THE GLOW-WORM 271 



hook, very sharp and as thin as a hair. The microscope 

 reveals the presence of a slender groove running through- 

 out the length. And that is all. 



The insect repeatedly taps the Snail's mantle with its 

 instrument. It all happens with such gentleness as to 

 suggest kisses rather than bites. As children, teasing 

 one another, we used to talk of " tweaksies " to express 

 a slight squeeze of the finger-tips, something more like 

 a tickling than a serious pinch. Let us use that word. 

 In conversing with animals, language loses nothing by 

 remaining juvenile. It is the right way for the simple 

 to understand one another. 



The Lampyris doles out his tweaks. He distributes 

 them methodically, without hurrying, and takes a brief 

 rest after each of them, as though he wished to ascer- 

 tain the effect produced. Their number is not great: 

 half a dozen, at most, to subdue the prey and deprive it 

 of all power of movement. That other pinches are ad- 

 ministered later, at the time of eating, seems very likely, 

 but I cannot say anything for certain, because the sequel 

 escapes me. The first few, however — there are never 

 many — are enough to impart inertia and loss of all 

 feeling to the Mollusc, thanks to the prompt, I might al- 

 most say lightning, methods of the Lampyris, who, be- 

 yond a doubt, instils some poison or other by means of 

 his grooved hooks. 



Here is the proof of the sudden efficacy of those 

 twitches, so mild in appearance: I take the Snail from 

 the Lampyris, who has operated on the edge of the man- 

 tle some four or five times. I prick him with a fine 



