The Poplar-Weevil 
elasticity of life. This is obvious to our 
eyes; it is obvious likewise to the Weevil’s. 
How is she to obtain the degree of lifeless 
flexibility required in the circumstances? 
We might say: 
“The leaf must be plucked, allowed to 
fall to the earth and manipulated on the 
ground when sufficiently faded.” 
The Weevil knows more than we do about 
these things and does not share our opinion. 
What she says to herself is: 
“On the ground, amid the intricate 
obstructions of the grass, my task would be 
impracticable. I want elbow-room; I want 
the thing to hang in the air, free from any 
obstacle. And there is a more important 
condition: my larva would refuse a rank, 
withered sausage; it insists on food that 
retains a certain freshness. The cylinder 
which I intend for its consumption must be 
not a dead leaf but an enfeebled leaf, not 
entirely deprived of the juices with which 
the tree supplies it. JI must wean my leaf 
and not kill it outright, so that, when dead, 
it will remain in its place during the few days 
of the grub’s extreme youth.” 
The mother therefore, having made her 
143; 
