The Cionus 
the Weevil series. The mother entrusts her 
eggs to the swelling capsules of the scollop- 
leaved mullein. So far, everything is ac- 
cording to rule. Other Weevils, as a matter 
of fact, prefer, when setting their children up 
in life, the pods of some other mullein, or 
those of the figwort or of the snapdragon, 
two plants belonging to one and the same 
botanical family. But now we are suddenly 
confronted with the strange and exceptional. 
The mother Cionus choses the mullein with 
the smallest capsules, whereas in the neigh- 
bourhood and at the same season there are 
others loaded with fruit whose dimensions 
would provide spacious lodgings and abun- 
dance of food. She prefers dearth to plenty 
and narrow to spacious quarters. 
Worse still. Indifferent to leaving pro- 
vision for her brood, she nibbles the tender 
seeds, destroys them, extirpates them, in 
order to obtain a cavity in the heart of the 
tiny globule. Into this she slips more or less 
half a dozen eggs. With the edible sub- 
stance left, were the whole cell to be con- 
sumed, there would not be enough to feed a 
single grub. 
‘When the bread-pan is empty, the house is 
331 
