The Sacred Beetle and Others 



tails which cannot be avoided in a history 

 of the Dung-beetle; he will show some in- 

 dulgence for what has gone before and what 

 will follow. The revolting workshop of the 

 insect that manipulates ordure will lead per- 

 haps to loftier ideas than would the per- 

 fumer's factory with its jasmine and 

 patchouli. 



I have accused the Sacred Beetle of being 

 an insatiable gormandizer. It is time to 

 prove what I said. In my cages, which are 

 too small to allow of much pill-rolling, my 

 boarders often scorn to accumulate provi- 

 sions and confine themselves to eating where 

 they are. It is a good opportunity for us: 

 the meal taken in public will tell us better 

 than the underground banquet what a Dung- 

 beetle's stomach can do. 



One very still, sultry day — the at- 

 mospheric conditions most favourable to the 

 gastronomic joys of my anchorites — I 

 observe one of the diners in the open air, 

 from eight o'clock in the morning until eight 

 o'clock at night. Watch in hand, I time the 

 glutton. He appears to have come across 

 a morsel greatly to his taste, for, during 

 those twelve hours, he never stops feasting, 

 but remains glued to the table, absolutely 

 stationary. At eight o'clock in the evening, 



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