To continue as I have begun and give a homogeneous picture of the thousand tiny particulars gathered day by day would have its advantages: the story would be sooner told; but, at the same time, deprived of its details, which vary greatly between one observation and the next and are difficult to group, it would be less interesting. Nothing must be neglected in the relation of manners so strange and as yet so little known. At the risk of repeating one’s self here and there, it is preferable to adhere to chronological order and to tell the story by fragments, as one’s observations reveal fresh facts. Order will emerge from this disorder; for each of the more remarkable evenings supplies some feature that corroborates and completes those which go before. I will therefore continue my narration in the form of a diary. 25 April, 1904.—Hullo! What is this, which I have not yet seen? My eyes, ever on the watch, look upon the affair for the first time. Two Scorpions face each other, with claws outstretched and fingers clasped. It is a question of a friendly grasp of the hand and not the prelude of a battle, for the two partners behave to each other in the most peaceful way. There is one of either sex. One is paunchy and browner than the other: that is the female; the other is comparatively slim and pale: that is the male. With their tails prettily curled, the couple stroll with measured steps along the pane. The male is ahead and walks backwards, without jolt or jerk, without any resistance to overcome. The female follows obediently, clasped by her finger-tips and face to face with her leader. The stroll has halts that alter nothing in the manner of the tie; it is resumed, now here, now there, from end to end of the enclosure. Nothing shows the object which the strollers have in view. They loiter, they dawdle, they most certainly exchange ogling glances. Even so, in my village, on Sundays, after vespers, do the youth of both sexes saunter along the hedges, every Jack with his Jill. Often they tack about. It is always the male who decides which fresh direction the pair shall take. Without releasing her hands, he turns gracefully to the left or right about and places himself side by side with his companion. Then, for a moment, with his tail laid flat, he strokes her spine. The other stands motionless, impassive. For over an hour, without tiring, I watch these interminable comings and goings. A part of the household lends me its eyes in the presence of the strange sight which no one in the world has yet seen, at least with a vision capable of observing. In spite of the lateness of the hour, so upsetting to our habits, our attention is concentrated and no essential thing escapes us.