The Bluebottle: The Laying 



family: the contents of the test-tube furnish 

 me with a duly authenticated certificate. 



I admire the leap and, to obtain one better 

 still, I replace the tube by another, so that the 

 apparatus now stands forty-six inches high. 

 The column is erected at a spot frequented by 

 Flies, in a dim light. Its mouth, closed with 

 a wire-gauze cover, reaches the level of vari- 

 ous other appliances, test-tubes and jars, which 

 are already stocked or awaiting their colony 

 of vermin. When the position Is well-known 

 to the Flies, I remove the other tubes and 

 leave the column, lest the visitors should turn 

 aside to easier ground. 



From time to time, the Bluebottle and the 

 Flesh-fly perch on the trellis-work, make a 

 short investigation and then decamp. Through- 

 out the summer season, for three whole 

 months, the apparatus remains where it is, 

 without the least result: never a worm. What 

 is the reason? Does the stench of the meat 

 not spread, coming from that depth? Cert- 

 ainly it spreads: it Is unmistakable to my 

 dulled nostrils and still more so to the nostrils 

 of my children, whom I call to bear witness. 

 Then why does the Flesh-fly, who but now was 

 dropping her grubs from a goodly height, re- 

 fuse to let them fall from the top of a column 



^33 



