“I am but little, as you see, But yet I may a genius be; And if, when grown, I shall be great And make a name in Church and State, I’ll not forget that one fine day, As I in cradle sleeping lay, A Cavalletta blessed me there, In answer to my mother’s prayer.”[34] We are not told what happens to the Cavalletta that has been tied up, after “the charm’s wound up.” The proper thing for the mother to do would certainly be to let it go, but I can’t help thinking that what she really does do is to put her foot on it, under the idea that only that can make the thing quite certain. That would be so like the peasantry—of any country. ----- Footnote 32: Leland O. Howard, The Insect Book. Footnote 33: Plato. Footnote 34: The above account, with the translation of the verses, is from Mr. Leland’s work on Etruria. I have, however, altered some lines, in order to retain the Italian name _cavalletta_ instead of the American Katydid, which jars horribly here. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER X Cicadas in England—A blower of bubbles—The prolific Aphis—A nice calculation—Scientific curiosity—Dragon-fly armies—The son of the south-west wind. IT is generally understood that there are no cicadas or tettixes in England, and this—with a reservation in favour of a single species residing in the New Forest—is roundly asserted in various entomological works of authority. Since, however, Mr. George Bowdler Buckton, F.R.S., has written a monograph of the British _Cicadæ_, or _Tettigidæ_, in two volumes, each of which has a number of plates giving figures of the various species, all with their Latin names, there would seem to be a conflict of learned opinion; and I, for my part—since one of these species has relations with a nice little parasite which I should like to describe—am of opinion, after profound investigation and impartial weighing of the evidence on both sides, that Mr. Buckton is right. What strikes one at first sight as curious is that numbers of creatures, as large sometimes as humble bees, or larger, and of very striking appearance—often quite brilliantly coloured—should for so long have escaped observation; for certainly one has never seen them oneself, and, on making inquiries, one soon finds that nobody else has. But there is an explanation of this seeming miracle, and that of a not very satisfactory nature. One may have noticed, whilst going through the plates, that in the neighbourhood of each striking figure there are two little irrelevant-looking black lines, drawn soft and fine, very unobtrusive, looking as though they wished to elude observation; and gradually it begins to dawn upon you that these lines represent the real