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The Cheery Cricket People (CHIRP chirp)
CHIRP! chirp!
Chirp! chirp! من Ah, listen to that cheery song. It is the cricket on the hearth singing thus gayly.
Dear little cricket; he lives in the corner by the fireplace. When all is still we hear his cheery chirp! chirp! chirp!
Sometimes he comes peering out and runs across the hearth, a little black fireside fairy.
Do you know one of the prettiest stories in the world has been written about a cricket?
Charles Dickens wrote it, and it is called "The Cricket on the Hearth."
Be sure to read this beautiful story. If you do not own it, ask to have it for Christmas. It is in the book of "Christmas Tales," a book that everybody ought to have.
Grasshoppers and katydids are pleasant people, but they live out of doors, and they do not seem quite so much like our very own little friends as the crickets. Of course the crickets live out of doors, too, only once in a while one of them comes into the house to live with us.
We hear them chirping in the grass and among the stones.
There is a certain place near the seashore where the rocks are alive with the black cricket folk.
They 入 come peeping out at you from all sides. They skip over the rocks, and you will often see a pair of long feelers and an inquisitive little You too, know there are crickets, little Nell? head looking around a corner. where Let us go and see them.
Ah, yes, there is one, looking at us out of inquisitive eyes, over there by that big stone.
Of course they are cousins to the grasshoppers. I knew you would guess that right away.
Yes, John, the little cricket people have flat backs. Their wing covers do not make a peaked roof over their backs, but are flat on top and bent down at the sides like a box cover.
They are not so long as the wings of the grasshopper, but they overlap on top.
Sometimes they are not so long as the body of the cricket.
Just watch now!
How spry the cricket folk are!
They jump well, but they also run well. They are always running about as though they enjoyed it.
It is not easy to catch one of them unless we, too, are "as spry as a cricket."
Funny little rascals, to come peeping at us like that, from out the crevices in the stones.
When we stir, - pop! they are back out of sight.
They eat leaves, and they enjoy a piece of nice, ripe fruit, or a bit of juicy vegetable.
See here, one has jumped on my hand and is sitting quite still.
It is a male cricket.
How do I know that?
May says because it has no ovipositor.
Yes, that is one way to know.
