on its belly; he lays it on its side. Nothing is of any
use; it obstinately turns over and resumes its dorsal progress. That is
its manner of travelling over a flat surface; it has no other.

This reversal of the usual mode of walking is so peculiar to the
Cetonia-larva that it is enough in itself to reveal the grub's identity
to the least expert eyes. Dig into the vegetable mould formed by the
decayed wood in the hollow trunks of old willow-trees, search at the
foot of rotten stumps or in heaps of compost; and, if you come upon a
plumpish grub moving along on its back, there is no room for doubt: your
discovery is a Cetonia-larva.

This topsy-turvy progress is fairly swift and is not less in speed to
that of an equally fat grub travelling on its legs. It would even be
greater on a polished surface, where walking on foot is hampered by
incessant slips, whereas the numerous hairs of the dorsal pads find
the necessary support by multiplying the points of contact. On polished
wood, on a sheet of paper and even on a strip of glass, I see my grubs
moving from point to point with the same ease as on a surface of garden
mould. In the space of one minute, on the wood of my table, they cover a
distance of eight inches. The pace is no swifter on a horizontal bed of
sifted mould. A strip of glass reduces the distance covered by one
half. The slippery surface only half paralyses this strange method of
locomotion.

We will now place side by side with the Cetonia-grub the larva of the
Morning Anoxia, the prey of the Interrupted Scolia. It is very like the
larva of the Common Cockchafer. It is a fat, pot-bellied grub, with a
thick, red cap on its head and armed with strong, black mandibles, which
are powerful implements for digging and cutting through roots. The legs
are sturdy and end in a hooked nail. The creature has a long, heavy,
brown paunch. When placed on the table, it lies on its side; it
struggles without being able to advance or even to remain on its belly
or back. In its usual posture it is curled up into a narrow hook. I have
never seen it straighten itself completely; the bulky abdomen prevents
it. When placed on a surface of moist sand, the ventripotent creature is
no better able to shift its position: curved into a fish-hook, it lies
on its side.

To dig into the earth and bury itself, it uses the fore-edge of its
head, a sort of weeding-hoe with the two mandibles for points. The
legs take part in this work, but f