The Life of the Fly 



through the eye-sockets or the beak, suggests a 

 similar experiment with the whole bird. It 

 is a matter of wrapping the body in a sort of 

 artificial skin which will be as discouraging to 

 the Fly as the natural skin. Linnets, some 

 with deep wounds, others almost intact, are 

 placed one by one in paper envelopes similar 

 to those in which the nursery-gardener keeps 

 his seeds, envelopes just folded, without being 

 stuck. The paper is quite ordinary and of 

 average thickness. Torn pieces of newspaper 

 serve the purpose. 



These sheaths with the corpses inside them 

 are freely exposed to the air, on the table in 

 my study, where they are visited, according to 

 the time of day, in dense shade and in bright 

 sunlight. Attracted by the effluvia from the 

 dead meat, the Bluebottles haunt my labora- 

 tory, the windows of which are always open. 

 I see them daily alighting on the envelopes 

 and very busily exploring them, apprised of 

 the contents by the gamy smell. Their inces- 

 sant coming and going is a sign of intense cu- 

 pidity; and yet none of them decides to lay on 

 the bags. They do not even attempt to slide 

 their ovipositor through the slits of the folds. 

 The favourable season passes and not an egg 

 is laid on the tempting wrappers. All the 

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