Well, the insect of which I am speaking, a kind of _semi_, makes a sound resembling the sound of the words "Katie did!" Hence the name--one of the few corresponding to the names given to the Japanese _semi_, such as _tsuku-tsuku-boshi_, or _minmin-semi_.

The most interesting composition upon this cicada is by Oliver Wendell Holmes, but it is of the lighter sort of verse, with a touch of humour in it.

I shall quote a few verses only, as the piece contains some allusions that would require explanation at considerable length.
I love to hear thine earnest voice, Wherever thou art hid, Thou testy little dogmatist, Thou pretty Katydid! Thou mindest me of gentlefolks,-- Old gentlefolks are they,-- Thou say'st an undisputed thing In such a solemn way.
* * * * * Oh tell me where did Katy live, And what did Katy do?
And was she very fair and young, And yet so wicked, too?
Did Katy love a naughty man, Or kiss more cheeks than one?
I warrant Katy did no more Than many a Kate has done.
* * * * * Ah, no! The living oak shall crash, That stood for ages still, The rock shall rend its mossy base And thunder down the hill, Before the little Katydid Shall add one word, to tell The mystic story of the maid Whose name she knows so well.
The word "testy" may be a little unfamiliar to some of you; it is a good old-fashioned English term for "cross," "irritable." The reference to the "old gentlefolks" implies the well-known fact that in argument old persons are inclined to be much more obstinate than young people.

And there is also a hint in the poem of the tendency among old ladies to blame the conduct of young girls even more severely than may be necessary.

There is nothing else to recommend the poem except its wit and the curiousness of the subject.