“More than that; the garden is a hundred meters long and the same in width. Well, the family of that one plant-louse would cover a surface ten times larger; that is to say, ten hectares. What do you say to that? Is it not necessary that the young birds, little lady-bugs, and the dragon-fly with the golden eyes should work hard in the extermination of the louse, which if unhindered would in a few years overrun the world? “In spite of the hungry ones which devour them, the plant-lice seriously alarm mankind. Winged plant-lice have been seen flying in clouds thick enough to obscure the daylight. Their black legions went from one canton to another, alighted on the fruit trees, and ravaged them. Ah! when God wishes to try us, the elements are not always unchained. He sends against us in our pride the paltriest of creatures. The invisible mower, the feeble plant-louse, comes, and man is filled with fear; for the good things of the earth are in great peril. “Man, so powerful, can do nothing against these little creatures, invincible in their multitude.” Uncle Paul finished the story of the ants and their cows. Several times since, Emile, Jules, and Claire have talked of the prodigious families of the plant-louse and the cod, but rather lost themselves in the millions and thousand millions. Their uncle was right: his stories interested them much more than Mother Ambroisine’s tales. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VIII THE OLD PEAR-TREE UNCLE PAUL had just cut down a pear-tree in the garden. The tree was old, its trunk ravaged by worms, and for several years it had not borne any fruit. It was to be replaced by another. The children found their Uncle Paul seated on the trunk of the pear-tree. He was looking attentively at something. “One, two, three, four, five,” said he, tapping with his finger upon the cross-section of the felled tree. What was he counting? “Come quick,” he called, “come; the pear-tree is waiting to tell you its story. It seems to have some curious things to tell you.” The children burst out laughing. “And what does the old pear-tree wish to tell us?” asked Jules. “Look here, at the cut which I was careful to make very clean with the ax. Don’t you see some rings in the wood, rings which begin around the marrow and keep getting larger and larger until they reach the bark?” “I see them,” Jules replied; “they are rings fitted one inside another.” “It looks a little like the circles that come just after throwing a stone into the water,” remarked Claire. “I see them too by looking closely,” chimed in Emile.