THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION 227 



neighbours who, jealous of their solitude, soon settle the 

 doom of any visitor and eat him afterwards, a radical 

 means of putting a stop to further indiscretions ; it is 

 rather a question of nuptial rites tragically performed by 

 the matron after pairing. 



Spring returns once more. I have prepared the large 

 glass cage in advance and peopled it with five-and-twenty 

 inhabitants, each with his bit of earthenware. From 

 mid-April onwards, every evening, towards night-fall, 

 between seven and nine o'clock, great animation reigns 

 within this crystal palace. That which seemed deserted 

 by day now becomes a joyous scene. As soon as supper 

 is finished, the whole household runs out to look at it. 

 A lantern hung outside the panes allows us to follow 

 events. 



It is our diversion after the worries of the day ; it is 

 our play-house. In this theatre of simple folk, the per- 

 formances are so interesting that, the moment the lantern 

 is lighted, we all, old and young, come and take our seats 

 in the pit : all, including even Tom, the house-dog. Tom, 

 it is true, indifferent to Scorpion affairs, like the genuine 

 philosopher that he is, lies down at our feet and dozes, 

 but only with one eye, keeping the other always open on 

 his friends, the children. 



Let me try to give the reader an idea of what happens. 

 A numerous assembly soon gathers near the glass panes in 

 the zone discreetly lit by the lantern. Every elsewhere, 

 here, there, single Scorpions walk about and, attracted 

 by the light, leave the shade and hasten to the illumin- 

 ated festival. The very moths betray no greater readi- 

 ness to flutter to the rays of our lamps. The newcomers 

 mingle with the crowd, while others, tired with their 

 diversions, withdraw into the shade, snatch a few 



