The Pea-Weevil: The Eggs 



keel. Others, more numerous these, explore 

 the blossoms and take possession of them. 

 The laying-time has not yet come. It is a 

 mild morning; the sun is hot without being 

 oppressive. This is the moment for nuptial 

 exploits and for raptures amid the splendour 

 of the light. Life therefore is enjoyed for 

 a little while. Couples form, soon part and 

 soon come together again. When the heat 

 grows too great, towards the middle of the 

 day, each Jack and Jill retire into the shade, 

 in a fold of the flower whose secret recesses 

 they know so well. To-morrow they will 

 resume the festival and the next day too, 

 until the pod, splitting the sheath of its keel, 

 appears outside, more and more swollen 

 from day to day. 



A few pregnant mothers, harder-pressed 

 than the rest, confide their eggs to the grow- 

 ing pod, as it issues flat and tiny from its 

 floral scabbard. These eggs laid pre- 

 maturely, pushed out perhaps through the 

 exigencies of an ovary which can wait no 

 longer, seem to me in serious danger. The 

 seed in which the grub is to make its home 

 is as yet but a feeble granule, without sub- 

 stance and without floury contents. No 

 235 



