The Life of the Fly 



leech-like kisses? Let us call the creature to 

 mind: a little oily sausage, which stretches 

 and curls up just where it lies, without being 

 able to shift its position. Its body is a smooth 

 cylinder; its mouth simply a circular lip. Not 

 one ambulatory organ does it possess; not even 

 hairs, protuberances or wrinkles to enable it to 

 crawl. The animal is made for digestion and 

 immobility. Its organization is incompatible 

 with movement; everything tells us so in the 

 clearest fashion. No, this grub is even less able 

 than the mother to make its way unaided into 

 the Mason's dwelling. And yet the pro- 

 visions are there; those provisions must be 

 reached: it is a matter of life or death; to be 

 or not to be. Then how does the Fly set 

 about it? It would be vain for me to quest- 

 ion probabilities, too often illusory; to obtain 

 a reply of any value, I have but one resource; 

 I must attempt the nearly impossible and 

 watch the Anthrax from the egg onwards. 



Although Anthrax-flies are fairly common, 

 in the sense of there being several different 

 species, they are not plentiful when it is a case 

 of wanting a colony populous enough to admit 

 of continuous observation. I see them, now 

 here, now there, in the fiercely sun-scorched 

 places, flitting hither and thither on the old 

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