The Sacred Beetle and Others 



What she does not give normally I create 

 artificially by piling sheaf upon sheaf. Be- 

 neath this extraordinary treasure, the like of 

 which is never offered by the fields, my cap- 

 tives work with a zest that shows how well 

 they appreciate the windfall. They enrich 

 me with more sausages than I know what to 

 do with. I arrange them in strata in great 

 pots, so that, when winter comes, I may 

 study the actions of the larva; I lodge them 

 separately in glass tubes and test-tubes; I 

 pack them in tins. The shelves of my study 

 are crammed with them. My collection re- 

 minds me of an assortment of potted meats. 



The unfamiliarity of the material involves 

 no change in the structure. Because of its 

 finer grain and greater plasticity, the surface 

 Is more regular and the inside more homo- 

 geneous; and that is all. 



At the lower end of the sausage, which end 

 is always rounded off, is the hatching-cham- 

 ber, a circular cavity which could hold a fair- 

 sized hazel-nut. The respiratory needs of 

 the germ demand that the side-walls should 

 be thin enough to allow the air to enter freely. 

 Inside, I catch the gleam of a greenish, semi- 

 fluid plaster, a simple exudation from the 

 porous mass, as In the Copris' ovolds and the 

 Sacred Beetle's pears. 

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