The insect will have but to file the screen a little with its mandibles, to bump against it with its forehead, in order to bring it down; it will even have nothing to do when the window is free, as often happens.

The unskilled carpenter, burdened with his extravagant head-dress, will emerge from the darkness through this opening when the summer heats arrive.
After the cares of the future come the cares of the present.

The larva, which has just opened the aperture of escape, retreats some distance down its gallery and, in the side of the exit-way, digs itself a transformation-chamber more sumptuously furnished and barricaded than any that I have ever seen.

It is a roomy niche, shaped like a flattened ellipsoid, the length of which reaches eighty to a hundred millimetres.
(3 to 4 inches .-- Translator's Note.) The two axes of the cross-section vary: the horizontal measures twenty-five to thirty millimetres (.975 to 1.17 inch .-- Translator's Note.); the vertical measures only fifteen.
(.585 inch .-- Translator's Note.) This greater dimension of the cell, where the thickness of the perfect insect is concerned, leaves a certain scope for the action of its legs when the time comes for forcing the barricade, which is more than a close-fitting mummy-case would do.
The barricade in question, a door which the larva builds to exclude the dangers from without, is two-and even three-fold.

Outside, it is a stack of woody refuse, of particles of chopped timber; inside, a mineral hatch, a concave cover, all in one piece, of a chalky white.
Pretty often, but not always, there is added to these two layers an inner casing of shavings.