The Life of the Caterpillar 



has no falls to fear, no matter what his 

 position. 



I had a proof of this before my eyes du- 

 ring a whole week. As I have already said, 

 the track, instead of keeping on one level, 

 bends twice, dips at a certain point under the 

 ledge of the vase and reappears at the top a 

 little farther on. At one part of the cir- 

 cuit, therefore, the procession walks on the 

 lower surface of the rim; and this inverted 

 position implies so little discomfort or dan- 

 ger that it is renewed at each turn for all 

 the caterpillars from first to last. 



It is out of the question then to suggest 

 the dread of a false step on the edge of the 

 rim which is so nimbly turned at each point of 

 inflexion. The caterpillars in distress, starved, 

 shelterless, chilled with cold at night, cling 

 obstinately to the silk ribbon covered hun- 

 dreds of times, because they lack the rudi- 

 mentary glimmers of reason which would 

 advice them to abandon it. 



Experience and reflection are not in their 

 province. The ordeal of a five hundred yards' 

 march and three to four hundred turns teach 

 them nothing; and it takes casual circum- 

 stances to bring them back to the nest. They 



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