The Irish Grave: A Raven Hill Farm

Mystery Jane Drew

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-irish-grave-a-raven-hill-farm-mystery-jane-drew/
AN IRISH GRAVE
RAVEN HILL FARM MYSTERIES
BOOK FOUR
JANE E DREW
Copyright © 2023 by Jane E Drew
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
 CHAPTER 1

“W hy have we never thought of getting a cat before?” Fiona

Fitzsimmons sat cradling a kitten in her lap that looked to
be about three months old. It was a calico with an orange back,
white legs, and chest. “Shouldn’t every farm have a cat? I mean,
there are mice and rats to contend with. So it just makes perfect
sense to me.”
Quinn had to laugh. “You don’t have to sell me on that kitten,
Fiona. Whoever left it at our front door knew what they were doing.
I’m already in love with the little thing. I wonder, though, how do
you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Hmm, no idea. I know; let’s ask Margaret!” Said Fiona.
Margaret O’Callahan had been their go-to on almost everything
since the two women had pulled up their Chicago roots and moved
to a little farm in West Cork near Ballyfrannen. Margaret and her
brother Daniel had been their first friends in Ireland. Daniel had
even entrusted Quinn with the Raven he had rescued. Pike had
become a part of the family. He lived in the house and came and
went as he pleased. Both she and Fiona loved the bird dearly.
Margaret and Daniel had also come to their rescue when they
bought two Sandy and Black pigs from a breeder in the UK, patiently
teaching them how to care for the creatures. The same was true
when they added the chickens and their recent purchase of two
miniature donkeys. Quinn and Fiona were thankful to have them in
their lives. Fiona was especially grateful to have met Daniel. She
was, in fact, secretly in love with the man.
The following day, Margaret stopped by with a basket of baked
goods left over from breakfast at her B&B. Margaret was round with
a quick walk and thick, wiry red hair that seemed to hover above her
head no matter how many times she tried to push it down. She was
a woman who was always ready to speak her mind, but she also had
a kind heart and a wicked sense of humor. This morning Margaret
had brought bread pudding with nutmeg, a few slices of
butterscotch apple cake, and an assortment of scones.
“Yum,” said Fiona, lifting a slice of apple cake from the basket
and putting it on her plate.
Quinn chose a blueberry scone. They had placed a large pot of
tea, cups, and saucers on their well-used pine kitchen table. The
women were ready to tuck in when a light tap at the back door told
them Hattie Biggs had walked the short distance from her cottage
next door to join them. This ritual played out at least twice a week,
sometimes more. The women liked nothing better than these
morning gatherings.
Hattie was tall, in her early fifties, and wore no makeup. She
pulled her hair back rather severely, and her dress of choice was a
wool jumper, tweed skirt, and no-nonsense shoes unless it wasn’t.
Hattie had been one of the most successful and beautiful models of
her day. Back then, she had used the name Antonia. Now, when it
suited her, she could still transform herself into an older version of
the beautiful creature she really was. But, mostly, she enjoyed being
plain Hattie Biggs.
Fiona sighed as she finished the last bite of the large slice of
butterscotch apple cake. “Good god, Margaret, that was delicious!”
Margaret smiled. “My mam has been baking that since I was a
wee lass. It’s one of my favorites, too. Would ye like another piece,
Fee?”
“I’d better not, Margaret, though there is something you can help
me with.” Fiona looked around the kitchen for the kitten. It was
curled up, sleeping next to Maggie, Quinn’s Border Terrier. Fee
brought the kitten to Margaret. “Someone left this little thing outside
our front door. Maybe you can tell us if it’s a boy or a girl?” The
kitten gave a soft meow as Margaret gently turned it upside down
for an inspection.
“Well, you’re a little fella, aren’t you?” Margaret righted the kitten
and began stroking its back. It immediately settled into her lap,
purring.
“It’s a boy, then?” From Fiona.
“It is indeed.” Margaret continued to stroke the kitten. “Do you
have a name for him yet?”
“I thought Binx would be a nice name. What do you think,
Quinn?” Fiona looked at her friend of many years to get her reaction.
“Binx, yes, that has a nice ring to it.”
“Binx it is then.” Fiona looked at the kitten and smiled.
Just then, the women heard a knock at the front door. Quinn
looked out to see Dermot Brennan standing on the front stoop.
Dermot was the local Garda from Ballyfrannen, the little town Quinn
and Fiona had fallen in love with and the reason they had moved to
this part of County Cork.
“Hello, Dermot; what brings you out on this fine, sunny day?”
Quinn had a history with Dermot. At first glance, he appeared to be
nothing more than a small, nervous man who seemed in constant
motion, bobbing up and down and smoothing his oversized jacket.
There was much more to him, though, as Quinn had learned. He
was also a master of jujitsu and quite capable of being a
commanding presence when the occasion called for it. He had more
than earned Quinn’s respect many times over and had even saved
her life on one occasion.
“Well, Missus, I thought I might come in and chat. There’s some
news I thought you would want to hear about.” Dermot sniffed and
looked a little uneasy as he heard voices from the kitchen.
“Oh, that’s just Hattie and Margaret. Join us for some tea while
you tell us the news. Margaret has brought over some delightful
leftovers.” Quinn ushered Dermot into the kitchen.
Dermot laughed nervously and pulled at his jacket. “Are you sure
you ladies don’t mind me interrupting you like this? I can always
come back later.” Dermot sniffed again and smoothed his hair down
a little as he spoke. “Honestly, coming back later is no trouble at all.”
Dermot looked back towards the living room and the front door.
Margaret slammed her hand on the table, causing Dermot to
jump violently. “Jesus god, Dermot, stop your swanning about. Sit
down here and have some tea.” Margaret pointed to the chair next
to her. She got up to get a cup and saucer and plate and fork. She
sat those items down in front of Dermot, who was now looking a
little wild-eyed. “Now, so, what would ye be havin’? And don’t say
nothin’, as you’ve no meat on your bones as it is.” Margaret waited
for Dermot to respond.
Dermot tentatively reached for a piece of the butterscotch apple
cake. He seemed to relax a little as Margaret poured him some tea
and then sat back down. “Well, this is a treat. I should stop by and
see you and Fiona more often.” Dermot chuckled and looked at
Quinn as he spoke.
“You’re welcome anytime,” replied Quinn, “but you said there was
some news you wanted to tell us?”
Dermot took a sip of tea and then sat the cup down. “Given your
history of playing detective and the potential connection to your
farm, I wanted to share some information with you.” Again, Dermot
looked at Quinn.
Hattie looked up with raised eyebrows. “I’m not sure if I would
describe what we do as ‘Playing detective’ given I actually was a
detective, not to mention Quinn and Fiona, and Margaret, have all
gotten pretty good at crime solving, too.”
“Oh, now, Missus, don’t go getting yourself bothered. I meant
nothing by that. I’ve come to respect all of you.” Dermot spoke with
sincerity.
Hattie looked somewhat appeased. “Go on then; tell us what it is
you know.”
Dermot rearranged himself in his chair and then pulled out his
phone. “First, I’ll show you the pictures I have. Then I’ll explain why
I have them.”
All four women leaned forward to look at Dermot’s phone. The
first photo was of a young woman standing in the Irish countryside.
She looked to be in her early twenties. The picture was old, probably
from the nineteen thirties. The woman smiled happily into the
camera while standing beside a good-looking young man about the
same age. The second picture was of the same young woman, but
she was thin and gaunt in this one. Her expression was one of abject
misery.
Quinn studied the picture and gasped, “Is that our farm in the
background, Dermot?”
“It is, Missus,” said Dermot.
 CHAPTER 2

Q uinn and her grandmother, Rose, seated themselves on the

lovely overstuffed linen chairs Rose kept at the back of her art
gallery, which was in the town center of Skibbereen. There was a
fine wooden coffee table in front of the chairs. It held delicate china
cups and saucers, plus a teapot. Savory-looking biscuits sat on small
plates. Everything was impeccably arranged. Like most artists, Rose
saw art in everything and was good at creating beauty, even when
serving tea.
Rose’s paintings covered the walls of the small gallery. Most were
of the Irish countryside or the sea, with a few depicting interesting-
looking vases filled with colorful flowers.
Handsome tables and chests held smaller paintings. Well-placed,
exquisite bronze lamps with pleated linen shades sat on several
tables, giving the room a rich glow that played well with the art.
Rose was elegant, with thick white hair cut to just below her
chin. She was small and thin and usually wore oversized, well-made
shirts paired with designer jeans and Doc Martins. Attractive silver
earrings swayed as she spoke, and she was seldom without the dark
blue tanzanite stone that hung from a lovely braided rope necklace
around her neck. Rose was in her early eighties, but only the hollow
areas around her eyes bore testament to her age. In all other ways,
she seemed much younger than her years. She still painted and ran
the gallery by herself. Her mind was sharp and agile.
 Quinn took a sip of tea and then realized Rose was staring at her.
“What’s troubling you, Quinn?”
“Am I that transparent, or is the Knowing kicking in?” Quinn
knew her grandmother well enough now to joke about her gift.
“A little of both, I’d say.” Rose laughed and patted Quinn’s hand.
“Out with it, girl. What’s troubling you?”
Quinn sighed and sat back in her chair. “Does the name Hannah
Byrne mean anything to you?”
Rose thought for a moment. “You’re talking about Pans. Her
name was Hannah, but everyone called her Pansy or Pans. She died
a few years before I was born. My family spoke of her from time to
time. She was one reason I never wanted to see the inside of an
Irish Home for Unwed Mothers. Pans died in one after they took her
baby away from her. My mother said Pans only visited the farm once
after they put her in that home. I think that was right after the baby
was born. If I’m not mistaken, she died about six months later, and I
don’t believe I am. It was always a chilling story to hear, and it gave
me my first poor impression of the church. They never let most of
the women out, you see. Once they stole their babies, they made
them stay and work for the nuns. Some did that their whole life,
others died, and a few lucky ones made it out.”
Rose looked at Quinn thoughtfully. “How did you ever hear about
Pans? I would have thought that story died out long ago.”
“Dermot Brennan visited us yesterday. It seems someone has
disturbed Hannah Byrne’s grave. He said it could be hooligans, but
the guards take grave robbing seriously, so they have opened an
investigation.”
“Robbing? You mean they took something from her grave?” Rose
looked shocked.
“Yes, it seems so. They suspect that someone stole a ring. Pan’s
left arm and hand were roughly tampered with.”
“They must have buried her with her engagement ring.” Rose
looked distressed and began rubbing the stone around her neck.
“You know something about her ring, Rose?”
Rose nodded. “Pans was engaged to be married, but the young
man had no money. So he decided to go to Tanzania, where they
mined for tanzanite, trying to earn enough money so that he and
Pans could marry and buy a little farm in the area. Killian, I believe
his name was Killian, though I’ve forgotten his last name. Anyway,
Killian brought back a large dark blue tanzanite stone and had an
engagement ring made from it. Dark blue is the rarest color of
tanzanite. Pans never took it off until they took her to that awful
home. Her mother kept the ring then, knowing someone would
surely steal it. She must have buried her with it, though.”
“Tanzanite is not like a diamond, mind you, but certainly worth a
fair amount, especially the dark blue ones. I’m surprised her parents
didn’t sell it. They were as poor as we were. I guess they felt it
rightfully belonged with Pans. She certainly suffered enough in her
short lifetime. I’m sure they weren’t without guilt for what happened
to her.”
“As for Killian, he returned to Tanzania soon after he gave Pans
her ring, and she stopped hearing from him. Unfortunately, not long
after he left, Pans realized she was pregnant. She was left to face
the situation alone. Back then, your family disowned you if you
became pregnant out of wedlock. The church gave them no choice.”
“That’s so awful. It makes me sad to think that her own family
turned against her,” said Quinn.
“Well, not her whole family. My mother had a kind heart. She was
young and newly married herself and was friends with Pans. She had
known her all her life. They had both grown up on farms in the area.
Back then, people were close. They visited a lot. In the evenings,
families would tell stories by the fire or sing. My mother was very
fond of Pans, so she took her in. Then her parents and the church
found out and forced Pans to leave. That’s how she ended up in that
horrible place.”
“Wait,” from Quinn, “Was Pans related to us?”
“Yes, of course, she was. She was my great aunt’s daughter. She
was my cousin on my father’s side. I thought you already knew that
since you said the Garda visited you.”
“There was a picture of Pans in front of our farm. That’s why
Dermot thought it might have something to do with our family,”
replied Quinn.
 “Do you have the picture? I know the one you’re referring to. I
haven’t seen it in years.” Rose looked at Quinn expectantly.
Quinn took her phone from her purse and showed Rose the
picture. “Look at that poor girl, so broken,” exclaimed Rose. “My
god, the church has so much to atone for.”
“There’s something else you should know about, Pans.” Rose
stared intently at Quinn for a moment and then continued. “She was
another person in our family who had the Knowing. In her, it was
very strong. When she was a young child, my mother said Pans
would tell her family that she would have a child but never hold it
and that she would not live to see her twenty-fifth year. Pans was
the one who told Killian to go to Tanzania if he wanted to be rich
and successful, even though she felt strongly that he would never
marry her if he did.” Rose sighed and looked away.
“There’s one more thing I should tell you. Tanzanite enhances
the Knowing. Pans must have seen her future quite clearly, once
Killian gave her that ring.”
Quinn’s eyes went to the stone around Rose’s neck. “Is that why
you wear that?”
“Yes, I’ve found wearing this stone helpful with my abilities and
the emotions that come with it. It’s not always a pleasant
experience,… to know what’s coming, I mean. Especially if you are
helpless to change it. Pans lived her whole life knowing what was in
store for her but, I’m sure, hoping it would not be that way.” Rose
sat back and closed her eyes momentarily, stroking the stone with
her fingers.
Quinn left her grandmother’s gallery, finding it difficult to process
all Rose had told her. Mostly, she felt angry. Why was the church’s
treatment of Pans so cruel? Weren’t they meant to help people in
need?
When Quinn got home, she built a fire and poured herself a glass
of wine. She listened to the crackling and popping of the newly lit
fire for a moment and then sat down. Binx jumped into her lap and
began to purr. Quinn stroked the kitten as Maggie turned in circles
and then lay down at her feet. Pike stared at Quinn intently as he
made low, soothing little clucks from his perch. She smiled at the
bird. Her creatures were such a comfort to her. Quinn leaned back in
her chair, feeling grateful.
Soon, Fiona came in from the greenhouse. She poured herself a
glass of wine and sat down. The friends sat companionably for a few
minutes, then Quinn related all that Rose had told her.
“How did the Church get away with that? It’s just unbelievable.
They made slaves of those poor girls.” Fiona sighed and took a sip of
wine, staring into the fire. “So, this means that Hannah Byrne and
the Gillpatricks were related? And she had the Knowing, like Rose
and Owen when he was alive?”
“Yes, I know. Can you believe that? I’m still processing the fact
that the man we bought this farm from turned out to be my great
uncle and that Rose is my grandmother, and then, of course, their
gift of Knowing, and now this! A long-dead relative who also had the
gift. And all that Rose said about the stones, the Tanzanite, I mean.”
Fiona stared thoughtfully into the fire. “I wonder why someone
would steal Pans’s ring now, after all these years. And who would
even know about it? Surely, there are people in the cemetery with
more valuable items to steal. Why Pans?”
Quinn frowned. “I know. I’ve thought of that too. It just makes
little sense. This poor girl was a relative, though, and like Rose,
found herself pregnant with no one to help her. I want to sort this
out. What do you say, Fee? Are you up to another investigation?”
“Are you kidding? Of course, I am! Let’s meet with Hattie and
Margaret in the morning.” Fiona took a sip of wine and smiled. “I
can’t wait to get started.”
 CHAPTER 3

Q uinn, Fiona, Hattie, and Margaret took their usual seats at the
long pine kitchen table. This had become a ritual that they all
loved and looked forward to. The leftover pastries from Margaret’s
B&B lay on a large platter in the center of the table. Everyone had
their tea, and they were now, each, deciding which delicacy to
choose.
Fiona reached for a piece of Irish Apple Cake. Quinn grabbed a
raspberry scone, and Hattie settled on traditional Irish Soda bread.
Finally, the women were ready to talk about Pans. Quinn relayed
everything she had found out from Rose.
Margaret was the first to speak. “Should we check with the
church to see Pans’s birth and death records? That’s always a good
place to start.”
“Good idea,” from Hattie. “We need to gather as much
information as we can about her. And let’s not forget Killian. We
need to track down his last name and find out if he ever came back
to Ireland to live or if he stayed in Tanzania. Also, where did they
place the baby? We must start with those questions and work our
way forward.”
“Spoken like a true detective!” From Fiona. “And we should locate
the home they put Pans in and try to get their records. Those would
be useful.”
“Good thinking!” From Hattie.
 “I wonder how the ring plays into all of this? Somehow, I think
it’s the key to everything. I’m still shocked that Rose feels a
tanzanite stone has some power, but who am I to say it doesn’t?
Rose has abilities. I can’t deny that. I wouldn’t be alive without her
gift,” said Quinn.
After her friends left, Quinn walked out into the fields. She stood
for a moment near the stream, watching as the water rushed over
the smooth stones. Rose had, as a child, played by this very stream.
She had collected stones. They had taught her the beauty of
ordinary things. That idea had infused her whole life. Quinn caressed
the stone in her pocket. It was one that Rose had found in this
stream so long ago. She had named it The Watcher Stone. Rose
believed it had the power to protect the person who carried it. She
had given it to Quinn to keep her from harm. Did Quinn believe in its
power? If not, why did she keep it with her always? She had to
admit; she did believe. But Quinn also felt that whatever our minds
assigned power to automatically became powerful. So, which was
true? And did it even matter? Quinn wasn’t sure it did. She turned
her mind back to Pans and her baby: so many questions and so few
answers.
Quinn walked to the pigs’ enclosure. She gently stroked Hilda’s
head. Hilda made pleasant little grunting noises as she leaned into
Quinn’s hand. Tam hurried over, wanting her share of the affection.
Quinn obliged by rubbing behind her ears, knowing that was Tam’s
favorite spot. Then she watched Newman strut across his enclosure.
He was a beautiful cream-colored rooster with red markings, and he
walked with so much confidence. Quinn chuckled to herself. She
wished she could go through life with as much self-assurance as
Newman.
Next, Quinn visited the miniature donkeys. She was happy they
had settled in so nicely and had readily bonded with her and Fiona.
Donkeys were affectionate animals. They would bay with joy at the
sight of you and put their heads in the crook of your shoulder once
they came to know you. Quinn and Fiona were happy to have them
as part of their family.
 Quinn began walking back towards the cottage. Suddenly, she
felt strange. She blinked and shook her head, and continued
walking. She had the odd sensation that something was taking her
over. A foreboding seemed to snake its way through her body, a
coldness. Then, Quinn heard a voice in her head that was not her
own. It kept repeating, bring back my ring, bring back my ring.
Quinn felt frightened. What was happening to her? Next, she felt a
jolt as though something had pushed her. The voice in her head
started again, louder this time. Bring back my ring, bring back my
ring. Quinn was terrified. She ran back to the house.
Once in the cottage, Quinn built a fire and poured herself a
strong gin and tonic. She was still breathing heavily as she sat
staring into the flames, gulping down the drink.
Fiona entered the room and looked at her friend. “Quinn, what’s
wrong? What on earth has a hold of you?”
Quinn rubbed her temples for a moment. “I don’t know, Fee.
Something happened when I was with the animals.” She took
another large sip of the gin and tonic. “I heard a voice in my head.
I’ve never had an experience like that before. Like someone was
talking to me in my head.”
Fiona sat down opposite Quinn. “What did the voice say?”
Quinn thought for a long moment before replying. “The voice
kept repeating, bring back my ring, bring back my ring. It was like a
megaphone in my head. I’ve experienced nothing like it. Maybe all
this talk about Pans is affecting me. Jesus, Fiona, maybe this is all
just too much for me!”
Fiona stared at her friend. “Have you ever considered that you
might have inherited the Knowing?”
Quinn slowly made eye contact. “Oh, Fee, I don’t want it! Who
would want that?”
Fiona put her arm around her friend. “Quinn, I understand how
you feel, but think about how we ended up here. Remember our first
time in Daily Kneads when the funeral procession walked by? You
felt we belonged here. Maybe that was the Knowing? Our lives are
so much richer now because of your epiphany. If you have that gift,
it isn’t a bad thing. I’m sure of that.” Fiona smiled at her friend of so
many. “Please, don’t worry, Quinn. Talk to Rose, but I’m certain, if it
is a part of you, it’s a good part.”
 CHAPTER 4

Q uinn, again, found herself at her grandmother’s gallery. This

time, though, she was so shaken that Rose had closed the
gallery and taken Quinn upstairs to her flat.
Quinn sat in the small living room as Rose made tea. She studied
the room for a moment. Artwork covered the cream-colored walls as
light streamed in through the tall front windows, which were south
facing and overlooked the street. A small, cream-colored sofa with
pillows in lively patterns sat against the wall opposite the windows.
Two chairs in an appealing floral design completed the seating
arrangement. Antique tables held knick knacks portraying various
animals. Atop the table, nearest Quinn, sat a lovely bronze rabbit. An
old-fashioned black-painted fireplace with a Victorian-style clock on
its mantel and a framed photo of Rose and Owen added to the
homey feel of the room. Quinn stared at the picture for a moment. It
left no doubt about the closeness of the siblings. Quinn wished she
had known Owen better. Then she sat back in quiet contentment.
The room was so pleasant. It enveloped her in the most comforting
way. All the fear from the night before left her. She watched the light
play across a painting with green fields bordered by stone walls.
Wildflowers and ferns randomly poked their heads out between the
stones.
Quinn sighed deeply just as Rose entered the room carrying a
tray with tea and an assortment of biscuits. “Here we are, Quinn.
This will make you feel better.” Rose handed Quinn her tea. “We can
stay here and chat for as long as you like. Honestly, it feels good to
be of use to you.” Rose smiled as she artfully arranged the flowered
china teapot and matching plates on the table. “There now.” Rose
sat back, pleased with her work. Everything was art to Rose. She
saw the beauty in the simplest of things.
Quinn smiled. What an odd feeling it was to be cared for,
nurtured even. Her mother had never done that. It added to the
dreamlike quality life had taken on since hearing the voice. Quinn
was completely relaxed now. For a moment, she felt like she was
floating outside her body. Then, faintly, she heard Rose calling her.
“Quinn, are you alright?”
Quinn reached for Rose’s hand. “I’m okay, Rose. I’ve just never
felt like this before. Something has happened to me I don’t quite
understand. That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can. You know that, Quinn. What is it
you need?”
Quinn ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure what I need. I
realize that for my whole life, I’ve had,… this feeling. Only I never
acknowledged it. I always pushed it away, but peace settled over me
as I spent time with the animals last night. I felt a kind of clarity, like
my mind had expanded.”
Quinn stared at Rose. “I think you call it the Knowing.”
Rose smiled. “Oh, Quinn. You have finally realized; I’m so glad.
From the moment we met, I knew I could sense it. It may not be
easy to accept, but it is truly a gift. It isn’t anything to be fearful of.”
Quinn sighed and sat back in her chair, feeling more herself. “I
think I need you to tell me how this works.” She looked at Rose and
chuckled. “And do I control it, or does it control me? Tell me as
much as you can about this gift of ours, will you?”
Rose patted Quinn’s hand. “First, would you mind telling me
more about your experience?”
Quinn related everything that had happened to her the night
before, including hearing a voice.
Rose looked thoughtful. “I see.” Then she sat thinking for a
moment. “Well, Quinn. Let me think about where to start as to my
experiences. You already know I was having them as a child, and so
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
tegmina do; at first (Fig. 112, A) there is but little difference between
the two, though in the interior of the wing-flap some traces of a
radiate arrangement can be seen, as shown at W in A, Fig. 112; in a
subsequent condition the wing-pads are increased in size and are
more divided, the appearance indicating that the wings themselves
are present and packed about a centre, as shown in W of B, Fig.
112.

Fig. 112.—Notal plates from which the tegmina and wings of Forficula
auricularia are developed in young, A, and more advanced, B,
nymph.

In the young of the common earwig the number of joints[139] in the

antennae increases with age. Camerano, l.c., says that before
emergence from the egg there are apparently only 8 joints in the
antennae, and Fischer states that the larvae of F. auricularia have at
first only 8 antennal joints; later on 12 joints are commonly found,
and, according to Bateson,[140] this number occasionally persists
even in the adult individual. Meinert says[141] that the newly hatched
Forficula has either 6 or 8 joints, and he adds that in the later portion
of the preparatory stage the number is 12. Considerable discrepancy
prevails in books as to the normal number of joints in the antennae
of the adult F. auricularia, the statements varying from 13 to 15. The
latter number may be set aside as erroneous, although it is, curiously
enough, the one given in the standard works of Fischer, Brunner,
and Finot. Meinert gives without hesitation 14 as the number;
Bateson, l.c., found that 14 joints occurred in 70 or 80 per cent of
adult individuals, that 13 was not uncommon, that 12 or 11
occasionally occurred, and that the number may differ in the two
antennae of the same individual. These variations, which seem at
first sight very remarkable, may with probability be considered as
due to the fact that in the young state the number of joints increases
with age, and that the organs are so fragile that one or more of the
joints is very frequently then lost, the loss being more or less
completely repaired during the subsequent development. Thus a
disturbing agency exists, so that the normal number of 14 joints is
often departed from, though it appears to be really natural for this
species. Bateson has also pointed out that when the normal number
of articulations is not present, the relative proportions of joints 3 and
4 are much disturbed. It is, however, probable that the increase in
number of the joints takes place by division of the third or third and
fourth joints following previous growth thereof, as in Termitidae; so
that the variations, as was suggested by Bateson, may be due to
mutilation of the antennae, and consequent incompletion of the
normal form of the parts from which the renovation takes place;
growth preceding segmentation—in some cases the growth may be
like that of the adult, while the segmentation remains more
incomplete. In the young the forceps of the two sexes differ but
slightly; the form of the abdominal rings is, on the contrary, according
to Fischer, already different in the two sexes in the early stage.

The common earwig has a very bad reputation with gardeners, who
consider it to be an injurious Insect, but it is probable that the little
creature is sometimes made the scapegoat for damage done by
other animals; it appears to be fond of sweets, for it often makes its
way to the interior of fruits, and it no doubt nibbles the petals, or
other delicate parts of flowers and vegetables. Camerano, however,
states, l.c., that the specimens he kept in confinement preferred
dead Insects rather than the fruits he offered them. Rühl considers
the earwig to be fond of a carnivorous diet, eating larvae, small
snails, etc., and only attacking flowers when these fail.[142] It has a
great propensity for concealing itself in places where there is only a
small crevice for entry, and it is possible that its presence in fruits is
due to this, rather than to any special fondness for the sweets. This
habit of concealing itself in chinks and crannies in obscure places
makes it an easy matter to trap the Insect by placing pieces of hollow
stalks in the situations it affects; inverted flower-pots with a little hay,
straw, or paper at the top are also effectual traps. We have remarked
that it is very rarely seen on the wing, and though it has been
supposed to fly more freely at night there is very little evidence of the
fact. Another British species, Labia minor, a smaller Insect, is,
however, very commonly seen flying.

Earwigs have the reputation of being fond of their young, and

Camerano describes the female of the common earwig as carefully
collecting its eggs when scattered, lifting them with its mandibles and
placing them in a heap over which it afterwards brooded. De
Geer[143] more than a century ago observed a fondness of the
mother for the young. After the eggs were hatched, Camerano's
individual, however, evinced no interest in the young. A larger
species, Labidura riparia (Fig. 110) is said to move its eggs from
place to place, so as to keep them in situations favourable for their
development.

The name "earwig" is said to be due to an idea that these creatures

are fond of penetrating into the ears of persons when asleep. Hence
these Insects were formerly much dreaded, owing to a fear that they
might penetrate even to the brain. There does not appear to be on
record any occurrence that could justify such a dread, or the belief
that they enter the ears. If they do not do so, it is certainly a curious
fact that a superstition of the kind we have mentioned occurs in
almost every country where the common earwig is abundant; for it
has, in most parts of Europe, a popular name indicating the
prevalence of some such idea. It is known as Ohren-wurm in
German, as perce-oreille in French, and so on. The expanded wing
of the earwig is in shape so very like the human ear, that one is
tempted to suppose this resemblance may in former ages have
given rise to the notion that the earwig has some connexion with the
human ear; but this explanation is rendered very improbable by the
fact that the earwig is scarcely ever seen with its wings expanded,
and that it is a most difficult matter to unfold them artificially, so that it
is very unlikely that the shape of the wings should have been
observed by untutored peoples.

The group Forficulidae seems to be most rich in species in warm and

tropical regions; several unwinged species are met with in the
mountainous districts of Europe; indeed, in some spots their
individuals are extremely numerous under stones. In Britain we have
a list of six species, but only two of these are to be met with; the
others have probably been introduced by the agency of man, and it
is doubtful whether more than one of these immigrants is actually
naturalised here. One of these doubtfully native species is the fine
Labidura riparia (Fig. 110), which was formerly found near
Bournemouth. Altogether about 400 species of earwigs are known at
the present time, and as they are usually much neglected by Insect
collectors, it is certain that this number will be very largely increased,
so that it would be a moderate estimate to put the number of existing
species at about 2000 or 3000. None of them attain a very large
size, Psalis americana being one of the largest and most robust of
the family; a few display brilliant colours, and some exhibit a colour
ornamentation of the surface; there are two or three species known
that display a general resemblance to Insects of other Orders. The
remarkable earwig represented in Fig. 102 (and which appears to be
a nondescript form—either species or variety—closely allied to P.
marmoricauda) was found by Baron von Hügel on the mountains of
Java; the femora in this Insect have a broad face which is turned
upwards instead of outwards, the legs taking a peculiar position; and
it is curious that this exposed surface is ornamented with a pattern.
The feature that most attracts attention on inspecting a collection of
earwigs is, however, the forceps, and this is the most marked
collective character of the group. These curious organs exhibit a very
great variety; in some cases they are as long as the whole of the rest
of the body, in others they are provided with tynes; sometimes they
are quite asymmetrical, as in Anisolabis tasmanica (Fig. 113); in
Opisthocosmia cervipyga, and many others they are curiously
distorted in a variety of ways. The classification of the earwigs is still
in a rudimentary state; the number of joints in the antennae, the form
of the feet, and (in the terrestrial forms) the shape of the rudimentary
wing-cases and wings being the characters that have been made
most use of by systematists; no arrangement into sub-families or
groups of greater importance than genera is adopted.
The only particulars we have as to the embryological development of
the earwig are due to Heymons.[144] The forceps spring from the
eleventh abdominal segment, and represent the cerci of other
Orthoptera. An egg-tooth is found to be present on the head for
piercing the egg-shell. The embryo reverses its curved position
during the development, as other Orthoptera have been observed to
do, but in a somewhat different manner, analogous to that of the
Myriapods.

Several fossil Forficulidae are known; specimens belonging to a

peculiar genus have been described from the Lower Lias of Aargau
and from the Jurassic strata in Eastern Siberia, but the examples
apparently are not in a very satisfactory state of preservation. In the
Tertiary formations earwigs have been found more frequently.
Scudder has described eleven species of one peculiar genus from
the Lower Miocene beds at Florissant in Colorado; some of these
specimens have been found with the wings expanded, and no doubt
that they were fully developed Forficulidae can exist. The fossil
species of earwigs as yet known do not display so remarkable a
development of the forceps as existing forms do.

Fig. 113.—Anisolabis tasmanica ♂.

Brauer and others treat the Forficulidae as a separate Order of

Insects—Dermaptera—but the only structural characters that can be
pointed out as special to the group are the peculiar form of the
tegmina and hind wings—which latter, as we have said on p. 206,
are considered by some to be formed on essentially the same plan
as those of other Orthoptera—the imbrication of the segments, and
the forceps terminating the body. The development, so far as it is
known, is that of the normal Orthoptera. Thus the Forficulidae are a
very distinct division of Orthoptera, the characters that separate
them being comparatively slight, though there are no intermediate
forms. Some of those who treat the Dermaptera as a sub-Order
equivalent to the rest of the divisions of the Order, call the latter
combination Euorthoptera.

Fam. II. Hemimeridae.

Apterous, blind Insects with exserted head, having a constricted neck, mouth
placed quite inferiorly; the thoracic sterna large, imbricate. Hind body elongate, the
segments imbricate, the dorsal plates being large and overlapping the ventral; the
number of visible segments being different according to sex: a pair of long
unsegmented cerci at the extremity. Coxae small, widely separated. Development
intra-uterine.

Fig. 114.—Hemimerus hanseni, female. Africa. (After Hansen.)

Fig. 115.—Under side of head and front of prothorax of Hemimerus. a,

base of antenna; b, articulation of antenna; c, labrum; d,
mandible; e, condyle of mandible; f, articular membrane of
mandible; g, stipes of maxilla; h, exterior lobe; i, palpus of maxilla;
k, submentum; l, mentum; m, terminal lobe of labium; n, labial
palp; o, plate between submentum and sternum; p, prosternum; q,
cervical sclerites. (After Hansen.)
In describing the labium of Mandibulata, p. 97, we alluded to the
genus Hemimerus as reputed to possess a most peculiar mouth.
When our remarks were made little was known about this Insect; but
a very valuable paper[145] by Dr. H. J. Hansen on it has since
appeared, correcting some errors and supplying us with information
on numerous points. M. de Saussure described the Insect as
possessing two lower lips, each bearing articulated palpi, and he
therefore proposed to treat Hemimerus as the representative of a
distinct Order of Insects, to be called Diploglossata. It now appears
that the talented Swiss entomologist was in this case deceived by a
bad preparation, and that the mouth shows but little departure from
the ordinary mandibulate type. There is a large inflexed labrum; the
mandibles are concealed by the maxillae, but are large, compressed,
and on their inner edge toothed. The maxillae are well developed,
are surmounted by two lobes and bear five-jointed palpi. The ligula
appears to be broad and short, and formed of two parts longitudinally
divided; the short palpi consist of three segments. The mentum is
very large. The lingua is present in the form of a free pubescent lobe
with a smaller lobe on each side. The structure of the pleura is not
fully understood; that of the abdomen seems to be very like the
earwigs, with a similar difference in the sexes. The cerci are
something like those of Gryllidae, being long, flexible, and
unsegmented. The legs have rather small coxae, and three-jointed
tarsi, two of which are densely studded with fine hairs beneath, as in
Coleoptera. It is difficult to detect the stigmata, but Dr. Hansen
believes there are ten pairs.

Fig. 116.—Foetus of Hemimerus. (After Hansen.) a, Antenna; b, organ

from the neck; c, cerci; d, membrane (? cast skins).
 Fig. 117.—Hemimerus talpoides. Africa. (After de Saussure.) A, Upper;
B, under surface.

The species described by Dr. Hansen as H. talpoides is probably

distinct from that of Walker, though both come from equatorial West
Africa. Dr. Hansen's species, which may be called H. hanseni, has
been found living on the body of a large rat, Cricetomys gambianus;
the Insect occurred on a few specimens only of the mammal, but
when found was present in considerable numbers; it runs with
rapidity among the hairs and apparently also springs. The nature of
its food is by no means clear. Not the least remarkable fact in
connexion with this peculiar Insect is its gestation. The young are
borne inside the mother, apparently about six at a time, the larger
one being of course the nearest to the orifice. Dr. Hansen thinks the
young specimens are connected with the walls of the maternal
passages by means of a process from the neck of each. But the
details of this and other points are insufficiently ascertained; it is,
indeed, difficult to understand how, with a process of the kind of
which a fragment is shown in Fig. 116, b, the Insect could fix itself
after a detachment for change of position. The young is said to be
very like the adult, but with a simpler structure of the antennae and
abdomen. On the whole, it appears probable that Hemimerus is, as
stated by Dr. Hansen, a special family of Orthoptera allied to
Forficulidae; further information both as to structure and
development are, however, required, as the material at the
disposition of the Swedish entomologist was very small.

CHAPTER IX
 ORTHOPTERA CONTINUED—BLATTIDAE, COCKROACHES

Fam. III. Blattidae—Cockroaches.

Orthoptera with the head deflexed, in repose concealed from above, being flexed
on to the under-surface with the anterior part directed backwards. All the coxae
large, free, entirely covering the sternal surfaces of the three thoracic segments,
as well as the base of the abdomen. The sternal sclerites of the thoracic segments
little developed, being weak and consisting of pieces that do not form a continuous
exo-skeleton; tegmina and wings extremely variable, sometimes entirely absent.
The wings possess a definite anal region capable of fan-like folding; rarely the
wing is also transversely folded. The three pairs of legs differ but little from one
another.

Fig. 118.—Heterogamia aegyptiaca. A, male; B, female. (After

Brunner.)

The Blattidae, or cockroaches, are an extensive family of Insects,

very much neglected by collectors, and known to the ordinary
observer chiefly from the fact that a few species have become
naturalised in various parts of the world in the houses of man. One
such species is abundant in Britain, and is the "black beetle" of
popular language; the use of the word beetle in connexion with
cockroaches is, however, entomologically incorrect. One or two
members of the family are also well known, owing to their being used
as the "corpora vilia" for students commencing anatomical
investigation of the Arthropoda; for this purpose they are
recommended by their comparatively large size and the ease with
which an abundant supply of specimens may always be procured,
but it must be admitted that in some respects they give but a poor
idea of Insect-structure, and that to some persons they are very
repulsive.
The inflexed position of the head is one of the most characteristic
features of the Blattidae; in activity it is partially released from this
posture, but the mouth does not appear to be capable of the full
extension forwards that is found in other Insects that inflex the head
in repose. The labium is deeply divided, the lingua forms a large lobe
reposing on the cleft. The maxillary palpi have two basal short joints,
and three longer joints beyond these; the labial palps consist of three
joints of moderate length. The under-surface of the head is formed in
large part by the submentum, which extends back to the occipital
foramen.

Fig. 119.—Under-surface of Periplaneta australasiae. c, Coxae.

The front of the head is the aspect that in repose looks directly
downwards; the larger part of it is formed by the clypeus, which is
separated from the epicranium by a very fine suture angulate in the
middle; there is a large many-facetted eye on each side; near to the
eye a circular space serves for the insertion of the antenna; close to
this and to the eye there is a peculiar small area of paler colour,
frequently membranous, called the fenestra, and which in the males
of Corydia and Heterogamia is replaced by an ocellus. The antennae
are very elongate and consist of a large number of minute rings or
joints, frequently about 100. The head is not inserted directly in the
thorax, as is the case in so many Insects; but the front of the thorax
has a very large opening, thus the neck between it and the head is of
more than usual importance; it includes six cervical sclerites.

The pronotum is more or less like a shield in form, and frequently

entirely conceals the head, and thus looks like the most anterior part
of the body; usually it has no marked angles, but in some of the
apterous forms the hind angles are sharp and project backwards. In
contrast to the pronotum the prosternum is small and feeble, and
consists of a slender lateral strip on each side, the two converging
behind to unite with a median piece, the prosternum proper. None of
these pieces of the ventral aspect of the prothorax are ordinarily
visible, the side-pieces being covered by the inflexed head, and the
median piece by the great coxae. In some of the winged Blattidae
(Blabera, e.g.) there is at the base of each anterior coxa a small
space covered by a more delicate membrane, that suggests the
possibility of the existence of a sensory organ there (Fig. 120, i).[146]
At the base of—above and behind—the front coxa the prothoracic
spiracle is situate.

Fig. 120.—Base of front leg and portion of prothorax of Blabera

gigantea. a, Under-side of pronotum; b, fold of pronotum?; c,
epimeron?; d, episternum?; e, trochantin; f, coxa; g, trochanter; h,
base of femur; i, presumed sense organ.

The meso- and meta-thoracic segments differ but slightly from one
another; the notal or dorsal pieces are moderately large, while the
sternal or ventral are remarkably rudimentary, and are frequently
divided on the middle line. Connected with the posterior part of each
sternum there is a piece, bent upwards, called by some anatomists
the furca; when the sterna are divided the furca may extend forwards
between them; in other cases it is so obscure externally as to leave
its existence in some doubt.

The sterna in Blattidae are remarkable for their rudimentary

structure. This is probably correlated with the great development of
the coxae, which serve as shields to the lower part of the body. The
pieces of the sterna are not only small, but are also of feeble
consistence—semi-membranous, in fact—and appear like thicker
portions of the more extensive and delicate membrane in which they
are situate; they sometimes differ considerably in the sexes of the
same species. The coxae have very large bases, and between them
and the sterna are some pieces that are grooved and plicate, so that
it is not easy to decide as to their distinctions and homology (Fig.
120). The second breathing orifice is a slit placed in a horny area in
the membrane between the middle and hind coxae.

The legs are remarkable for the large and numerous spines borne by
the tibiae, and frequently also by the femora: the trochanters are
distinct and of moderate size; the tarsi are five-jointed, frequently the
basal four joints are furnished with a pad beneath; the fifth joint is
elongate, bears two claws, and frequently between these a
projecting lobe or arolium; this process scarcely exists in the young
of Stilopyga orientalis, the common cockroach, though it is well
developed in the adult. The hind body or abdomen is always large,
and its division into rings is very visible, but the exact number of
these that can be seen varies according to age, sex, species, and to
whether the dorsal or ventral surface be examined. The differences
are chiefly due to the retraction and inflexion of the apical segments;
the details of the form of these parts differ in nearly every species. It
is, however, considered that ten dorsal and ventral plates exist,
though the latter are not so easily demonstrated as the former. The
basal segment is often much diminished, the first dorsal plate being
closely connected with the metanotum, while the first ventral may be
still more rudimentary; much variety exists on this point. In the
female two of the ventral terminal plates are frequently inflexed, so
as to be quite invisible without dissection. From the sides of the tenth
segment spring the cerci, flat or compressed processes very various
in size, length, and form, usually more or less distinctly jointed.
Systematists call the seventh ventral plate of the female the "lamina
subgenitalis," or the "lamina subgenitalis spuria," the concealed
eighth plate being in this latter case considered the true subgenital
plate. In the male this term is applied to the ventral plate of the ninth
segment, the corresponding dorsal plate being called the "lamina
supra-analis." These terms are much used in the systematic
definitions of the genera and larger groups.

The males, in addition to the cerci alluded to as common to both

sexes, are provided on the hind margin of the lamina subgenitalis
with a pair of slender styles. These are wanting in the females, but in
the common cockroach the young individuals of that sex are
provided, like the male, with these peculiar organs. M. Peytoureau
has described[147] the mode of their disappearance, viz. by a series
of changes at the ecdyses. Cholodkovsky, who has examined the
styles, considers them to be embryologically the homologues of true
legs.[148] These styles are said not to be present in any shape in
some species—Ectobia, Panesthia, etc.; this probably refers only to
the adults. In some cases a curious condition occurs, inasmuch as
one of the two styles is absent, and is replaced by a notch on the
right side, thus causing an asymmetry—Phyllodromia, Temnopteryx,
etc.

It has been found in several species that there are eight pairs of
abdominal spiracles, making, with the two thoracic, ten pairs in all.
The first of the abdominal spiracles is larger than the others, and in
the winged species may be easily detected by raising the tegmina
and wings, it being more dorsal in position than those following,
which are in some species exposed on the ventral surface owing to
the cutting away of the hind angles of the ventral plates; but the
terminal spiracles are in all cases difficult to detect, and it is possible
that the number may not be the same in all the species of the family.
The cerci exhibit a great deal of variety. In the species with elongate
tegmina and wings the cerci are elongate, and are like antennae in
structure; in many of the purely apterous forms the cerci appear to
be entirely absent (cf. Fig. 130, Gromphadorhina), but on
examination may be found to exist in the form of a small plate, or
papilla scarcely protuberant. In the males of Heterogamia they are,
on the contrary, very like little antennae; in the unwinged females of
this genus they are concealed in a chink existing on the under-
surface of the apex of the body.

The alar organs of Blattidae are of considerable interest from several

points of view. They exist in various conditions as regards size and
development, and in some forms are very large; each tegmen in
some species of the genus Blabera (Fig. 132) may attain a length of
nearly three inches; in other cases wings and tegmina are entirely
absent, and various intermediate conditions are found. In Fig. 121
we give a diagram of the tegmen or front wing, A, and the hind wing,
B, to explain the principal nervures and areas. The former are four in
number, and, adopting Brunner's nomenclature[149] for them, are
named proceeding from before backwards mediastinal, a; radial, b;
infra-median (or ulnar), c; and dividens, d. An adventitious vein, vena
spuria, existing in the hind wings of certain genera is marked sp in B.

Fig. 121.—Diagram of tegmen, A, and wing, B, in Blattidae. Nervures:

a, mediastinal; b, radial; c, ulnar or infra-median; d, dividens; sp,
spuria. Areas: 1, mediastinal or marginal; 2, scapular or radial; 3,
median; 4, anal or axillary.

The vena dividens is of great importance, as it marks off the anal or

axillary field, which in both tegmen and wing has a different system
of minor veins from what obtains in the rest of the organ; the veins
being in the anterior region abundantly branching and dichotomous
(Fig. 132), while in the anal field there is but little furcation, though
the nervures converge much at the base. The mediastinal gives off
minor veins towards the front only, the radial gives off veinlets at first
towards the front, but nearer the tip of the wings sends off minor
veins both backwards and forwards. The infra-median or ulnar vein
is very variable; it is frequently abbreviated, and on the whole is of
subordinate importance to the other three. These latter thus form
four chief areas or fields, viz.—1, mediastinal or marginal; 2,
scapular or radial; 3, median; and 4, anal. These nervures and
divisions may be traced in a large number of existing and fossil
Blattidae, but there are forms existing at present which it is difficult to
reduce to the same plan. In Euthyrhapha, found in the Pacific
Islands, the hind wings are long and project beyond the tegmina, and
have a very peculiar arrangement of the nervures; the species of
Holocampsa also possess abnormal alar organs, while the structure
of these parts in Diaphana (Fig. 122) is so peculiar that Brunner
wisely refrains from attempting to homologise their nervures with
those of the more normal Blattidae. The alar organs are frequently
extremely different in the two sexes of the same species of Blattidae,
and the hind wing may differ much from the tegmen as regards
degree of departure from the normal. So that it is not a matter for
surprise that the nervures in different genera cannot be satisfactorily
homologised.

Fig. 122.—Diaphana fieberi. Brazil. A, The Insect, natural size; B,

tegmen, and C, wing, magnified. (After Brunner.)

But the most peculiar wings in the family are the folded structures
found in some forms of the groups Ectobiides and Oxyhaloides
[Anaplectinae and Plectopterinae of de Saussure]. These have been
studied by de Saussure,[150] and in Fig. 123 we reproduce some of
his sketches, from which it will be seen that in B and C the wing is
divided by an unusual cross-joint into two parts, the apical portion
being also longitudinally divided into two pieces a and b. Such a form
of wing as is here shown has no exact parallel in any of the other
groups of Insects, though the earwigs and some of the Coleoptera
make an approach to it. This structure permits a very perfect folding
of the wing in repose. The peculiarities exhibited have been
explained by de Saussure somewhat as follows. In the ordinary
condition of Orthoptera the axillary or anal field (P) when the wings
are closed collapses like a fan, and also doubles under the anterior
part (H) of the wing along the line a a, in Fig. 123, A, the result being
similar to that shown by our Fig. 124. It will be noticed in Fig. 123, A,
that a small triangular area (t) exists at the tip of the wing just where
the fold takes place, so that when the wing is shut this little piece is
liberated, as shown in t, Fig. 124. In many Blattidae, e.g. Blabera
(Fig. 132), no trace of this little intercalated piece can be found, but
in others it exists in various degrees of development intermediate
between what is shown in Thorax porcellana (Fig. 123, A) and in
Anaplecta azteca (123, B), so that a, b of the latter may be looked on
as a greater development of the condition shown in A at t. It will be
noticed that the superadded part of the wing of 123, B, possesses no
venation, being traversed only by the line along which it folds; but in
the wing of Diploptera silpha, 123, C, the corresponding part is
complexly venated. This venation, as Brunner says,[151] is not an
extension of the ordinary venation of the wing, but is sui generis. It is
curious that though all the degrees of development between A and B
exist in various forms of the tribes Ectobiides and Oxyhaloides, yet
there is nothing to connect the veined apex of Diploptera with the
unveined one of Anaplecta.

Fig. 123.—Hind wings of Blattidae. A, Thorax porcellana; B, Anaplecta

azteca; C, Diploptera silpha. (After de Saussure.)
 Fig. 124.—Hind wing of Blatta folded. t, Free triangular area. (After de
Saussure.)

The internal anatomy of Blattids has been investigated in only one or

two species. There are no great peculiarities, but some features of
minor interest exist. The alimentary canal (Fig. 125) is remarkable on
account of the capacious crop, and the small gut-like, chylific
ventricle; eight elongate pouches are situate on this latter part at its
junction with the gizzard.

The Malpighian tubules are very numerous and delicate; there are
extensive salivary glands and reservoirs; and on the anterior part of
the true stomach there are eight caecal diverticula. The great chain
of the nervous system consists in all of eleven ganglia—two
cephalic, three thoracic, and six abdominal.

The ovaries in Stilopyga orientalis consist each of eight egg-tubes,

placed at the periphery of a common receptacle or oviduct, the pair
of receptacles themselves opening into a common chamber—the
uterus—which is surrounded by a much branching serific or
colleterial gland. In this chamber the egg-case is formed from the
secretion of the gland just mentioned. According to Miall and Denny,
[152] there is a spermatheca which opens not into the uterus but into
the cloacal chamber behind it. Lowne doubts this diverticulum being
a true spermatheca. The manner in which the eggs are fertilised and
their capsule modelled is uncertain.[153]
 Fig. 125.—Alimentary canal of Stilopyga orientalis. (After Dufour.) a,
Head; b, salivary glands; c, salivary reservoir; d, crop; e,
diverticula placed below proventriculus; f, stomach; g, small
intestine; h, rectum; i, Malpighian tubes; k, extremity of hind body.

The internal reproductive organs of the male are very complex in

Stilopyga orientalis; each testis consists of a number (30 to 40) of
vesicles placed on a tube which is prolonged to form the vas
deferens. There is a very peculiar large complex gland consisting of
longer and shorter utricles, opening into the vesiculae seminales,
and forming a "mushroom-shaped gland."[154] This gland is much
larger than the testes proper, which, it is said, lose early their
functional activity in the species in question, and shrivel. There is
another important accessory gland, the conglobate gland of Miall
and Denny, opening on a portion of the external copulatory armour.

Although some species of Blattidae are domesticated in our houses,

and their bodies have been dissected by a generation of anatomists,
very little is known as to their life histories. The common "black
beetle" of the kitchen is said by Cornelius to be several years in
attaining the adult state. Observations made at Cambridge by the
writer, as well as others now being carried on there by Mr. H. H.
Brindley, quite confirm this view, the extent of growth accomplished
in several months being surprisingly little, and the amount of food
consumed very small. It is therefore not improbable that the life of an
individual of this species may extend to five years. Phyllodromia
germanica, a species that is abundant in the dwellings of the peoples
of north-eastern Europe, attains its full development in the course of
a few months.

We have already alluded to the fact that in the Blattidae the eggs are
laid in a capsule formed in the interior of the mother-Insect. This
capsule is a horny case varying much in size and somewhat less in
form in the different species; it is borne about for some time by the
mother, who may not infrequently be seen running about with it
protruding from the hinder part of the body. Sooner or later the
capsule is deposited in a suitable situation, and the young
cockroaches emerge; it is said that they are sometimes liberated by
the aid of the mother. Mr. Brindley has found it very difficult to
procure the hatching of the young from their capsules.

Fig. 126.—Egg-capsules of European Blattidae. A, Ectobia lapponica;

B, Phyllodromia germanica; C, Heterogamia aegyptiaca. (After
Brunner.)

It is known that some Blattidae are viviparous. In the case of one

such species, Panchlora viridis, it appears probable that the egg-
capsule is either wanting, or is present in only a very imperfect form.
[155]

On emerging the young Blatta is in general form very similar to the

parent, though usually much paler in colour. After casting the skin an
uncertain number of times—not less than five, probably as many as
seven—it reaches the adult condition, the changes of outer form that
it undergoes being of a gradual nature, except that at the last
ecdysis the wings—in the case of the winged species—make their
appearance, and the terminal segments of the body undergo a
greater change of form. What mutations of shape may be undergone
by the thoracic segments previous to the final production of the
wings has not apparently been accurately recorded, Fischer's
opinion being evidently based on very slight observation. The little
that has been recorded as to the post-embryonic development since
the observations of Hummel[156] and Cornelius[157] will be found in
the works of Brunner.[158] According to this latter authority, in the
wingless species the terminal segments of the body have the same
form in the early stages as they have in the adult state, so that this
latter condition can only be recognised by the greater hardness of
the integument. When tegmina or wings are present in a well-
developed form in a Blattid, it is certain that the Insect is adult; and
when there can be seen at the side of the mesonotum or metanotum
a piece, however small, separated by a distinct suture, it may be
correctly assumed that the individual is an adult of a species having
only rudimentary alar organs. The adult female of the common
Stilopyga orientalis shows this phenomenon.

The cockroaches are remarkable for the excessive rapidity with

which they run, or rather scurry, their gait being very peculiar. The
common domestic forms, when alarmed, disappear with great agility,
seeking obscure corners in which to hide themselves, it being part of
their instinct to flee from light. Hence they are called lucifugous, and
are most of them entirely nocturnal in their activities. In the South of
Europe and other warmer regions many Blattidae may, however, be
found on bushes and foliage in the daytime; these, when alarmed,
fall down and run off with such speed and in so tortuous a manner,
that it is a very difficult matter to seize them. It is recorded that the
males of the genus Heterogamia are attracted by lights, though their
apterous females keep themselves concealed underground in sandy
places.

We may take this opportunity of alluding to the attraction that light

exerts on Insects. Many species that conceal themselves during the
daytime and shun light as if it were disagreeable, are at night-time so
fascinated by it that it is the cause of their destruction. The quantity
of Insects killed in this way by electric and other bright lights is now
enormous; in many species the individuals immolate themselves by
myriads. It would appear that only nocturnal and winged species are