The Sisyphus: the Instinct of Paternity 



that they were sought for. After all, the 

 pill has to be matured, to receive consist- 

 ency. And, under these conditions, bumps, 

 blows, falls and jolts are all part of the 

 programme. This mad steeplechasing goes 

 on for hours. 



At last the mother, regarding the work as 

 completed, goes off a little way in search of 

 a favourable site. The father mounts 

 guard, squatting on the treasure. If his 

 companion's absence be prolonged, he re- 

 lieves his boredom by spinning the ball 

 nimbly between his uplifted hind-legs. He 

 juggles after a fashion with the precious 

 pellet; he tests its perfection with the curved 

 branches of his compasses. To see him 

 frisking in that jubilant attitude, who can 

 doubt his lively satisfaction as a pater- 

 familias assured of the future of his children. 



" It's I," he seems to say, " it's I who 

 kneaded this round, soft loaf; it's I who 

 made this bread for my sons!" 



And he lifts on high, for all to see, this 

 magnificent testimonial to his industry. 



Meanwhile, the mother has selected the 

 site. A shallow pit is made, a mere begin- 

 ning of the projected burrow. The ball is 

 rolled near it. The father, that vigilant 

 guardian, does not let go, while the mother 



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