The Haricot-Weevil 
lanne, in the Bouches-du-Rhéne, what I was 
vainly seeking in my _ neighbourhood, 
although I cross-examined both farmers and 
housewives, astonishing them greatly by my 
questions. No one had ever seen the pest 
of the haricots; no one had ever heard of it. 
Friends who knew of my enquiries sent me 
from Maillanne, as I have said, the where- 
withal to satisfy fully my curiosity as a na- 
turalist. It consisted of a bushel of hari- 
cots outrageously spoilt, riddled with holes, 
changed into a sort of sponge and swarming 
inside with innumerable Bruchi, which re- 
called the Lentil-weevil by their diminutive 
size. 
The senders told me of the damage 
suffered at Maillanne. The odious insect, 
they said, had destroyed the best part of the 
crop. A veritable plague, the like of which 
had never been known before, had fallen 
upon the haricots, leaving the housekeeper 
hardly any with which to garnish her stew. 
Of the culprit’s habits, of its way of going to 
work nothing was known. It was for me to 
find out this by experiment. - 
Quick, then, let us experiment! Cir- 
cumstances favour me. We are in the 
279 
