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grass in search of the noisy intruder, and by good luck I found
him. I beckoned Carlotta, who glided down, and there, with our
heads together and holding our breath, we watched the queerest
little love drama imaginable. Our cicada stood alert and spruce,
waving his antenna with a sort of cavalier swagger, and every now
and then making his corslet vibrate passionately. On the top of
a blade of grass sat a brown little Julieta most reserved,
discreet little Juliet, but evidently much interested in Romeo's
serenade. When he sang she put her head to one side and moved as
if uncertain whether to descend from her balcony. When he
stopped, which he did at frequent intervals, being as it were
timorous and tonguetied, she took her foot from the ladder and
waited, at first patiently and then with an obvious air of
boredom. Messer Romeo made a hop forward and vibrated; Juliet
grew tremulous. Alarmed at his boldness he halted and made a hop
back; Juliet looked disappointed. At last another cicada set up
a louder note some yards away and, without a nod or a sign,
Juliet skipped off into space, leaving the most disconsolate
little Romeo of a grasshopper you ever beheld. He gave vent to a
dismal failure of a vibration and hopped to the foot of the
faithless lady's bower.
Carlotta broke into a merry laugh and clapped her hands.
I am so glad.
She is the most graceless hussy imaginable, I cried. There
was he grinding his heart out for her, and just because a more
brazenthroated scoundrel came upon the scene she must needs
leave our poor friend in the lurch. She has no more heart than
my boot, and she will come to a bad end.
But he was such a fool, retorted my sage damsel, with a flash
of laughter in her dark eyes. If he wanted her, why didn't he
go up and take her?
Because he is a gentleman, a cicada of fine and delicate
feeling.
_Hou!_ laughed Carlotta. He was a fool. It served him right.
She grew tired of waiting.
You believe, then, said I, in marriage by capture?
I explained and discoursed to her of the matrimonial habits of
the Tartar tribes.
Yes, said Carlotta. That is sense. And it must be such fun
for the girl. All that, what you call it?wooing?is waste of
time. I like things to happen, quick, quick, one after the
otheror else
Or else what?
To do nothing, nothing but lie in the sun, like this afternoon.
Yes, said I dreamily, after I had again thrown myself by her

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