The Life of the Weevil 
efforts, like those of sailors hauling on a 
cable. 
“Yo-heave-ho!’’ says the grub; and the 
sausage rises a peg higher. 
While the extracting pad is swelling and 
straining every muscle, it is evident that the 
part still in the shell is draining itself of its 
humours as far as it possibly can, making 
them flow into the part released. It is 
this that makes the wire-drawing action 
feasible. 
One more effort of leverage from the in- 
flated girdle; one more yawn: 
““Heave-ho!” 
That has done the trick. The grub glides 
over the shell and drops. 
One of the nuts which have just afforded 
me this sight was gathered on its branch a 
few hours before. The grub, then, would 
have fallen to the ground from the height 
of the hazel-bush. Allowing for the pro- 
portions, such a fall would for us mean a ter- 
rible crash; for the grub, so plastic and 
supple, it is a trifle. It matters little to the 
larva whether it tumbles into the world from 
the top of the bush or whether it quietly 
changes its lodgings a little later, when the 
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