As it appears from Mr. Coryell's letter that the seventeen-year cicada is only an imitation locust, I shall give you a portrait of another member of the family who is, perhaps, more nearly related to the insect he is named after. At all events, he is certainly more like a grasshopper than is the seventeen-year cicada. The grasshopper that lives in this part of the world is a fine fellow to hop, as you know, but he always lights on his feet, and looks as composed and as much at his ease as if he had walked to the spot in the most dignified manner.

Well, now look at this picture! See one absurd fellow lying on his back and pawing the air with all his long legs, and another, like a circus clown, standing on his own foolish green head. Would you think these awkward and ridiculous creatures bore any relationship to the grave little hoppers who gently alight on your clothes as you run through the grass, stop a moment to stare at you with their great goggle eyes, and then take leave without saying "good-morning"?

He is no less than a cousin, I assure you, from the Far West, the great plains where few beasts, birds, or insects can find enough to live upon. This fellow does not suffer for food; he is the biggest of his family in America, and his curious performances have brought him several names. By some people he is called "the clumsy grasshopper," and by others he is dubbed "the great lubber locust," while by the scientific men, as usual, he has been given a long Latin name. Of course, you will be so eager to know it that you will wish to find it out for yourselves!