The Life of the Grasshopper 



return and then for the last time swells its 

 occipital hernia as far as it will go and bursts 

 the sheath that has protected it so far. The 

 creature throws off its miner's overall. 



Here at last is the Decticus in his youthful 

 shape, quite pale still, but darker the next 

 day and a regular blackamoor compared with 

 the adult. As a prelude to the ivory face of 

 a riper age, he sports a narrow white stripe 

 under his hinder thighs. 



Little Decticus, hatched before my eyes, 

 life opens for you very harshly! Many of 

 your kindred must die of exhaustion before 

 attaining their freedom. In my tubes I see 

 numbers who, stopped by a grain of sand, 

 succumb half-way and become furred with a 

 sort of silky mildew. The mouldy part soon 

 absorbs their poor little remains. When per- 

 formed without my assistance, the coming to 

 the light of day must be attended with even 

 greater dangers. The usual soil is coarse 

 and baked by the sun. Without a fall of 

 rain, how do they manage, these immured 

 ones? 



More fortunate in my tubes with their 

 sifted and wetted mould, here you are out- 

 side, you little white-striped nigger; you 

 bite at the lettuce-leaf which I have given 

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