AUNT HILDA’S LETTER.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18959, 4 January 1930, Page 18 (Supplement)

AUNT HILDA’S LETTER .

KEEP CHEERFUL. When the sun has ceased to shine, It means a lot to other folks, And life’s one long wet day, When they are feeling sad. Put some sunshine in your smile To meet the kind of cheerful face And clear the clouds away. That makes the whole world glad. So keep a smile for rainy days, To show you’ve got some grit; For if you pass a smile along, You’ve done your little bit. UNINVITED GUESTS. INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT EARWIGS. ]~)EAR GIRLS AND BOYS,—

I had left a face-towel on the green grass one night and in the morning I found it was the newly accepted home of about fifty earwigs! I expect all of you know earwigs or “ forkytails ” as we called them when I was small, for of late years the advent of this strange little insect has been greatly deplored by garden enthusiasts. . Now most of us know very little indeed about our insect visitors, except the damage they do, but they are also of use in eating the eggs of moths and of various kinds of flies. They love sweet, sugary things very much, and that is why they sometimes feast off delicate flowers and young leaves. But even if we find them away inside the tube of a flower, we must not conclude that they will injure the flower, for they are very fond of hiding in any dark crevice or passage. Because of this habit, people often suppose that they are dangerous to sleeping people by crawling into their ears. There have been a few instances of this happening, but it is very rare. In any case, they could never get past the drum of the ear, so the idea is not worth very much. Flat stones, old tree trunks, rotting leaves, all these are favourite cover for the little creatures. One good way of trapping them is to take an elderberry branch, with all the pith scraped out and one end corked up. They will crawl in in dozens. They do not like the light very much and are oftenest found in the late afternoon and evening. During the winter they lie in an unconscious or comatose state. They, as far as we know, rear only one family a year, unlike* the birds and other insects. Early in the spring, Mother Earwig lays somewhere about 24 eggs, generally in a small hole in the ground. The eggs are like very small vellow beads. Out of this funny little egg a tiny earwig, about one-sixth of an inch long, bites its way. It is almost perfect on hatching, except that it has no wings. It starts to eat straight away, and sheds its skin several itmes as it grows, using its pincers or callipers in the process to help it. In about three months it is full grown, and then it does not moult its skin again.

A brood of earwigs behaves very much like a brood of chickens. If vou disturb them, they all scamper and hide under their mother’s body. In 1773, a naturalist called De Geer, was the first to notice this peculiarity. He also observed that Mother Earwig sat on her eggs just like a hen, but that may only be to protect them, and may have nothing to do with hatching. Recently, though, another naturalist, Mr W. T. Goe, has been fortunate in his observations, and he tells us that it takes about two weeks for the eggs to hatch. I have never seen an earwig flying and yet they have wings. Perhaps they fly only at night. A few species of earwigs have lost their -wings altogether, and it has been said that their name was originally “ earwings,’’ because the wings when folded look like a very tiny ear. Others think that the name means a creature that “ wigs ” or runs in ears.

The forceps or pincers on their tail are used in the process of moulting, in adjusting their wings, and also as a means of defence or offence in combat. There is one kind with particularly long forceps, but they are all ever changing slightly, because evolution is proceeding all around us all the time.

I should like my small friends to tell me any other interesting fact they may have read or observed about these wee garden visitors. It is just a delight to choose a sunny day on the grass and watch closely the ways of all these little uninvited guests to our gardens. Mr Indian Runner Duck thinks so too, and a dinner from juicy earwigs he considers takes a lot of beating! How are all my little holiday people? Starland is very quiet and dead at present, for you are all enjoying your holidays I know, but although it will mean more work, I shall be very glad to have all our circles and parties again. Love to you all, ever yours,