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Yes, Charlie, it feeds on living creatures, greatly relishing the larvae of the May flies, or any other luckless insect infants it can capture.

It grows fast and moults several times, and when winter comes it hides away, only to come forth at the first breath of spring and continue its eating.

Like other larvae that live under water, it does its breathing by means of gills, and these gills are in little tufts just above the base of each leg.

It lives under stones, which is why it is called the stone fly, and it slides quickly around a corner when you lift up its stone.

Fish are very fond of it, and hunt it as eagerly as it hunts larvae.

Since it makes good bait for brook trout, its life is always in danger.

It finishes its growth in early summer, and emerges from its larval skin as a perfect winged insect.

Yes, indeed, John, you can often find dozens of the cast-off skins of the stone flies along the brook sides in the month of June.

The stone flies are harmless little people, and we should never kill one needlessly.

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THE SILVER FISH

May has something here for us to look at. She says it is a slippery rascal. Let us see it. Oh, yes, you have it in that little box. See, the box has a gla.s.s top. May cut the top off the box herself, and fastened in a little pane of gla.s.s so we could see the rascal without danger of its escaping.

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Pretty rascal! Like a little silver fish slipping about the box.

Yes, Charlie, it is called the silver fish. A land fish? Why, yes, it would be a land fish if it were a fish at all. But in spite of its name it is no fish. It is covered with shining scales, though, that are very much like fish scales, and it is shaped a good deal like a fish.

Oh, yes, it is an insect. You see it has six legs. But it has no wings.

No, it is not a young one.

It never will have any wings, no matter how old it may get to be.

It is flat, you see, and its scales make it very slippery, so that it is hard to catch and yet harder to hold on to after you have caught it. It goes flashing about like a little silver dart, and it loves to eat starch.

That is why May calls it a rascal. It eats the starch from the paste that fastens on her wall paper, and from book-bindings, so you see it makes things fall to pieces. But my! what a pretty rascal it is! Besides its name of silver fish, it is also called fish moth, though it is not a moth at all. It is also called bristle-tail, because of the long, bristle-like parts at the end of its body; and in some places it is called a slink, because, you know, it loves dark places, and when you uncover it in the daytime, it slips around a corner into the dark again.

Yes, it seems to slink about as if it were ashamed of itself, but it is not ashamed; it does not like the light, and it does not like us to see it.

Perhaps it is afraid of us.

ORTHOPTERA

THE OLD c.o.c.kROACHES

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Children, here is a c.o.c.kroach.

It was one of the first insects that came to live on the earth; c.o.c.kroaches were here before people, and they are here yet.

You do not think it is pretty?

Neither do I.

I don't know anybody who thinks a c.o.c.kroach pretty.

Oh, no, it won't bite you.

It will only get into your pantry and eat your food.

It will walk around in the night and frighten you if you go suddenly into the kitchen.

It will not frighten you on purpose, but when it hears you coming, it will run, and then maybe you will scream and run too.

What is that, May? You've a good mind to scream and run as it is?

Very well, scream and run if you want to; the c.o.c.kroach won't care.

We do not often see these big black fellows in the North, but sometimes we do. Down South c.o.c.kroaches seem to be everywhere.

What, May? You are never going South, then?

Well, you do not need to go; the c.o.c.kroaches won't care.

They have little heads and long antennae, like threads.

What is that, May? You don't care anything about their heads? You don't want to know anything about c.o.c.kroaches?

Oh, yes, you want to know about c.o.c.kroaches. Remember how old they are.

They have six legs, you see.

You don't care how many legs they have?