Behold me then, as I leave this offal-store, the shepherd of a chance-met flock. They are not much to look at. Covered with dust, black as pitch, flat, like the true Bugs that they are, standing awkwardly high on their legs, lanky and skinny: no, they do not inspire confidence. The head is so small that there is only just room for the eyes, reticulated domes whose great prominence seems to indicate good powers of vision by night. It is set on an absurd neck which looks as though it had been strangled with a bow-string. The corselet is jet-black, with burnished prominences. Let us turn it over. The beak is monstrous. Its base covers all of the face that is not occupied by the eyes. It is not the usual rostrum, the drill of the sap-sucking Hemiptera; it is a rude implement, an elbowed tool, crooked like a bent forefinger. What can the creature do with this barbarous weapon? When it is feeding I see a black thread, as fine as a hair, issuing from the beak. This is the slender scalpel: the rest is the sheath and the stout handle. This rude equipment tells us that the Reduvius is an executioner. What sort of exploits can we expect from it? Stabbing and murdering: actions of little interest, because of their frequency. But we must make a considerable allowance for the unexpected; interesting details sometimes lie dormant and spring up suddenly amid squalid surroundings. Perhaps the Reduvius has in store for us facts worthy of record. Let us try to rear him. His weapon, a stout yataghan, tells us that the Reduvius is a murderer. What victim does he require? This is the rearing problem before us. It so happens that some time ago I saw the dingy-looking Bug at grips with the smallest of our Cetoniæ, so well-named the Pall-bearing Cetonia, [58] because of her white spots on a black background. This accidental observation sets me on the right track. I house my flock in a large glass jar with a bed of sand, and as food I serve up the Cetonia aforesaid, which is common in spring on the flowers in the enclosure, but scarce at this time of year. The victim is very readily accepted. Next day I find her dead. One of the Reduvii, with his probe implanted in the joint of the neck, is working at the corpse and draining it dry. In the absence of Cetoniæ I fall back upon any sort of game suited to the size of my boarders; and I find that any sort answers my purpose, irrespective of the different entomological orders. The usual dish, because it is the easiest for me to capture, consists of Locusts of medium size, though they are sometimes larger than the consumer. Often, too, for the same reason that he is easily obtained, it includes a Forest Bug, Pentatoma nigricorna. In short, my charges’ diet does not give me much trouble: anything will do, provided that the prey does not exceed the powers of the assailant.