August, in the evening twilight, until close upon ten o’clock. It produces a quick, rattling noise, accompanied by a faint metallic clicking which barely passes the border of perceptible sounds. The abdomen, considerably lowered, throbs and beats the measure. This goes on for irregular periods and suddenly ceases; in between these periods there are false starts reduced to a few strokes of the bow; there are pauses and then the stridulation is once more in full swing. All said, it is a very meagre performance, greatly inferior in volume to that of the Decticus, not to be compared with the song of the Cricket and even less with the harsh and noisy efforts of the Cicada. In the quiet of the evening, when only a few steps away, I need little Paul’s delicate ear to apprise me of it.