The Life of the Fly 



'Well, no,' said Fate, 'you shall not ac- 

 quire the freedman's peculium; you shall re- 

 main a slave, dragging your chain behind you; 

 your peal of bells rings false!' 



Hardly was the factory in full swing when 

 a piece of news was bruited, at first a vague 

 rumour, an echo of probabilities rather than 

 certainties, and then a positive statement leav- 

 ing no room for doubt. Chemistry had ob- 

 tained the madder-dye by artificial means; 

 thanks to a laboratory-concoction, it was ut- 

 terly overthrowing the agriculture and in- 

 dustries of my district. This result, while de- 

 stroying my work and my hopes, did not sur- 

 prise me unduly. I myself had toyed with the 

 problem of artificial alizarin and I knew 

 enough about it to foresee that, in no very 

 distant future, the work of the chemist's re- 

 tort would take the place of the work of the 

 fields. 



It was finished; my hopes were dashed to 

 the ground. What to do next? Let us change 

 our lever and begin to roll Sisyphus' stone 

 once more. Let us try to draw from the ink- 

 pot what the madder-vat declines to yield. 

 Laboremus! 



470 



