The Sacred Beetle: the Pear 



this first revelation of the Scarab's maternal 

 masterpiece. My excitement could have 

 been no greater had I been an archaeologist 

 digging among the ancient relics of Egypt 

 and lighting upon the sacred insect of the 

 dead, carved in emerald, in some Pharaonic 

 crypt. O ineffable moment, when truth 

 suddenly shines forth! What other joys 

 can compare with that holy rapture ! The 

 shepherd was in the seventh heaven; he 

 laughed in response to my smile and was 

 happy in my gladness. 



Luck does not repeat itself: '* Non bis 

 in idem," says the old adage. And here 

 have I twice had under my eyes this curious 

 pear-shape. Is it by any chance the normal 

 shape, not subject to exception? Must we 

 abandon the thought of a sphere similar to 

 those which the insect rolls along the 

 ground? Let us continue and we shall see. 



A second hole is found. Like the previous 

 one, it contains a pear. My two treasures 

 are as hke as two peas; they might have 

 issued from the same mould. And here is 

 a valuable confirmatory detail: in the second 

 burrow, by the side of the pear and fondly 

 embracing it, is the mother Beetle, engaged 

 no doubt in giving it the finishing touches 

 before leaving the underground cave for 

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