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Updated: April 30, 2025
Here the insect, an impartial and well-informed witness, answers: "No; in our country antiquity was not acquainted with the haricot. The precious vegetable came hither by the same road as the broad bean. It is a foreigner, and of comparatively recent introduction into Europe." The reply of the insect merits serious examination, supported as it is by extremely plausible arguments.
Here she had got up an extempore dining-table, by placing a pasting board across two chairs. Seating herself upon a stool, she jerked off the lid of the kettle, and, to her horror and dismay, found not the favourite haricot, but a piece of cheese-rind, a crust of dry bread, and a cold potatoe.
Arranged in convenient rows, the two crops will be ready, one in August and one in September or later. With the red haricot I repeat the experiment already essayed with the black haricot. On several occasions, in suitable weather, I release large numbers of weevils from my glass jars, the general headquarters of the tribe. On each occasion the result is plainly negative.
TUESDAY. Haricot rissoles and tomato sauce; baked potatoes; milk pudding and stewed fruit, or apple and tapioca pudding. WEDNESDAY. Lentil soup; jam roll. THURSDAY. Lentil soup; fig pudding. FRIDAY. Hot pot; roasted pine kernels; steamed potatoes and cauliflowers; railway pudding. SATURDAY. Irish stew; boiled rice and stewed prunes.
But the weevil more especially attacks the haricot when warehoused. Like the Calander-beetle, which nibbles the wheat in our granaries but despises the cereal while still on the stalk, it abhors the bean while tender, and prefers to establish itself in the peace and darkness of the storehouse. It is a formidable enemy to the merchant rather than to the peasant.
The kitchen is very clean, and the prisoners do not provide the personnel. Here is the menu for Friday, January 5, 1917, the day of our visit: Breakfast: Porridge; milk; chocolate; butter; bread. Lunch: Haricot soup; ragoût of beef and potatoes. The prisoners' menu is extended on Thursdays and Sundays by an extra dish and cake of some sort.
Bill of fare: broiled soles, half of a roast pig, a haricot of mutton, stewed oysters, a tart, pears, figs, with sherry and port wine, both good, and the port particularly so. I ate some pig, and could hardly resist the lady's importunities to eat more; though to my fancy it tasted of swill, had a flavor of the pigsty.
Lord Egremont must be ill, or have thoughts of going into some other place; perhaps into Lord Granville's, who they say is dying: when he dies, the ablest head in England dies too, take it for all in all. I shall be in town, barring accidents, this day sevennight, by dinnertime; when I have ordered a haricot, to which you will be very welcome, about four o'clock.
For a few days I see the grubs wandering about, exploring the pods and the glass with equal zeal. Finally one and all perish without touching the food provided. The conclusion to be drawn from these facts is obvious: the young and tender haricot is not the proper diet.
The other leguminous plants, whether native or of Oriental origin, have been familiar to it for centuries; it has tested their virtues year by year, and, confiding in the lessons of the past, it bases its forethought for the future upon ancient custom. The haricot is avoided as a newcomer, whose merits it has not yet learned.
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