The Bruchus emerges, freshly clad, in
its final form.
The weather is delightful. Flowers are abundant, awakened by the summer
showers; and the weevils visit them in the lovely autumn weather. Then,
when the cold sets in, they take up their winter quarters in any
suitable retreat. Others, still numerous, are less hasty in quitting
the native seed. They remain within during the whole winter, sheltered
behind the trap-door, which they take care not to touch. The door of the
cell will not open on its hinges, or, to be exact, will not yield along
the line of least resistance, until the warm days return. Then the late
arrivals will leave their shelter and rejoin the more impatient, and
both will be ready for work when the pea-vines are in flower.
To take a general view of the instincts in their inexhaustible variety
is, for the observer, the great attraction of the entomological world,
for nowhere do we gain a clearer sight of the wonderful way in which the
processes of life are ordered. Thus regarded, entomology is not, I know,
to the taste of everybody; the simple creature absorbed in the doings
and habits of insects is held in low esteem.
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