The Spanish Copris: the Eggs 



as the glass-jars, with their freedom from 

 subterranean obscurity, tell us. 



They come up again at the time of the 

 first autumnal rains, in September. But by 

 then the new generation has attained its 

 perfect form. The mother, therefore, en- 

 joys in her underground home that rare 

 privilege for an insect, the joy of knowing 

 her family; she hears her children scratching 

 at the shell to obtain their liberty; she is 

 present at the bursting of the casket which 

 she has fashioned so conscientiously; maybe 

 she helps the exhausted weaklings when the 

 ground has not been cool enough to soften 

 the walls. Mother and progeny leave the 

 under-world together; and together they ar- 

 rive at the autumn banquets, when the sun 

 is mild and the ovine manna abounds along 

 the paths. 



The flower-pots teach us something else. 

 I place on the surface a few separate couples 

 taken from their burrows at the outset of the 

 building-operations. They are given a gene- 

 rous supply of provisions. Each couple 

 buries itself, settles down and starts hoard- 

 ing; then, after ten days or so, the male re- 

 appears on the surface, under the sheet of 

 glass. The other does not stir an inch. 

 The eggs are laid, the food-balls are shaped, 



201 



