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with it on a summer evening's walk. If you have, and have 

 not been too much startled to watch the motions of the insect 

 afterwards, you might wonder whether the beetle or you were 

 the most frightened ; you would observe it in all probability lying 

 on its back on the ground, and as still as the dead insect it was 

 imitating. Not a sign of life about it except the numerous 

 parasites which might be seen crawling over it in every direction, 

 and from which it derives the rather vulgar name of the " Lousy 

 Clocker." The Dor beetle in laying its eggs and providing for its 

 young, digs a hole eight or twelve_^inches in depth beneath cow 

 dung, carrying part of this to the bottom of the hole, and laying its 

 eggs in it. So that when the larva are hatched, they are like those 

 of the Burying Beetle, at once in the midst of food. Now from the 

 fact of the beetle working so much among such a plastic material, 

 we might expect to find it more or less defiled and contaminated 

 with it ; but such is not the case, they all seem perfectly new, 

 (if we might use such a phrase), except for the presence of the 

 parasite. We have often asked ourselves where this parasite 

 got its living from, as it seemed almost impossible to extract 

 it from such a fully armoured insect as the Dor Beetle. 

 However, since Dr. Taylor's lecture, in which he told us 

 that the scientific world was only beginning to understand the 

 nature of parasites, and that in the first instance they were 

 only there to clear away what otherwise would be a nuisance, 

 it has struck me that, in the case of this beetle, the presence of 

 the parasite and the absence of dirt, may be cause and effect. 

 We need hardly say that the beetle on first emerging from the pupa 

 has no parasites. An idea of the strength of this beetle may be 

 gained by trying to hold one in the closed hand; do not squeeze it, 

 but give it free use of its limbs, and it will, if so inclined, force its 

 way out from between the fingers. The tenacity of life in the Dor 

 Beetle is something extraordinary. For three days, in a daily walk 

 last spring, we passed one of them in a small water tank apparently 

 drowned; on the fourth day we were surprised to see it making efforts 

 to swim. We took it out and placed it in a cyanide bottle, which 

 generally means death in a minute or two, and let it remain some 



