The insects were of different colors and sizes. Some were black, some were brown and some were bright green. The one that Umé chose looked much like a brown grasshopper. "He sings most musically in the hours of darkness," said the insect merchant. "While you lie in your bed he will say to you, 'Tsuzuré--sasé, sasé, sasé.'" Both little girls laughed at the words, which mean, "Torn clothes--patch up, patch up, patch up." "They are strange words for the honorable insect-singer," said Tei. Each insect was in a little cage which was made of horsehair or fine strands of bamboo. The cages were of different shapes and sizes for the different kinds of insects. Some were tall and shaped like a bee-hive, some were oblong and others were square. Umé's kirigirisu was in a cage four inches long. Tei also had a few sen. She looked at many insects carefully and finally chose a beautiful bright green grasshopper that made a sound like the weaving of a loom:--"Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon! Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon!" Then home trotted the two little girls with their cunning cages. It was a very warm day and the good mother was waiting for them with cups of cold tea. She looked at the insects and smiled at the baby who kotowed an honorable welcome to them. "When I was a child," she said, "my unselfish mother told me a wise story about those same two insects." Immediately the children seated themselves. "We will be most respectfully quiet and listen, if you will tell it to us," said Umé. "Long, long ago," began the mother, "when Japan was young, there were two faithful and obedient daughters who supported their blind old father by the labor of their hands. The elder girl spent all her days in weaving while the other was just as industriously sewing. In that way they took faithful care of their blind father for many years. "Finally the old man died, and so deeply did the two daughters mourn for him that soon they died also. "One summer evening a strange sound was heard on their graves. It was a new sound that no one had ever heard there before, and it was made by two little insects which were swinging and singing on a blade of grass above the place where the two daughters lay. "On the tomb of the elder was a pretty green insect, producing sounds like those made by a girl weaving,--'Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon! Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon!' This was the first weaver-insect. On the tomb of the younger sister was an insect which kept crying out,--'Tsuzuré--sasé, sasé! tsuzuré--sasé sasé, sasé!' ('Torn clothes--patch up, patch up! Torn clothes--patch up, patch up, patch up!') This was the first kirigirisu. "Since that time these same little insects cry to every Japanese mother and daughter to work well before the cold winter days, to do all the weaving and sewing and mending and have the winter clothing ready. "We used to believe that the spirits of the two girls took these shapes," she ended.