The Life of the Fly 



school more deeply in love than ever with in- 

 sects and flowers. And yet I had to give it all 

 up. That wider education, which would 

 have to be my source of livelihood in the 

 future, demanded this imperiously. What 

 was I to take in hand to raise me above the 

 primary school, whose staff could barely earn 

 their bread in those days? Natural history 

 could not bring me anywhere. The educa- 

 tional system of the time kept it at a dis- 

 tance, as unworthy of association with Latin 

 and Greek. Mathematics remained, with its 

 very simple equipment: a blackboard, a bit 

 of chalk and a few books. 



So I flung myself with might and main into 

 conic sections and the calculus: a hard battle, 

 if ever there was one, without guides or coun- 

 sellors, face to face for days on end with the 

 abstruse problem which my stubborn thinking 

 at last stripped of its mysteries. Next came 

 the physical sciences, studied in the same man- 

 ner, with an impossible laboratory, the work 

 of my own hands. 



The reader can imagine the fate of my fa- 

 vourite branch of science in this fierce struggle. 

 At the faintest sign of revolt, I lectured myself 

 severely, lest I should let myself be seduced by 

 some new grass, some unknown Beetle. I did 



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