The Life of the Fly 



and closing, with a little clack like a valve, 

 almost makes one forget the horrors of the 

 charnel-yard. It suggests a carpet of tiny 

 Sea-anemones. The maggot has its beauties 

 after all. 



It is obvious, if there be any logic in things, 

 that a grub so well-protected against asphyxi- 

 ation by drowning must frequent liquid sur- 

 roundings. One does not encircle one's hind- 

 quarters with a coronet for the sole satisfac- 

 tion of displaying it. With its apparatus of 

 spokes, the Grey Fly's grub informs us of the 

 dangerous nature of its functions: when work- 

 ing upon a corpse, it runs the risk of drowning. 

 How is that? Remember the grubs of the 

 Greenbottle, fed on hard-boiled white of egg. 

 The dish suits them; only, by the action of 

 their pepsin, it becomes so fluid that they die 

 submerged. Because of their hinder stigmata, 

 which are actually on the skin and devoid of 

 any defensive machinery, they perish when 

 they find no support apart from the liquid. 



The Flesh-fly's maggots, though incom- 

 parable liquefiers, know nothing of this peril, 

 even in a puddle of carrion broth. Their 

 bulky hind-part serves as a float and keeps 

 the air-holes above the surface. When, for 

 further investigation, they must needs go 



