The Haricot-Weevil 
I question my peasant neighbours on this 
point. ‘They are men who keep a sharp look 
out where their crops are concerned. To 
touch their property is a heinous crime, 
quickly discovered. Besides, there is the 
housewife, who would not fail to find the 
malefactor as she shells the haricots intended 
for the pot, conscientiously fingering them 
one by one before dropping them into a 
plate. 
Well, one and all reply to my question 
with a smile in which I read their disbelief 
in my knowledge of the smaller creatures: 
“Sir,” they say, “learn that there are never 
any worms in the haricot. It is a blessed 
bean and respected by the Weevil. The 
pea, the broad bean, the lentil, the ever- 
lasting pea, the chick-pea, all have their 
vermin; this one, Jou gounflo-gus, never. 
What should we poor people do if the 
Courcoussoun tried to rob us of it?” 
The Curculio in fact despises it, displaying 
a very strange contempt when we consider 
the fervour with which the other legumina 
are attacked. All, down to the meagre 
lentil, are eagerly despoiled; and the haricot, 
so tempting both in size and in flavour, 
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