doth he make account when the noise of the trumpet soundeth."--Job,
xxxix, 23 (Douai version).--_Translator's Note_.]

For the harsh work of its two gouges, or curved chisels, the larva of
the Capricorn concentrates its muscular strength in the front of its
body, which swells into a pestle-head. The Buprestis-grubs, those
other industrious carpenters, adopt a similar form; they even
exaggerate their pestle. The part that toils and carves hard wood
requires a robust structure; the rest of the body, which has but to
follow after, continues slim. The essential thing is that the
implement of the jaws should possess a solid support and a powerful
motor. The Cerambyx-larva strengthens its chisels with a stout, black,
horny armour that surrounds the mouth; yet, apart from its skull and
its equipment of tools, the grub has a skin as fine as satin and as
white as ivory. This dead white comes from a copious layer of grease
which the animal's spare diet would not lead us to suspect. True, it
has nothing to do, at every hour of the day and night, but gnaw. The
quantity of wood that passes into its stomach makes up for the dearth
of nourishing elements.

The legs, consisting of three pieces, the first globular, the last
sharp-pointed, are mere rudiments, vestiges. They are hardly a
millimetre[3] long. For this reason, they are of no use whatever for
walking; they do not even bear upon the supporting surface, being kept
off it by the obesity of the chest. The organs of locomotion are
something altogether different. The Cetonia-grub[4] has shown us how,
with the aid of the hairs and the pad-like excrescences upon its
spine, it manages to reverse the universally-accepted usage and to
wriggle along on its back. The grub of the Capricorn is even more
ingenious: it moves at the same time on its back and belly; instead of
the useless legs of the thorax, it has a walking-apparatus almost
resembling feet, which appear, contrary to every rule, on the dorsal
surface.

[Footnote 3: .039 inch.--_Translator's Note_.]

[Footnote 4: For the grub of the Cetonia, or Rose-chafer, cf. _The
Life and Love of the Insect_, by J. Henri Fabre, translated by
Alexander Teixeira de Mattos: chap. xi.--_Translator's Note_.]

The first seven segments of the abdomen have, both above and below, a
four-sided facet, bristling with rough protuberances. This the grub
can either expand or contract, making it stick out or lie flat at
will. The upper facets consist