The Life of Jean Henri Fabre 



make me believe that you come here and roast in 

 the sun just to watch Flies. I shall keep an eye 

 on you, mark you! And, the first time I . . . ! 

 However, that'll do for the present." 1 



We must recall these adventures and tribu- 

 lations of his early days, and others of a 

 like kind which we have already recorded, 

 before we can understand the ease and the 

 delight experienced by Fabre when he was 

 able to take refuge within the walls of his 

 hermitage. There, at least, no one would 

 upset his plans, or distract him from his re- 

 searches and observations. He could station 

 himself where he pleased; he had room to 

 turn round. He had leisure to await the op- 

 portunity and seize upon it when it occurred. 

 He had nothing to think of now but himself 

 and his insects, and the latter always ended 

 by yielding to him and complying with all 

 his wishes. They surrendered themselves to 

 him as he to them. The days were over 

 when he had to divide himself, as it were; 

 when they kept him on the rack, maliciously 

 waiting to make overtures or intimate dis- 

 closures to him just as he had to leave them, 

 just as the class-bell rang or his holiday was 

 over. Now there was nothing like that. He 



1 Souvenirs, I., pp. 134-136. The Hunting Wasps, chap, 

 viii., " The Languedocian Sphex." 



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