Preface ix 



the actors and supernumeraries, loathsome or 

 magnificent, as the case may be, grotesque or 

 sinister, heroic or appalling, genial or stupid 

 and almost always improbable and unintelligible. 



And here, to begin with, taking the first that 

 comes, is one of those individuals, frequent in 

 the South, where we can see it prowling around 

 the abundant manna which the mule scatters 

 heedlessly along the white roads and the stony 

 paths : I mean the Sacred Scarab of the Egyp- 

 tians, or, more simply, the Dung-beetle, the 

 brother of our northern Geotrupes, a big 

 Coleopteron all clad in black, whose mission 

 in this world is to shape the more savoury parts 

 of the prize into an enormous ball which he 

 must next roll to the subterranean dining-room 

 where the incredible digestive adventure is to 

 take its course. But destiny, jealous of all 

 undiluted bliss, before admitting him to that 

 spot of sheer delight, imposes upon the grave and 

 probably sententious beetle tribulations without 

 number, which are nearly always complicated 

 by the arrival of an untoward parasite. 



Hardly has he begun, by dint of great efforts 

 of his frontal shield and bandy legs, to roll the 



