THE ELEPHANT-BEETLE 25r 



places. Next day, at daybreak, the whole family is there. 

 The father beats the upper branches with a pole ; the 

 mother, wearing a heavy hempen apron which enables 

 her to force her way through the stubborn undergrowth, 

 gathers those within reach of the hand, while the children 

 collect those scattered upon the ground. First the small 

 baskets are filled, then the big corbeilles, and then the 

 sacks. 



After the field-mouse, the jay, the weevil, and so many 

 others have taken toll comes man, calculating how many 

 pounds of bacon-fat his harvest will be worth. One 

 regret mingles with the cheer of the occasion ; it is to 

 see so many acorns scattered on the ground which are 

 pierced, spoiled, good for nothing. And man curses the 

 author of this destruction ; to hear him you would think 

 the forest is meant for him alone, and that the oaks bear 

 acorns only for the sake of his pig. 



My friend, I would say to him, the forest guard cannot 

 take legal proceedings against the offender, and it is just 

 as well, for our egoism, which is inclined to see in the 

 acorn only a garland of sausages, would have annoying 

 results. The oak calls the whole world to enjoy its fruits. 

 We take the larger part because we are the stronger. 

 That is our only right. 



More important than our rights is the equitable division 

 of the fruits of the earth between the various consumers, 

 great and little, all of whom play their part in this world. 

 If it is good that the blackbird should flute and rejoice in 

 the burgeoning of the spring, then it is no bad thing that 

 acorns should be worm-eaten. In the acorn the dessert 

 of the blackbird is prepared ; the Balaninus, the tasty 

 mouthful that puts flesh upon his flanks and music into 

 his throat. 



