The Life of the Fly 



For a fortnight, the feeble grub remains in 

 the condition which I have described, without 

 growing and very probably also- without 

 nourishment. Assiduous though my visits be, 

 I never perceive it taking any refreshment. 

 Besides, what would it eat? In the cocoon in- 

 vaded there is nothing but the larva of the 

 Mason-bee; and the worm cannot make use 

 of this before acquiring the sucker that comes 

 with the second form. Nevertheless, this life 

 of abstinence is not a life of idleness. The 

 animalcule explores its dish, now here, now 

 elsewhere; it runs all over it with Looper 

 strides; it pries into the neighbourhood by lift- 

 ing and shaking its head. 



I see a need for this long wait under a 



transitory form that requires no feeding. The 



egg is laid by the mother on the surface of the 



nest, somewhere near a suitable cell, I dare 



say, but still at a distance from the fostering 



larva, which is protected by a thick rampart. 



It is for the new-born grub to make its own 



way to the provisions, not by violence and 



house-breaking, of which it is incapable, but 



by patiently slipping through a maze of cracks, 



first tried, then abandoned, then tried again. 



It is a very difficult task, even for this most 



slender worm, for the Bee's masonry is ex- 



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