As usual, this is a grub bent into a hook and carrying on its back a large pouch or hump, the emblem of a ready evacuator. Like the Sacred Beetle’s, indeed, it excels at stopping up any accidental holes in its shells with an instantaneous spray of stercoral cement, of which it always keeps a supply in its knapsack. It practises moreover an art of vermicelli-making which is unknown to the pill-rollers, except the Broad-necked Scarab, who however but seldom makes use of it. The larvæ of the various Dung-beetles employ their digestive residues for plastering their cell, whose dimensions lend themselves to this method of riddance, without the necessity of opening temporary windows through which to expel the ordure. Whether because of insufficient space or for other reasons which escape me, the Sisyphus-larva, after allowing for the regulation coating of the interior, ejects the excess of its products outside. Let us keep a close eye on a pear whose inmate is already growing fairly big. Sooner or later we shall see that the surface at one point is getting thinner and softer; and then, through the frail screen, there is a spurt of dark-green fluid, which subsides with corkscrew evolutions. One more wart has been formed. It will turn black as it dries. What has happened? The larva has made a temporary breach in the wall of its shell; and through the ventilator, which is still covered with a thin veil, it has excreted the superfluous cement which it was unable to use indoors. It has evacuated through the wall. The window deliberately opened in no way affects the safety of the grub, as it is at once closed and hermetically sealed with the base of the spout, which is compressed by a stroke of the trowel. With a stopper so quickly placed in position the food will keep fresh however many holes are made in the body of the pear. There is no danger of the dry air entering. The Sisyphus also seems to be aware of the peril which later, in torrid weather, would threaten her tiny pear, buried at so slight a depth. She is a very early arrival. She works in April and May, when the atmosphere is mild. In the first fortnight of July, before the terrible dog-days have arrived, her family burst their shells and go in search of the heap that will furnish them with board and lodging during the scorching time of the year. Then comes the brief spell of autumn revelry, followed by the withdrawal underground for the winter sleep, the awakening in spring, and lastly, to complete the cycle, the pill-rolling festival.