The Nut-Weevil 



nut, fallen of its own ripeness, is lying on the 

 ground. 



Without delay, as soon as free, it explores 

 the soil within a restricted radius, seeks a 

 point easy to dig, finds it, does a little spade- 

 work with its jaws, wriggles its rump and 

 buries itself. At no very great depth a 

 spherical cavity is made by pressing back the 

 dusty soil. Here the grub will spend the 

 winter and await the resurrection of the 

 spring. 



Were I so presumptous as to advise the 

 Balaninus, better-versed than any one in its 

 business as a Weevil, I should say: 



"To leave your nut now is an act of folly. 

 Later, when the April festival is here and 

 the hazels replace their drooping catkins by 

 the pink pistils of their nascent fruit, well 

 and good; but to-day, in this time of blazing 

 sunshine, which drives the most gallant work- 

 ers to idleness, what is the use of deserting 

 a home in which you can sleep so comfortably 

 throughout the slack summer season? 

 Where will you find a better lodging than 

 the shell of a hazel-nut when the autumn 

 rains come and the winter frosts? In what 

 more peaceful solitude could the delicate 

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