14 THE LIFE AND LOVE OF THE INSECT 



Let us suppose the Scarab fortunate enough to have 

 found a loyal partner ; or, better still, let us suppose that 

 he has met no self-invited colleague. The burrow is 

 ready. It is a cavity dug in soft earth, usually in 

 sand, shallow, the size of one's fist and communicating 

 with the outside by a short channel just large enough for 

 the passage of the ball. As soon as the provisions are 

 safely housed, the Scarab shuts himself in by stopping 

 up the entrance to his dwelling with rubbish reserved 

 for the purpose in a corner. Once the door is closed, no 

 sign outside betrays the banqueting-hall. And, now, 

 welcome mirth and jollity ! All is for the best in the 

 best of all possible worlds ! The table is sumptuously 

 laid ; the ceiling tempers the heat of the sun and allows 

 but a mild, moist heat to penetrate ; the calm, the 

 darkness, the concert of the crickets overhead all favour 

 the digestive functions. So great has been my illusion 

 that I have caught myself listening at the door, expecting 

 to hear the revellers burst into that famous snatch from 

 the opera of Galatee : ^ 



Ah 1 qu'il est doux de ne rien faire 

 Quand tout s'agite autour de nous.^ 



Who would dare disturb the bliss of such a banquet ? 

 But the wish to learn is capable of all things ; and I had 

 the courage. I will set down here the result of my viola- 

 tions of the sanctity of domestic life : the ball by itself 

 fills almost the whole of the room ; the rich repast 

 rises from floor to ceiling. A narrow passage runs be- 

 tween it and the walls. Here sit the banqueters, two at 



* A liglit opera, with music by Victor Masse and libretto by Jules 

 Barbier and Michel Carre (1852). — Translator's Note. 



* "Ah, how sweet is far niente, 



When round us throbs the busy world !" 



