CHAPTER XLV 



THE STAG-BEETLE 



ONE of the joys of your time of life, I am sure," 

 resumed Uncle Paul, as he and his hearers 

 seated themselves in the shade of an old oak tree 

 amid the humming and whirring of insect life all 

 about them, "is the study of the little creatures of 

 field and farm and forest, so interesting in their 

 mode of life, so varied in their forms and colors. 

 You chase -the splendid butterfly from flower to 

 flower, you take up the cockchafer and put it on a bed 

 of fresh leaves, with a straw you drive the cricket 

 from its hole. The insect that amuses you can also 

 instruct you. In our modest studies let us now have 

 a little talk on this subject. 



"What is this tiny creature with the stout coat- 

 of-mail of chestnut color? Its large head, showing 

 parallel folds that might have been carved by a 

 sculptor's hand, is armed with two branching nip- 

 pers which open like a pair of tongs and then close, 

 mangling between their teeth the finger they have 

 seized. "Woe to the giddy-pate that lets himself be 

 caught by them ! The trap closes tighter and tighter 

 and never lets go. 



"But, vigorous as are its mandibles, the insect 

 is not one to be afraid of, provided only you look 



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