The Life of the Weevil 



fairly long, powerful and depressed towards 

 the thorax. 



For a long while this Weevil, with her 

 decoration of black spots, has occupied my 

 mind. I should like to know her larva, 

 which, as everything seems to prove, must 

 live in the capsules of the scollop-leaved mul- 

 lein. The insect belongs to the series that 

 nibble at seeds contained in a shell; it ought 

 to share their botanical habits. But vainly, 

 whatever the season, do I open the capsules 

 of the exploited plant: never do I find the 

 Cionus there, nor its larva, nor its nymph. 

 This little mystery increases my curiosity. 

 Perhaps the dwarf has interesting things to 

 tell us. I propose to wrest her secret from 

 her. 



It so happens that a few scollop-leaved 

 mulleins are spreading their rosettes amid 

 the pebbles of my enclosure. They are not 

 populated, but I can easily colonize them 

 with specimens from the country round about, 

 obtained by a few battues over the umbrella. 

 No sooner said than done. From May on- 

 wards I have before my door, without fear 

 of disturbance by passing Sheep, the means 

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