ed much like the marsh weed called Horses tail.... The hinder part
is terminated with three tails, in every particular resembling the two
longer horns that grow out of the head. The legs are scal'd and hair'd.
This animal probably feeds upon the paper and covers of books, and
perforates in them several small round holes, finding perhaps a
convenient nourishment in those husks of hemp and flax, which have
passed through so many scourings, washings, dressings, and dryings as
the parts of old paper necessarily have suffer'd. And, indeed, when I
consider what a heap of sawdust or chips this little creature (which is
one of the teeth of Time) conveys into its intrals, I cannot chuse but
remember and admire the excellent contrivance of Nature in placing in
animals such a fire, as is continually nourished and supply'd by the
materials convey'd into the stomach and fomented by the bellows of the
lungs." The picture or "image," which accompanies this description, is
wonderful to behold. Certainly R. Hooke, Fellow of the Royal Society,
drew somewhat upon his imagination here, having apparently evolved both
engraving and description from his inner consciousness.[1]

[1] Not so! Several correspondents have drawn my attention to the
fact that Hooke is evidently describing the "Lepisma," which, if not
positively injurious, is often found in the warm places of old houses,
especially if a little damp. He mistook this for the Bookworm.

Entomologists even do not appear to have paid much attention to the
natural history of the "Worm." Kirby, speaking of it, says, "the
larvae of Crambus pinguinalis spins a robe which it covers with its own
excrement, and does no little injury." Again, "I have often observed the
caterpillar of a little moth that takes its station in damp old books,
and there commits great ravages, and many a black-letter rarity, which
in these days of bibliomania would have been valued at its weight in
gold, has been snatched by these devastators," etc., etc.

As already quoted, Doraston's description is very vague. To him he is
in one verse "a sort of busy worm," and in another "a puny rankling
reptile." Hannett, in his work on book-binding, gives "Aglossa
pinguinalis" as the real name, and Mrs. Gatty, in her Parables,
christens it "Hypothenemus cruditus."

The, Rev. F. T. Havergal, who many years ago had much trouble with
bookworms in the Cathedral Library of Hereford, says they are a kind of
death-watch, with a "