Isn't this a pretty place to sit down and—

"Ouch! ow! ow! ow!"

Why, May, what is the matter?

Anybody would think you had seen a cockroach.

What has she found, John?

Oh, it is a walking stick!

Why do I call it that?

Look and see.

Does it not look like a stick?

And does it not walk?

Then why is not walking stick a good name for it?

May thinks its legs look like a collection of pine needles, for they are green and flat on the upper joints.

It is as pretty as it is queer, with its brown body and its green legs.

This is the male walking stick; the female has brown legs. She is brown all over, just the color of dried leaves, and she is not as slender as her mate.

Mollie thinks it is the long and slender thorax that makes the walking stick look so queer.

See its thorax. Its six legs are attached to its thorax, which is as long and as slender as the abdomen.

John thinks it looks queer because everything about it is so long and slender.

Long antennÆ, long legs, long thorax, long abdomen—that is Mr. Walking Stick.

Sir, why do you have such long antennÆ? Can you hear and feel and smell extra well because of them?

I wish you could tell us about them.

Now where is it?

Oh, yes, it is standing on that brown twig. It is so nearly the color of the twig and so much the shape of a little stick itself, that it is not easy to find it.

There, it is walking off again.

It has a good name, for I am sure that if a stick tried to walk, it could not do it more awkwardly.

See now, what it is doing, hanging by one foot from that twig.

How still it is.

Who would imagine, seeing it thus for the first time, that it was a living creature?

The walking sticks feed on leaves, and I suppose their queer shape and their color protect them from being eaten by birds.

A bird would have to be very close to a walking stick to tell it from a twig.

The female drops the eggs on the ground, and leaves them to hatch out and make their way in the world as best they can.

The young walking sticks look just like their parents, only of course they are very small, and they are green in color, like the leaves they eat.

Yes, little Nell, I should like to find some too; they must be cunning little things.

They eat and grow and moult, and eat and grow and moult, until they are grown up.

There are a good many species of walking sticks in the world, particularly in hot countries; and to their family belong the longest of known insects, some being nearly a foot long. Just imagine a walking stick a foot long!

And some of them are quite prettily colored, though certain species are not pleasant to handle, as they give forth a bad-smelling milky fluid when disturbed.

They are gentle little folk, all of them, and move slowly about over the leaves and twigs, not wishing to harm any living thing.

Some members of the walking stick family have wings, and these are even more curious than those that have none.

Their wings and legs are flattened to look like leaves, so that it is very difficult to find them among the foliage.

Yes, May, they are also the color of the leaves they live among.

Here is a picture of one that will give some idea of these strange little people.

We have none of these leaf-like insects in our country, but we do have a near relative to the walking sticks, though it does not feed on leaves, I assure you.

How many of you are acquainted with his lordship, the praying mantis?

Charlie says he has seen these fellows in Kansas, and Nellie says she has a cousin in the South who has told her about them.

Here is a picture of one; is it not a beauty!

Its wings are green and its body is brown, so that it can stealthily creep about among the foliage without being noticed.

When at rest it holds its front legs up as though it were raising its arms in an attitude of devotion.

But not a thought of devotion lies in that cruel little head. There is only one idea there; and if any unwary insect were to come along, those devotional arms would be thrust out with incredible rapidity, and the unfortunate insect clasped tightly in them.

Then the mantis, hugging its prey in the strong trap-like clasp of its spiked legs, would coolly proceed to devour it alive, eating it as a boy would eat an apple.

This praying mantis is called a "mule-killer" in the South, where the people think the brown liquor it spits out of its mouth, when disturbed, is fatal to mules.

The mantis is also called a devil-horse, a rear-horse, a camel-cricket, and many other names inspired by its outlandish appearance.

Some have even thought it looked wise, standing in that knowing attitude with extended arms, and so it has been called prophet and soothsayer, as though it could foretell what is going to happen.

Undoubtedly it never foretells anything but the approaching death of some insect and possibly a coming change in the weather, for insects often know when the weather is going to change long before we do.

Although our mantes are brown or green, there are a great many species living in hot countries that are much more brightly attired; and when you find yourself on a visit to the tropics, you must look for the flower mantis.

It mimics in color the brilliant hues of the showy orchids in which it hides.

It does not seem to wear its gorgeous robes from a love for the beautiful, however, but rather that it may the better lie concealed in the heart of the gay flowers, to pounce upon unsuspecting insects that come there for refreshing draughts of honey.

In some parts of Africa the mantis is worshipped by the natives, and in France these fellows are believed to point out the way to travellers by stretching out one leg when questioned.

Its strange attitude, with uplifted arms, has won the mantis regard in all parts of the world, though the insects it clasps in these uplifted arms would not be likely to share the good opinion held of this hardy cannibal.

For it is a cannibal, and enjoys eating another mantis as much as anything else.

The mantes are terrible fighters, too, and if there is a meeting between two of them, there is very apt to be a battle in which one is vanquished and devoured by the other.

Our mantis lays its eggs, thirty or forty in number, on tree twigs, and they are embedded in a soft substance that soon becomes very tough and horny. These strange egg-cases of the mantis are easily recognized because they look as though they were braided on top, as you can see in the picture.

Yes, May, the tough covering is to protect the eggs from wet and from prying birds and hungry insects.

The young mantes are similar to their parents, only they have no wings. But they hold up their spiny front legs and catch insects, and they grow and moult in the usual way.

While we have been talking about leaf-like insects and mule-killers our walking stick has gone off.

Well, well, let him go, and good luck go with him.

I am glad you like the walking stick, children.

And now, May, let me tell you something.

This queer fellow is a very near relative of your friend, the cockroach.