The Spotted Larinus 



Nevertheless, nothing in the grub of the 

 Spotted Larinus reveals the skilful builder 

 of thatched huts. It is a little sausage of a 

 creature, a rusty yellow in colour and bent 

 into a hook. There is not a vestige of legs; 

 the whole equipment consists of the mouth 

 and the opposite end, an active auxiliary. 

 What can this little roll of rancid butter be 

 capable of doing? To observe it at work is 

 easy enough at the propitious moment. 



In the middle of August, when the larva, 

 having achieved its full growth, is busy 

 strengthening and plastering its abode in view 

 of the approaching nymphosis, I half-open a 

 few cells. The hulls opened, but still adher- 

 ing to the natal blossom, are arranged in a 

 row in a glass tube which will enable me to 

 watch the work without disturbing the 

 worker. I have not long to wait for the 

 result. 



In a state of repose, the grub is a hook 

 with the extremities very near together. 

 From time to time I see it bring the two 

 ends into intimate contact and close the cir- 

 cuit. Then — do not let us be shocked by the 

 grub's procedure: this would mean mis- 

 conceiving life's sacred simplicities — then 



39 



