The Life of the Weevil 



machine for grabbing, with a stomach for 

 digesting. The intellect does not count as 

 yet. That will come later. 



The Weevil, in his fashion, repeats these 

 aberrations to a certain extent. See' the 

 extravagant appendage to his little head. 

 It is here a short, thick snout; there a sturdy 

 beak, round or cut four-square; elsewhere 

 a foolish reed, thin as a hair, long as the 

 body and longer. At the tip of this 

 egregious instrument, in the terminal mouth, 

 are the fine shears of the mandibles; on 

 either side, the antennae, with their first joints 

 fitting into a groove. 



What is the use of this beak, this snout, 

 this caricature of a nose? Where did the 

 insect find the model for it? Nowhere. 

 The Weevil invented it and retains the 

 monopoly. Outside his family, no Beetle 

 indulges in these nasal eccentricities. 



Observe also the smallness of the head, a 

 bulb that hardly swells beyond the base of the 

 snout. What can it have inside? A very 

 poor nervous equipment, the sign of exceed- 

 ingly limited instincts. Before seeing them 

 at work, we have a poor opinion of the 

 intelligence of these microcephalies; we 



