120 
THE POWDER POST BEETLE 
Just as we begin to congratulate ourselves on the 
growing usefulness of our abundant hardwood 
timber, a persistent little pest comes on the scene to 
disturb our complacency. He does not attack the 
forest trees nor the newly-cut logs, but waits till the 
lumber is well seasoned in the yard or made up into 
furniture, carriages, mouldings, and interior fittings. 
Hickory, ask, and oak are his favourites, and, although 
he does not like paint, varnish, or other finishes, he 
is not always dissuaded by them. A little fine powder 
scattered on the ground or the floor is often the only 
warning, but it may indicate that the spoke of a 
carriage or the leg of a chair is so completely bored 
and riddled that it will scarcely sustain more than its 
own weight. Perhaps there is no intimation until 
some part of an apparently solid piece of furniture 
is shattered into dust and splinters with a light blow. 
The little beetle responsible for all this mischief has 
long been a source of vexation and annoyance in 
Britain, but his recent depredations on this continent 
have been sufficient to prompt a vigorous pursuit 
by the Washington authorities. Already he stands 
convicted of occasioning a fatal railway accident by 
