Again they look like diminutive flocks of fowl, their heads ever
pointing in one direction, no matter how the vine may twist and
turn - always toward the top of the branch, that they may the
better siphon the sap down their tiny throats. Toward the end of
summer the females, which have a sharp instrument at the rear of
their bodies, cut deeply into the juicy food-store, the cambium
layer of bark, and there deposit their eggs. Presently, a nest
being filled, the mother emits a substantial froth at the end of
her ovipositor, and proceeds to construct the cottony, corrugated
dome over her nursery which first attracted our attention. This
is especially skilful work, for she works behind her, evidently
not from sight, but from instinct only. Inasmuch as the young
hoppers will not come forth until the following summer, some such
snug protection is required during winter's cold and snows. With
hordes of little parasites constantly preying on its juices, is
it any wonder the vine is often too enfeebled to produce seed, or
that the leaves lose part of their color and become, as we say,
variegated? Occasionally one finds the cottony nursery domes of
this little hopper on the locust tree - the favorite home of its
big, noisy relative, the so-called locust, or cicada.
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