THE CAPRICORN 



In wandering lazily through the thickness of the oak, in 

 making roads whose rubbish serves as food. The horse 

 in the book of Job "swallows the ground" in a figure of 

 speech: the Capricorn's grub eats its way literally. 

 With its carpenter's-gouge — a strong black mandible, 

 short and without notches, but scooped into a sharp- 

 edged spoon — it digs the opening of its tunnel. From 

 the piece cut out the grub extracts the scanty juices, while 

 the refuse accumulates behind him in heaps. The path 

 is devoured as it is made; it is blocked behind as it makes 

 way ahead. 



Since this harsh work is done with the two gouges, the 

 two curved chisels of the mandibles, the Capricorn-grub 

 requires much strength in the front part of its body, 

 which therefore swells into a sort of pestle. The Bu- 

 prestis-grub, that other industrious carpenter, adopts a 

 similar form, and even exaggerates its pestle. The part 

 that toils and carves hard wood requires to be robust ; the 

 rest of the body, which has but to follow after, continues 

 slim. The essential thing is that the implement of the 

 jaws should possess a solid support and powerful ma- 

 chinery. The Capricorn larva strengthens its chisels 

 with a stout, black, horny armour that surrounds the 

 mouth; yet, apart from its skull and its equipment of 

 tools, this grub has a skin as fine as satin and as white 

 as ivory. This dead white is caused by a thick layer of 

 grease, which one would not expect a diet of wood to 



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