The Sacred Beetle and Others 



the Grasshopper's faint stridulation, which 

 to me remains silence. He lends me his 

 sight and hearing; and I, in exchange, pre- 

 sent him with ideas, which he receives atten- 

 tively, raising wide, blue, questioning eyes to 

 mine. 



Oh, what an adorable thing is the first 

 blossoming of the intellect; what a beautiful 

 age is that when innocent curiosity awakens, 

 enquiring into all things ! So little Paul has 

 his own vivarium, in which the Sacred Beetle 

 makes pears for him; his own little garden, 

 no larger than a pocket-handkerchief, where 

 he grows beans, often digging them up to see 

 if the tiny roots are growing longer; his 

 forest plantation, in which stand four oaks 

 a hand's-breadth high, still furnished on one 

 side with the twin-breasted acorn that feeds 

 them. It all makes a welcome change from 

 dry grammar, which gets on none the worse 

 for it. 



What beautiful and delightful things 

 natural history could put Into children's heads 

 if science would but stoop to charm the 

 young; if our barracks of colleges would but 

 add the living study of the fields to the life- 

 less study of books; if the red tape of the 

 curriculum beloved by bureaucrats did not 

 strangle any eager initiative ! Little Paul, 

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