More Beetles 



adorned with sheets of gold. This testifies 

 to the bill of fare. It is not highly nourish- 

 ing nor particularly plentiful and it tastes 

 bitter; but, after all, a few Carabi help to 

 stay the appetite a little. 



As regards the Toad, I have similar evi- 

 dence. In summer, in the garden-paths, 

 from time to time I happen on some curious 

 objects whose origin at first leaves me quite 

 undecided. They are small black sausages, 

 the thickness of my little finger, which crum- 

 ble very easily after drying in the sun. We 

 recognize a conglomeration of Ants' heads 

 and nothing besides, unless it be some rem- 

 nants of slender leg. What can this singular 

 product be, this granular amalgam consisting 

 of hundreds and hundreds of heads packed 

 close together? 



One's mind turns to a ball disgorged by 

 the Owl after the nourishing part has been 

 sorted by the stomach. Further reflection 

 discards the idea: a nocturnal bird of prey, 

 though fond of insects, does not feed on such 

 tiny game as this. To catch on the sticky 

 tip of the tongue such very small fry and 

 to collect them one by one calls for a con- 

 sumer endowed with plenty of time and 

 patience. Who is it? Could it be the 

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