Part 32

No, of course not.

It smells bad, and it is sticky and disagreeable to the touch, and if you happen to put your finger in your mouth it has a nasty taste.

John says he hates to touch the grasshopper on account of this molasses.

You all do?

Well, I guess that is why it makes its molasses; it doesn't want you to touch it.

It doesn't want birds to eat it, or other insects to bother it, and so it smears them with this ill-smelling, sticky liquid.

Some birds eat it, however, in spite of its molasses.

Turkeys do.

What is that, Ned? turkeys are not birds, you think?

What are they?

If you think about it, you will have to come to the conclusion that turkeys are birds.

Then chickens and ducks and geese must be birds?

Well, so they are. They are all birds.

But to return to turkeys.

A flock of turkeys will spread out in a long line, and go across a field, driving the grasshoppers ahead of them, and eating them as fast as they can pick them up.

It is a funny sight to see a big flock of turkeys hunting grasshoppers in a meadow.

It is not funny to the grasshoppers, though.

What is that, Charlie? The grasshopper somehow reminds you of the praying mantis?

Do you know it is a near relative of the mantis?

Now, I will tell you something funny about the mantis.

It makes "molasses" like the grasshopper. Yes, it is this harmless "molasses" that has given it the name of "mule-killer."

I will tell you something else. If you lie down in the grass and watch the grasshoppers, you will have a good time, and you will see some strange things.

Nobody can tell you very much about the grasshoppers--or about the living creature. The best way is to use your own eyes and watch.

Just lie down in the grass perfectly still, and soon the insects that live in the grass will begin to appear.

What they will do you must find out for yourselves; but you may be sure it will be worth finding out,--the funny, clever, wise little people!--ah! they are good to watch.

They will soon go on chirping and shrilling and rasping and kricking and tapping and whizzing and whirring and buzzing all about you; and if you listen sharp, perhaps you can understand some of the things they say.

And this I am sure of; if you really watch and listen, you can learn to know the different insects by their sounds, just as you can know the birds by their songs. You can even tell whether you are listening to the meadow grasshopper, or the locust.

If I thought you were not tired of hearing how grasshoppers are made, I should tell you some more.