More Beetles 



After the torpor of hibernation in some 

 place of shelter, she reappears with the first 

 days of spring. But there is no fruit now; 

 and last year's glutton, who, for that mat- 

 ter, has become a frugal eater, whether by 

 necessity or by temperament, has no other 

 resource than the niggardly drinking-bar of 

 the flowers. When June has come, she sows 

 her eggs in a heap of vegetable mould, be- 

 side the chrysalids whence the adult insect 

 will emerge a little later. This being so, 

 unless we are in the secret, we behold the 

 mad spectacle of the egg preceding the 

 mother that lays it. 



Among the Cetoniae that make their ap- 

 pearance in the course of the same year we 

 must therefore distinguish two generations. 

 Those of the spring, the inhabitants of the 

 roses, have lived through the winter. They 

 must lay their eggs in June and then die. 

 Those of the autumn, passionate fruit-lovers, 

 have recently left their nymphal dwellings. 

 They will hibernate and will lay their eggs 

 about the middle of the following summer. 



We have come to the longest days of the 



year; this is the moment. In the shadow of 



the pines, against the wall of the enclosure, 



stands a heap some cubic yards in volume, 



14 



