The Cicada: the Eggs 



At last, on the 27th of October, despairing 

 of success, I gathered the asphodels in the 

 enclosure and, taking the armful of dry 

 stalks on which the Cicada had laid, carried 

 it up to my study. Before abandoning all 

 hope, I proposed once more to examine the 

 cells and their contents. It was a cold morn- 

 ing. The first fire of the season had been 

 lit. I put my little bundle on a chair in front 

 the hearth, without any intention of try- 

 ing the effect of the hot flames upon the 

 nests. The sticks which I meant to split 

 open one by one were within easier reach 

 of my hand there. That was the only con- 

 sideration which made me choose that par- 

 ticular spot. 



Well, while I was passing my magnifying- 

 glass over a split stem, the hatching which I 

 no longer hoped to see suddenly took place 

 beside me. My bundle became alive; the 

 young larvae emerged from their cells by the 

 dozen. Their number was so great that my 

 professional instincts were amply satisfied. 

 The eggs were exactly ripe; and the blaze on 

 the hearth, bright and penetrating, produced 

 the same effect as sunlight out of doors. I 

 lost no time in profiting by this unexpected 

 stroke of luck. 



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