The Sacred Beetle and Others 



thought that I was being funny. Poor 

 Joseph was scolded, called all manner of 

 names and threatened with dismissal if it 

 happened again. It didn't. 



I had one resource left, which was to go 

 ignominiously along the high-road and 

 furtively collect my captives' daily bread in 

 a paper bag. This I did and I am not 

 ashamed of it. Sometimes fortune favoured 

 me: a Donkey carrying the produce of the 

 Chateau-Renard or Barbentane kitchen- 

 gardens to the Avignon market would drop 

 his contribution as he passed my door. The 

 gratuity, picked up instantly, made me rich 

 jfor several days. In short, by scheming, 

 waiting, running about and playing the 

 diplomat for a blob of dung, I managed to 

 feed my prisoners. If a passion for one's 

 work and a love which nothing can dis- 

 courage ensure success, my experiment ought 

 to have succeeded. It did not succeed. 

 After a time, my Sacred Beetles, pining for 

 their native heath in a space too limited for 

 their elaborate evolutions, died miserable 

 deaths, without revealing their secret. The 

 Gymnopleuri and Onthophagi were not so 

 disappointing. At the proper time I shall 

 make use of the Information which I ob- 

 tained from them. 



44 



