of the same stone.  The Gardener lives an almost solitary life; it is rarely that one finds two or three beneath the same object of shelter.  The gathering in my menagerie was thus exceptional, although it did not lead to confusion.  There is plenty of room in the glass cage for excursions to a distance and for all their habitual manoeuvres.  Those who wish for solitude can obtain it; those who wish for company need not seek it.

For the rest, captivity cannot lie heavily on them; that is proved by their frequent feasts, their constant mating.  They could not thrive better in the open; perhaps not so well, for food is less abundant under natural conditions.  In the matter of well-being the prisoners are in a normal condition, favourable to the maintenance of their usual habits.

It is true that encounters of beetle with beetle are more frequent here than in the open.  Hence, no doubt, arise more opportunities for the females to persecute the males whom they no longer require; to fall upon them from the rear and eviscerate them.  This pursuit of their onetime lovers is aggravated by their confined quarters; but it certainly is not caused thereby, for such customs are not suddenly originated.

The mating season over, the female encountering a male in the open must evidently regard him as fair game, and devour him as the termination of the matrimonial rites.  I have turned over many stones, but have never chanced upon this spectacle, but what has occurred in my menagerie is sufficient to convince me.  What a world these beetles live in, where the matron devours her mate so soon as her fertility delivers her from the need of him!  And how lightly the males must be regarded by custom, to be served in this manner!

Is this practice of post-matrimonial cannibalism a general custom in the insect world?  For the moment, I can recollect only three characteristic examples:  those of the Praying Mantis, the Golden Gardener, and the scorpion of Languedoc.  An analogous yet less brutal practice—­for the victim is defunct before he is eaten—­is a characteristic of the Locust family.  The female of the white-faced Decticus will eagerly devour the body of her dead mate, as will the Green Grasshopper.

To a certain extent this custom is excused by the nature of the insect’s diet; the Decticus and the Grasshopper are essentially carnivorous.  Encountering a dead body of their own species, a female will devour it, even if it be the body of her latest mate.

But what are we to say in palliation of the vegetarians?  At the approach of the breeding season, before the eggs are laid, the Ephippigera turns upon her still living mate, disembowels him, and eats as much of him as her appetite will allow.

The cheerful Cricket shows herself in a new light at this season; she attacks the mate who lately wooed her with such impassioned serenades; she tears his wings, breaks his musical thighs, and even swallows a few mouthfuls of the instrumentalist.  It is probable that this deadly aversion of the female for the male at the end of the mating season is fairly common, especially among the carnivorous insects.  But what is the object of this atrocious custom?  That is a question I shall not fail to answer when circumstances permit.