The Dwarfs 



tion of the adult. The three batches are in- 

 stalled in large tin boxes, carefully closed, 

 in which there is no danger of too rapid 

 desiccation. 



The first batch consists of twelve grubs, 

 which are given an abundance of food, re- 

 newed as the need arises. My prisoners 

 could not be better off in the heap of leaf- 

 mould, their favourite resort. 



Side by side with this gastric paradise, a 

 second tin, a very inferno of starvation, re- 

 ceives a dozen larvae kept absolutely without 

 food. It is furnished — as, for that matter, 

 are the others — with a litter of droppings, 

 enabling the famished creatures to wander 

 about or bury themselves at will. 



Lastly, the third batch, likewise twelve in 

 number, receives from time to time a scanty 

 pinch of rotten leaves, enough at most to be- 

 guile their mandibles for a moment. 



Three or four months go by and, when the 

 torrid heats of July have come, the first tin 

 gives me the perfect insect. Its development 

 has been accomplished without a check: the 

 twelve grubs are succeeded by twelve mag- 

 nificent Cetoniae, resembling at all points 

 those who sip and slumber in the roses when 

 the spring comes. This result convinces me 

 249 



