in-the-bowl is a rope-dancer, a consummate acrobat, performing
its evolutions amid the slender sprigs without fear of a fall.

Its attitude in repose is curious. The heavy stern rests on the two
hind-legs and especially on the crooked finger, the end of the
intestine. The fore-part is lifted in a graceful curve, the little
black head is raised and the creature looks rather like the crouching
Sphinx of antiquity. This pose is common at times of slumber and
blissful digestion in the sun.

An easy prey is this naked, plump, defenceless grub, snoozing in the
heat of a blazing day. Various Gnats, of humble size, but very likely
terribly treacherous, haunt the foliage of the asparagus. The larva of
the Crioceris, motionless in its sphinx-like attitude, does not appear
to be on its guard against them, even when they come buzzing above its
rump. Can they be as harmless as their peaceful frolics seem to
proclaim? It is extremely doubtful: the Fly rabble are not there
merely to imbibe the scanty exudations of the plant. Experts in
mischief, they have no doubt hastened hither with another object.

And, in truth, on the greater number of the Crioceris-larvae we find,
adhering firmly to the skin, certain white specks, very small and of a
china-white. Can these be the sowing of a bandit, the spawn of a
Midge?

I collect the grubs marked with these white specks and rear them in
captivity. A month later, about the middle of June, they shrivel,
wrinkle and turn brown. All that is left of them is a dry skin which
tears from end to end, half uncovering a Fly-pupa. A few days later,
the parasite emerges.

It is a small, greyish Fly, fiercely bristling with sparse hairs, half
the size of the House-fly, whom it resembles slightly. It belongs to
the Tachina group, who, in their larval form, so often inhabit the
bodies of caterpillars.

The white spots sprinkled over the larva of the Crioceris were the
eggs of the hateful Fly. The vermin born of those eggs have perforated
the victim's paunch. By subtle wounds, which cause little pain and are
almost immediately healed, they have penetrated the body, reaching the
humours in which the entrails are bathed. At first the larva invaded
is not aware of its danger; it continues to perform its rope-dancer's
gymnastics, to fill its belly and to take its siestas in the sun, as
though nothing serious had occurred.

Reared in a glass tube and often examined under the lens, my
parasite-ridden larvae