n the ground which are
pierced, spoiled, good for nothing. And man curses the author of this
destruction; to hear him you would think the forest is meant for him
alone, and that the oaks bear acorns only for the sake of his pig.

My friend, I would say to him, the forest guard cannot take legal
proceedings against the offender, and it is just as well, for our
egoism, which is inclined to see in the acorn only a garland of
sausages, would have annoying results. The oak calls the whole world to
enjoy its fruits. We take the larger part because we are the stronger.
That is our only right.

More important than our rights is the equitable division of the fruits
of the earth between the various consumers, great and little, all of
whom play their part in this world. If it is good that the blackbird
should flute and rejoice in the burgeoning of the spring, then it is no
bad thing that acorns should be worm-eaten. In the acorn the dessert of
the blackbird is prepared; the Balaninus, the tasty mouthful that puts
flesh upon his flanks and music into his throat.

Let the blackbird sing, and let us return to the eggs of the
Curculionidae. We know where the egg is--at the base of the acorn,
because the tenderest and most juicy tissues of the fruit are there. But
how did it get there, so far from the point of entry? A very trifling
question, it is true; puerile even, if you will. Do not let us disdain
to ask it; science is made of these puerilities.

The first man to rub a piece of amber on his sleeve and to find that it
thereupon attracted fragments of chaff had certainly no vision of the
electric marvels of our days. He was amusing himself in a childlike
manner. Repeated, tested, and probed in every imaginable way, the
child's experiment has become one of the forces of the world.

The observer must neglect nothing; for he never knows what may develop
out of the humblest fact. So again we will ask: by what process did the
egg of the elephant-beetle reach a point so far from the orifice in the
acorn?

To one who was not already aware of the position of the egg, but knew
that the grub attacked the base of the acorn first, the solution of that
fact would be as follows: the egg is laid at the entrance of the tunnel,
at the surface, and the grub, crawling down the gallery sunk by the
mother, gains of its own accord this distant point where its infant diet
is to be found.

Before I had sufficient data this was my own belief; but th