[Contents]CHAPTER XLIENEMIES OF THE GRAPEVINEOne morning Jules was sent to the mill to give notice that his uncle’s wheat was ready to be ground. After he had left the village his road ran along beside a vineyard that showed signs of neglect, weeds and thistles springing up unchecked. Nevertheless the vines were pleasing to the eye in the spring freshness of their tender green shoots, with their clusters of blossoms still in the bud and their delicate tendrils reaching out for something to cling to. Here and there leaves of faded and ragged appearance, with others that were dried up and shriveled, took away somewhat from the general effect; but they were not very numerous and Jules failed to notice them at first. Afterward, for the last half of the way along the vineyard, these withered leaves became so abundant that the young vine shoots looked as if they had been swept by a fire.Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)a, with wings spread;b, with wings closed; cross shows natural size.[311]“Some ravager is at work here,” said the boy to himself, for his eyes were daily becoming more keenly observant. “Let’s look into this a little.”The vines were pitiful to behold, their young shoots showing more and more toward the growing end, where the grape clusters were forming, dried and crumpled leaves, some of these being rolled up like cigars. Under closer scrutiny there was often to be seen an insect with a long beak, a weevil of a brilliant metallic green color. Without question this beautiful weevil was the cause of the mischief. Insects and cigars, especially the former, sparkling creatures in the bright light of the sun, were soon collected by Jules as specimens to take home. Just then One-eyed John, the owner of the vineyard, came along.“What are you doing there?” he demanded.“Catching a few of these insects that are ruining your vines,” the boy replied.“Let me see them.”“Here they are.”“And you say they are ruining my vines?”“I think so. I have just seen some of them making these cigars.”“Oh, bosh, you silly! Do you think they would take the trouble to make cigars out of leaves? They don’t smoke. It’s the moon that has burned my vines, the moon.”And so, satisfied with his explanation, One-eyed John turned on his heel and went off, whistling a tune. But he would stop whistling when, three[312]years later, he had to pull up those vines, exhausted as they were by the cigar-rollers. Nevertheless he would not take back what he had said: the moon had caused all the mischief.Returning from the mill, Jules picked up Louis on the way and brought him back to share in the benefit of what Uncle Paul might have to say concerning the specimens Jules had collected.“The insect found on the vine,” said he, after examining one of the brilliant creatures, “is a weevil. You all remember that this name is given to various beetles with a head tapering into a sort of trumpet. This one is therhynchites, as entomologists call it, or the vine-grub, as it is known to vine-growers. It is of a magnificent lustrous green on the back, and underneath it shines like gold. Some dark-blue ones are also found, but they are more rare. The male has on each side of the thorax a little pointed protuberance directed forward. The larva is a small, white, legless worm that begins life in a roll made by the mother with a vine leaf. In the month of May she begins operations by cutting the stem of the leaf three-quarters through to arrest the flow of sap, so that the leaf may wither and be the easier to roll. Then the weevil rolls it up and lays three or four eggs in its folds. When in the process of drying the leaf has assumed the color of tobacco, you would take it for a cigar hanging from the vine. The young larvæ soon abandon this first shelter, let themselves fall, and burrow into the ground, where they finish developing. The vine-grub saps the[313]vigor of the vine by destroying its leaves, and therefore the cigar-like rolls should be picked off and burned in May or June. In this way the infant insects are destroyed in the cradle and much future damage is prevented.”“Along with the shiny green weevil that rolls vine leaves into cigars I found this other insect,” Jules announced, displaying the creature.“That is not a weevil, as you can see from the shape of its head, which has no tapering beak. Its wing sheaths are chestnut red, the rest of the body being black. It is known as the eumolpus or, more commonly, the vine-fretter, or, in our language, the scrivener because in gnawing the surface of the vine leaves it traces fine lines that look somewhat like intricate handwriting. It attacks in the same way the stems of grape leaves and of grape clusters, the young shoots of the vine, and the grapes themselves. If the insects are numerous, all these incisions and lacerations cause the vines to wither away and produce but little fruit, and that of poor quality.“The larvæ of the vine-fretter live in the ground, and to destroy them the soil thus infested is turned over in the winter, as exposure to the cold kills the grubs. When the insects are fully developed it is exceedingly difficult to rid the vines of them. At the slightest alarm the little creature, busy with its destructive writing on the leaves, draws its legs up under its belly and lets itself drop to the ground, where it cannot be easily seen because of its dull hue; and it also keeps perfectly still, playing dead.”[314]“Does it think it can escape by not moving?” asked Emile.“Doubtless, because then, even if it should by any chance be discovered, it would probably be mistaken for a grain of earth.”“Wouldn’t it be better for it to fly away or run away than to play dead?”“Its flight is too heavy and its legs too short. All insects that cannot take instant flight and are without means of defense do as does the vine-fretter in time of danger: they remain perfectly motionless. Nearly always this expedient succeeds with them because their color, commonly a dull one, causes them to be confounded with the soil.”“Ah, the sly rogues!”“Well, then, this ruse of the vine-fretter must be turned to account by us in our efforts to exterminate the insect. Under the vine we stretch a cloth, after which a sharp blow is given to the main stem. The vine-fretters let themselves fall, they play dead, but they can be seen on the cloth and not one escapes the sad fate awaiting it.”[315]
[Contents]CHAPTER XLIENEMIES OF THE GRAPEVINEOne morning Jules was sent to the mill to give notice that his uncle’s wheat was ready to be ground. After he had left the village his road ran along beside a vineyard that showed signs of neglect, weeds and thistles springing up unchecked. Nevertheless the vines were pleasing to the eye in the spring freshness of their tender green shoots, with their clusters of blossoms still in the bud and their delicate tendrils reaching out for something to cling to. Here and there leaves of faded and ragged appearance, with others that were dried up and shriveled, took away somewhat from the general effect; but they were not very numerous and Jules failed to notice them at first. Afterward, for the last half of the way along the vineyard, these withered leaves became so abundant that the young vine shoots looked as if they had been swept by a fire.Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)a, with wings spread;b, with wings closed; cross shows natural size.[311]“Some ravager is at work here,” said the boy to himself, for his eyes were daily becoming more keenly observant. “Let’s look into this a little.”The vines were pitiful to behold, their young shoots showing more and more toward the growing end, where the grape clusters were forming, dried and crumpled leaves, some of these being rolled up like cigars. Under closer scrutiny there was often to be seen an insect with a long beak, a weevil of a brilliant metallic green color. Without question this beautiful weevil was the cause of the mischief. Insects and cigars, especially the former, sparkling creatures in the bright light of the sun, were soon collected by Jules as specimens to take home. Just then One-eyed John, the owner of the vineyard, came along.“What are you doing there?” he demanded.“Catching a few of these insects that are ruining your vines,” the boy replied.“Let me see them.”“Here they are.”“And you say they are ruining my vines?”“I think so. I have just seen some of them making these cigars.”“Oh, bosh, you silly! Do you think they would take the trouble to make cigars out of leaves? They don’t smoke. It’s the moon that has burned my vines, the moon.”And so, satisfied with his explanation, One-eyed John turned on his heel and went off, whistling a tune. But he would stop whistling when, three[312]years later, he had to pull up those vines, exhausted as they were by the cigar-rollers. Nevertheless he would not take back what he had said: the moon had caused all the mischief.Returning from the mill, Jules picked up Louis on the way and brought him back to share in the benefit of what Uncle Paul might have to say concerning the specimens Jules had collected.“The insect found on the vine,” said he, after examining one of the brilliant creatures, “is a weevil. You all remember that this name is given to various beetles with a head tapering into a sort of trumpet. This one is therhynchites, as entomologists call it, or the vine-grub, as it is known to vine-growers. It is of a magnificent lustrous green on the back, and underneath it shines like gold. Some dark-blue ones are also found, but they are more rare. The male has on each side of the thorax a little pointed protuberance directed forward. The larva is a small, white, legless worm that begins life in a roll made by the mother with a vine leaf. In the month of May she begins operations by cutting the stem of the leaf three-quarters through to arrest the flow of sap, so that the leaf may wither and be the easier to roll. Then the weevil rolls it up and lays three or four eggs in its folds. When in the process of drying the leaf has assumed the color of tobacco, you would take it for a cigar hanging from the vine. The young larvæ soon abandon this first shelter, let themselves fall, and burrow into the ground, where they finish developing. The vine-grub saps the[313]vigor of the vine by destroying its leaves, and therefore the cigar-like rolls should be picked off and burned in May or June. In this way the infant insects are destroyed in the cradle and much future damage is prevented.”“Along with the shiny green weevil that rolls vine leaves into cigars I found this other insect,” Jules announced, displaying the creature.“That is not a weevil, as you can see from the shape of its head, which has no tapering beak. Its wing sheaths are chestnut red, the rest of the body being black. It is known as the eumolpus or, more commonly, the vine-fretter, or, in our language, the scrivener because in gnawing the surface of the vine leaves it traces fine lines that look somewhat like intricate handwriting. It attacks in the same way the stems of grape leaves and of grape clusters, the young shoots of the vine, and the grapes themselves. If the insects are numerous, all these incisions and lacerations cause the vines to wither away and produce but little fruit, and that of poor quality.“The larvæ of the vine-fretter live in the ground, and to destroy them the soil thus infested is turned over in the winter, as exposure to the cold kills the grubs. When the insects are fully developed it is exceedingly difficult to rid the vines of them. At the slightest alarm the little creature, busy with its destructive writing on the leaves, draws its legs up under its belly and lets itself drop to the ground, where it cannot be easily seen because of its dull hue; and it also keeps perfectly still, playing dead.”[314]“Does it think it can escape by not moving?” asked Emile.“Doubtless, because then, even if it should by any chance be discovered, it would probably be mistaken for a grain of earth.”“Wouldn’t it be better for it to fly away or run away than to play dead?”“Its flight is too heavy and its legs too short. All insects that cannot take instant flight and are without means of defense do as does the vine-fretter in time of danger: they remain perfectly motionless. Nearly always this expedient succeeds with them because their color, commonly a dull one, causes them to be confounded with the soil.”“Ah, the sly rogues!”“Well, then, this ruse of the vine-fretter must be turned to account by us in our efforts to exterminate the insect. Under the vine we stretch a cloth, after which a sharp blow is given to the main stem. The vine-fretters let themselves fall, they play dead, but they can be seen on the cloth and not one escapes the sad fate awaiting it.”[315]
CHAPTER XLIENEMIES OF THE GRAPEVINE
One morning Jules was sent to the mill to give notice that his uncle’s wheat was ready to be ground. After he had left the village his road ran along beside a vineyard that showed signs of neglect, weeds and thistles springing up unchecked. Nevertheless the vines were pleasing to the eye in the spring freshness of their tender green shoots, with their clusters of blossoms still in the bud and their delicate tendrils reaching out for something to cling to. Here and there leaves of faded and ragged appearance, with others that were dried up and shriveled, took away somewhat from the general effect; but they were not very numerous and Jules failed to notice them at first. Afterward, for the last half of the way along the vineyard, these withered leaves became so abundant that the young vine shoots looked as if they had been swept by a fire.Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)a, with wings spread;b, with wings closed; cross shows natural size.[311]“Some ravager is at work here,” said the boy to himself, for his eyes were daily becoming more keenly observant. “Let’s look into this a little.”The vines were pitiful to behold, their young shoots showing more and more toward the growing end, where the grape clusters were forming, dried and crumpled leaves, some of these being rolled up like cigars. Under closer scrutiny there was often to be seen an insect with a long beak, a weevil of a brilliant metallic green color. Without question this beautiful weevil was the cause of the mischief. Insects and cigars, especially the former, sparkling creatures in the bright light of the sun, were soon collected by Jules as specimens to take home. Just then One-eyed John, the owner of the vineyard, came along.“What are you doing there?” he demanded.“Catching a few of these insects that are ruining your vines,” the boy replied.“Let me see them.”“Here they are.”“And you say they are ruining my vines?”“I think so. I have just seen some of them making these cigars.”“Oh, bosh, you silly! Do you think they would take the trouble to make cigars out of leaves? They don’t smoke. It’s the moon that has burned my vines, the moon.”And so, satisfied with his explanation, One-eyed John turned on his heel and went off, whistling a tune. But he would stop whistling when, three[312]years later, he had to pull up those vines, exhausted as they were by the cigar-rollers. Nevertheless he would not take back what he had said: the moon had caused all the mischief.Returning from the mill, Jules picked up Louis on the way and brought him back to share in the benefit of what Uncle Paul might have to say concerning the specimens Jules had collected.“The insect found on the vine,” said he, after examining one of the brilliant creatures, “is a weevil. You all remember that this name is given to various beetles with a head tapering into a sort of trumpet. This one is therhynchites, as entomologists call it, or the vine-grub, as it is known to vine-growers. It is of a magnificent lustrous green on the back, and underneath it shines like gold. Some dark-blue ones are also found, but they are more rare. The male has on each side of the thorax a little pointed protuberance directed forward. The larva is a small, white, legless worm that begins life in a roll made by the mother with a vine leaf. In the month of May she begins operations by cutting the stem of the leaf three-quarters through to arrest the flow of sap, so that the leaf may wither and be the easier to roll. Then the weevil rolls it up and lays three or four eggs in its folds. When in the process of drying the leaf has assumed the color of tobacco, you would take it for a cigar hanging from the vine. The young larvæ soon abandon this first shelter, let themselves fall, and burrow into the ground, where they finish developing. The vine-grub saps the[313]vigor of the vine by destroying its leaves, and therefore the cigar-like rolls should be picked off and burned in May or June. In this way the infant insects are destroyed in the cradle and much future damage is prevented.”“Along with the shiny green weevil that rolls vine leaves into cigars I found this other insect,” Jules announced, displaying the creature.“That is not a weevil, as you can see from the shape of its head, which has no tapering beak. Its wing sheaths are chestnut red, the rest of the body being black. It is known as the eumolpus or, more commonly, the vine-fretter, or, in our language, the scrivener because in gnawing the surface of the vine leaves it traces fine lines that look somewhat like intricate handwriting. It attacks in the same way the stems of grape leaves and of grape clusters, the young shoots of the vine, and the grapes themselves. If the insects are numerous, all these incisions and lacerations cause the vines to wither away and produce but little fruit, and that of poor quality.“The larvæ of the vine-fretter live in the ground, and to destroy them the soil thus infested is turned over in the winter, as exposure to the cold kills the grubs. When the insects are fully developed it is exceedingly difficult to rid the vines of them. At the slightest alarm the little creature, busy with its destructive writing on the leaves, draws its legs up under its belly and lets itself drop to the ground, where it cannot be easily seen because of its dull hue; and it also keeps perfectly still, playing dead.”[314]“Does it think it can escape by not moving?” asked Emile.“Doubtless, because then, even if it should by any chance be discovered, it would probably be mistaken for a grain of earth.”“Wouldn’t it be better for it to fly away or run away than to play dead?”“Its flight is too heavy and its legs too short. All insects that cannot take instant flight and are without means of defense do as does the vine-fretter in time of danger: they remain perfectly motionless. Nearly always this expedient succeeds with them because their color, commonly a dull one, causes them to be confounded with the soil.”“Ah, the sly rogues!”“Well, then, this ruse of the vine-fretter must be turned to account by us in our efforts to exterminate the insect. Under the vine we stretch a cloth, after which a sharp blow is given to the main stem. The vine-fretters let themselves fall, they play dead, but they can be seen on the cloth and not one escapes the sad fate awaiting it.”[315]
One morning Jules was sent to the mill to give notice that his uncle’s wheat was ready to be ground. After he had left the village his road ran along beside a vineyard that showed signs of neglect, weeds and thistles springing up unchecked. Nevertheless the vines were pleasing to the eye in the spring freshness of their tender green shoots, with their clusters of blossoms still in the bud and their delicate tendrils reaching out for something to cling to. Here and there leaves of faded and ragged appearance, with others that were dried up and shriveled, took away somewhat from the general effect; but they were not very numerous and Jules failed to notice them at first. Afterward, for the last half of the way along the vineyard, these withered leaves became so abundant that the young vine shoots looked as if they had been swept by a fire.
Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)a, with wings spread;b, with wings closed; cross shows natural size.
Leaf-hopper (a grapevine-eater)
a, with wings spread;b, with wings closed; cross shows natural size.
[311]
“Some ravager is at work here,” said the boy to himself, for his eyes were daily becoming more keenly observant. “Let’s look into this a little.”
The vines were pitiful to behold, their young shoots showing more and more toward the growing end, where the grape clusters were forming, dried and crumpled leaves, some of these being rolled up like cigars. Under closer scrutiny there was often to be seen an insect with a long beak, a weevil of a brilliant metallic green color. Without question this beautiful weevil was the cause of the mischief. Insects and cigars, especially the former, sparkling creatures in the bright light of the sun, were soon collected by Jules as specimens to take home. Just then One-eyed John, the owner of the vineyard, came along.
“What are you doing there?” he demanded.
“Catching a few of these insects that are ruining your vines,” the boy replied.
“Let me see them.”
“Here they are.”
“And you say they are ruining my vines?”
“I think so. I have just seen some of them making these cigars.”
“Oh, bosh, you silly! Do you think they would take the trouble to make cigars out of leaves? They don’t smoke. It’s the moon that has burned my vines, the moon.”
And so, satisfied with his explanation, One-eyed John turned on his heel and went off, whistling a tune. But he would stop whistling when, three[312]years later, he had to pull up those vines, exhausted as they were by the cigar-rollers. Nevertheless he would not take back what he had said: the moon had caused all the mischief.
Returning from the mill, Jules picked up Louis on the way and brought him back to share in the benefit of what Uncle Paul might have to say concerning the specimens Jules had collected.
“The insect found on the vine,” said he, after examining one of the brilliant creatures, “is a weevil. You all remember that this name is given to various beetles with a head tapering into a sort of trumpet. This one is therhynchites, as entomologists call it, or the vine-grub, as it is known to vine-growers. It is of a magnificent lustrous green on the back, and underneath it shines like gold. Some dark-blue ones are also found, but they are more rare. The male has on each side of the thorax a little pointed protuberance directed forward. The larva is a small, white, legless worm that begins life in a roll made by the mother with a vine leaf. In the month of May she begins operations by cutting the stem of the leaf three-quarters through to arrest the flow of sap, so that the leaf may wither and be the easier to roll. Then the weevil rolls it up and lays three or four eggs in its folds. When in the process of drying the leaf has assumed the color of tobacco, you would take it for a cigar hanging from the vine. The young larvæ soon abandon this first shelter, let themselves fall, and burrow into the ground, where they finish developing. The vine-grub saps the[313]vigor of the vine by destroying its leaves, and therefore the cigar-like rolls should be picked off and burned in May or June. In this way the infant insects are destroyed in the cradle and much future damage is prevented.”
“Along with the shiny green weevil that rolls vine leaves into cigars I found this other insect,” Jules announced, displaying the creature.
“That is not a weevil, as you can see from the shape of its head, which has no tapering beak. Its wing sheaths are chestnut red, the rest of the body being black. It is known as the eumolpus or, more commonly, the vine-fretter, or, in our language, the scrivener because in gnawing the surface of the vine leaves it traces fine lines that look somewhat like intricate handwriting. It attacks in the same way the stems of grape leaves and of grape clusters, the young shoots of the vine, and the grapes themselves. If the insects are numerous, all these incisions and lacerations cause the vines to wither away and produce but little fruit, and that of poor quality.
“The larvæ of the vine-fretter live in the ground, and to destroy them the soil thus infested is turned over in the winter, as exposure to the cold kills the grubs. When the insects are fully developed it is exceedingly difficult to rid the vines of them. At the slightest alarm the little creature, busy with its destructive writing on the leaves, draws its legs up under its belly and lets itself drop to the ground, where it cannot be easily seen because of its dull hue; and it also keeps perfectly still, playing dead.”[314]
“Does it think it can escape by not moving?” asked Emile.
“Doubtless, because then, even if it should by any chance be discovered, it would probably be mistaken for a grain of earth.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for it to fly away or run away than to play dead?”
“Its flight is too heavy and its legs too short. All insects that cannot take instant flight and are without means of defense do as does the vine-fretter in time of danger: they remain perfectly motionless. Nearly always this expedient succeeds with them because their color, commonly a dull one, causes them to be confounded with the soil.”
“Ah, the sly rogues!”
“Well, then, this ruse of the vine-fretter must be turned to account by us in our efforts to exterminate the insect. Under the vine we stretch a cloth, after which a sharp blow is given to the main stem. The vine-fretters let themselves fall, they play dead, but they can be seen on the cloth and not one escapes the sad fate awaiting it.”[315]