In sorrow, not in anger, we then feel inclined to say with the poet

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird! fly away home

To your house in the old willow-tree,

Where your children, so dear, have invited the ant
And a few cozy neighbours to tea."

A BROODING INSECT.

A GARDENER, when taking you round his domain, often shows you with great pride those, to the artistic eye, horrors of horticulture, his dahlias. The great, painfully symmetrical, gorgeously-coloured flowers are the objects of the man's greatest care, and every attention is lavished upon them. No labour would be counted too great which resulted in producing on one of these plants an ill-smelling, lumpy bloom of a colour hitherto unknown to the species. Perhaps, however, this is rather hard on the poor plants and their proud cultivators. They do not look so bad in the distance, and their luxuriance and brilliancy make a noble-looking background, and serve to give a little cheerfulness to the already fading autumn tints.

On close examination we notice that often many leaves have been partly eaten away by some creaIf our curiosity should lead us to investigate the matter, we may further perceive, behind each plant, a stick surmounted by an inverted little

tree-pot. We lift it from its perch, pull out the piece of paper crumpled up at the bottom, and then discover that it is a trap to catch-what? Well, such nasty things that we heartily wish we had not touched it, for out run a lot of earwigs.

Look with what glee the gardener crushes them with his foot. He delights in the destruction of these, his supposed enemies, and the more he kills the more bloodthirsty for earwig life does he become. Earwigs! their very name makes us shudder. From

LARVA, PUPA, AND IMAGO OF THE COMMON EARWIG.

our babyhood we have learned to regard them with fear and horror because of their evil propensities; for they are apt to run into our ears, and drive us mad with their irritating manoeuvres.

Should you, however, be unfortunate enough at any time to have such an inmate, pour a little oil in your ear, and out it will quickly come.

A good deal of doubt has been expressed as to this habit of the earwig and the consequent origin of its name. Some naturalists completely disbelieve

the theory, and give an entirely different meaning to the insect's appellation, arguing that it is derived from the ear-like formation of the expanded hindwing, and that the word earwig is a corruption of car-wing.

We have it on excellent authority, however, that the first conjecture is more likely to be correct than the second. The word earwig comes

from ear, and the Saxon wicga,

signifying a worm or grub.

German name for the insect is Ohrwurm, which, being translated, means earworm, and in French we have the word perce-oreille, or earpiercer, Evidently, therefore, our neighbours across the Channel have the same disagreeable reasons as

we for giving the insect the name it bears. When lazily reclining on a mossy bank, looking up at the brilliant blue sky glimmering between the tender green of the leafy trees, enjoying the pleasant shade, and feeling almost poetic, take care of your ears, or they may become unintentional traps, to the equal discomfort of yourself and the disconcerted prisoner.

Enough has been said of its eccentricities, however; let us now contemplate the insect itself.

Doubtless surprise is felt at the assertion that carwigs have wings. Most of those we see are innocent of such appendages, and do nothing but run about in a frightened manner should they be disturbed by the turning of the stone under which they may chance to have their home. Many of the smallest ones are white. Are there, then, different kinds in one family? No; the varied forms are simply successive stages in the development of the same insect.

Instead of undergoing the complete metamorphosis which renders most insects perfectly inert during some period of their existence, earwigs when hatched immediately put on the outward appearance of their mother (except that they are white, and have no wings), and are active throughout their lives. The next change which imperceptibly overtakes the little white wigs results in their colour turning to a ruddy brown, the hardening of their outside skeleton, and in giving them, on either sides of their chests, a little half-grown wing-case. In the final stage these wing-cases become fully developed, and serve to cover the pair of membranous wings so neatly tucked under them. The leathery covers are very short, so that the large gauze wings have to be folded first longitudinally, like a fan, and then transversely, in order that they may be effectually protected during the boring operations of their owners.