Now the Lampyris is clothed, that is to say, he wears an epidermis of some consistency; moreover, he is rather richly coloured: his body is dark brown all over, set off with pale pink on the thorax, especially on the lower surface.

Finally, each segment is decked at the hinder edge with two spots of a fairly bright red.

A costume like this was never worn by a worm.
Let us leave this ill-chosen denomination and ask ourselves what the Lampyris feeds upon.

That master of the art of gastronomy, Brillat-Savarin, said: "Show me what you eat and I will tell you what you are." A similar question should be addressed, by way of a preliminary, to every insect whose habits we propose to study, for, from the least to the greatest in the zoological progression, the stomach sways the world; the data supplied by food are the chief of all the documents of life.

Well, in spite of his innocent appearance, the Lampyris is an eater of flesh, a hunter of game; and he follows his calling with rare villainy.