mplacently described how the quilt moves forward
from the tail to the head by wriggling along inclined planes, making
so many dips in the undulating back. There is no need to return to
this stercoral mechanism after the master has done with it.

We now know the reasons that procured the Lily-beetle an ignominious
title, confined to the official records: the grub makes itself an
overcoat of its excrements.

Once the garment is completed so as to cover the whole of the
creature's dorsal surface, the clothing-factory does not cease work on
that score. At the back a fresh hem is added from moment to moment;
but the overlapping superfluity in front drops off of its own weight
at the same time. The coat of dung is under continual repair, being
renovated and lengthened at one end as it wears and grows shorter at
the other.

Sometimes also the stuff is too thick and the heap capsizes. The
denuded grub recks nothing of the lost overcoat; its obliging
intestine repairs the disaster without delay.

Whether by reason of the clipping that results from the excessive
length of a piece which is always on the loom, or of accidents that
cause a part or the whole of the load to fall off, the grub of the
Crioceris leaves accumulations of dirt in its track, till the lily,
the symbol of purity, becomes a very cess-pool. When the leaves have
been browsed, the stem next loses its cuticle, thanks to the nibbling
of the grub, and is reduced to a ragged distaff. The flowers even,
which have opened by now, are not spared: their beautiful ivory
chalices are changed into latrines.

The perpetrator of the misdeed embarks on his career of defilement
early. I wanted to see him start, to watch him lay the first course of
his excremental masonry. Does he serve an apprenticeship? Does he work
badly at first, then a little better and then well? I now know all
about it: there is no noviciate, there are no clumsy attempts; the
workmanship is perfect from the outset, the product ejected spreads
over the hinder part. Let me tell you what I saw.

The eggs are laid in May, on the under surface of the leaves, in short
trails averaging from three to six. They are cylindrical, rounded at
both ends, of a bright orange-red, glossy and varnished with a
glutinous wash which makes them stick to the leaves throughout their
length. The hatching takes ten days. The shell of the egg, now a
little wrinkled, but still of a bright orange colour, retains its
position, s