The Life of the Weevil 
fairly long, powerful and depressed towards 
the thorax. 
For a long while this Weevil, with her 
decoration of black spots, has occupied my 
mind. I should like to know her larva, 
which, as everything seems to prove, must 
live in the capsules of the scollop-leaved mul- 
lein. The insect belongs to the series that 
nibble at seeds contained in a shell; it ought 
to share their botanical habits. But vainly, 
whatever the season, do I open the capsules 
of the exploited plant: never do I find the 
Cionus there, nor its larva, nor its nymph. 
This little mystery increases my curiosity. 
Perhaps the dwarf has interesting things to 
tell us. I propose to wrest her secret from 
her. 
It so happens that a few scollop-leaved 
mulleins are spreading their rosettes amid 
the pebbles of my enclosure. They are not 
populated, but I can easily colonize them 
with specimens from the country round about, 
obtained by a few battues over the umbrella. 
No sooner said than done. From May on- 
wards I have before my door, without fear 
of disturbance by passing Sheep, the means 
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