The Hermit of Serignan 



his work-room becomes, by such chance 

 means, an entomological museum, in which 

 Flies, Scorpions, Caterpillars, Spiders, and 

 I know not what else live side by side and 

 in succession. 



And when their turn is over, when the 

 first comers have to make room for new ar- 

 rivals, the master parts from his children 

 with regret, dismissing them with the most 

 kindly speeches, embellished by the most salu- 

 tary advice. Here, for example, is the little 

 speech which he makes to the Sphex: 



You pretty Sphex-wasps hatched before my eyes, 

 brought up by my hand, ration by ration, on a bed 

 of sand in an old quill-box; you whose transforma- 

 tions I have followed step by step, starting up from 

 my sleep in alarm lest I should have missed the 

 moment when the nymph is bursting its swaddling- 

 bands or the wing leaving its case; you who have 

 taught me so much and learned nothing your- 

 selves: O my pretty Sphex-wasps, fly away without 

 fear of my tubes, my boxes, my bottles, or any 

 of my receptacles, through this warm sunlight be- 

 loved of the Cicadae; go, but beware of the Pray- 

 ing Mantis, who is plotting your ruin on the flow- 

 ering heads of the thistles, and mind the Lizard, 

 who is lying in wait for you on the sunny slopes; 

 go in peace, dig your burrows, stab your Crickets 

 scientifically and continue your kind, to procure 



239 



