The Life of the Weevil 



but, should the gardener leave the artichoke 

 a few late heads, these are accepted by the 

 Larinus as eagerly as the cardoon's. Under 

 different names, the two plants are merely 

 horticultural varieties; and the Weevil, a 

 thorough expert, makes no mistake about it. 



Under the scorching July sun, a cardoon- 

 head exploited by the Larini is a sight worth 

 seeing. Drunk with heat, busily staggering 

 amid the thicket of blue florets, they dive 

 with their tails in the air, sinking and even 

 disappearing into the depths of the shaggy 

 forest. 



What do they do down there? It is not 

 possible to observe them directly; but a local 

 inspection after the work is finished will tell 

 us. Between the tufts of hairs, not far from 

 the base, they clear with the rostrum a place 

 to receive their egg. If they are able to 

 reach a seed, they rid it of its feathers and 

 cut a shallow cup in it, an egg-cup as it were. 

 The probe is pushed no farther. The fleshy 

 dome, the tasty heart which one would at 

 first suppose to be the favourite morsel, is 

 never attacked by the pregnant mothers. 



As might have been expected, so rich an 

 establishment implies a numerous population. 

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