For what reasons are the Scarabs’ fore-legs bereft of that one finger, the five-jointed tarsus, which in itself represents the insect’s hand? Why a stump, a docked limb, instead of a fingered extremity, as is the rule every otherwise? One reply suggests itself which at first seems rather plausible. Those zealous pill-rollers push their load backwards, with their head down and their hinder-part in the air; they support themselves on the tips of their fore-legs. The whole effort of the transportation is brought to bear on the extremities of these two levers, which are in constant contact with the rough ground. A delicate finger, liable to be sprained under such conditions, would be a hindrance, wherefore the pill-maker decided to do without it. How and when was the mutilation effected? Does it occur nowadays, as a workshop accident, during the actual work? No, for you never see a Scarab furnished with tarsi to his fore-legs, however new he may be at his trade; no, for the nymph, lying perfectly at rest in its shell, has fingerless fore-arms like the adult. The mutilation dates farther back. Suppose we admit that, in the dim and distant ages, a Scarab, owing to some mishap, lost those two inconvenient and almost superfluous fingers. Finding himself all the better for it, he transmitted the fortunate defect to his race by way of an ancestral legacy. Since then, the Scarabs form an exception to the rule that fore-legs have digits like the rest. This would be an attractive explanation, but there are serious difficulties in the way. We ask ourselves by what curious freak the organism can have elaborated in days long past portions destined to disappear afterwards as too cumbrous. Can the plan of the animal frame be devoid of logic, of foresight? Does it design the structure blindly, at the hazard of conflicting circumstances? Away with such foolishness! No, the Scarab did not at one time have the tarsi which he lacks to-day; no, he did not lose them as the result of being harnessed upside down when rolling his pill. He is now what he always was. Who says so? Unimpeachable witnesses: the Gymnopleurus and the Sisyphus, [83] themselves enthusiastic pill-rollers. Like the Scarab, they push them backwards, head down; like the Scarab, they support themselves, during their arduous task, on the tips of their fore-legs; and those legs, notwithstanding their contact with the rough ground, are as perfectly fingered as the others: they possess the delicate tarsi which the Scarab is denied. Then why should the latter prove an exception to what in the others is the rule? How gladly would I welcome a word from the discerning person who could answer my humble question!