[1] From the Latin balanus, an acorn.—Translator’s Note. [↑]
[2] The Life of the Grasshopper: chap. xiv.—Translator’s Note. [↑]
[3] The Mason-bee. Cf. The Mason-bees: passim.—Translator’s Note. [↑]
Chapter vi
THE NUT-WEEVIL
If a peaceful home, a good stomach and a secure livelihood are enough to bring happiness, then the Nut-weevil is truly a happy creature, more so even than the famous Rat who retired into a Dutch cheese. The hermit of the fabulist[1] had kept up certain relations with the world, the source of all his troubles. One day, a deputation from the Rat folk came to ask him for a trifling alms. The recluse listened to their complaints with an unwilling ear; he told them that he could not help them, promised to pray for them and shut the door without further ado.
Hard though he was upon the needs of others, this visit of famished beggars must have disturbed his digestion somewhat: history does not tell us so, but we are at liberty to believe it. The hermit of the naturalist is not subject to these annoyances. Its dwelling is an inviolable cell, a coffer made all in one piece, with neither door nor wicket for distressed bores to come knocking at. Within is absolute quiet, nothing enters of the sounds or cares of the outer world. An excellent lodging, [[95]]neither too hot nor too cold, peaceful and closed to all. An excellent table, besides, and a sumptuous. What more could any one ask for? The smug inmate waxes big and fat.
We all know the rascal. Which of us, when a boy, cracking a hazel-nut with his strong teeth, has not bitten into something acrid and sticky? Ugh! It’s the nut-maggot! Let us conquer our repugnance and examine the creature closely. It is worth the trouble.