AN INVADER 291 



sack of haricots must bring it to Europe. The invasion 

 is inevitable. 



According to documents now before me, indeed, it has 

 already taken place. Three or four years ago I received 

 from Maillane, in the Bouches-du-Rhone, what I sought 

 in vain in my own neighbourhood, although I questioned 

 many a farmer and housewife, and astonished them by 

 my questions. No one had ever seen the pest of the 

 haricot ; no one had ever heard of it. Friends who 

 knew of my inquiries sent me from Maillane, as I have 

 said, information that gave great satisfaction to my 

 naturalist's curiosity. It was accompanied by a measure 

 of haricots which were utterly and outrageously spoiled ; 

 every bean was riddled with holes, changed into a kind 

 of sponge. Within them swarmed innumerable weevils, 

 which recalled, by their diminutive size, the lentil-weevil, 

 Bruchus lenti. 



The senders told me of the loss experienced at 

 Maillane. The odious little creature, they said, had 

 destroyed the greater portion of the harvest. A veritable 

 plague, such as had never before been known, had 

 fallen upon the haricots, leaving the housewife barely a 

 handful to put in the saucepan. Of the habits of the 

 creature and its way of going to work nothing was 

 known. It was for me to discover them by means of 

 experiment. 



Quick, then, let us experiment ! The circumstances 

 favour me. We are in the middle of June, and in my 

 garden there is a bed of early haricots; the black Belgian 

 haricots, sown for use in the kitchen. Since I must 

 sacrifice the toothsome vegetable, let us loose the terrible 

 destroyer on the mass of verdure. The development of 



