The Life of the Caterpillar 



increase and become so intense, especially du- 

 ring the night, that, to get a little sleep, I am 

 driven to employ a palliative, vaseline with 

 borax and a lint dressing. 



In five days' time, it has developed into a 

 hideous ulcer, which looks more painful than 

 it really is. The red, swollen flesh, quivering 

 and denuded of its epidermis, provokes com- 

 miseration. The person who night and morn- 

 ing renews my dressing of lint and vaseline is 

 almost sick at the sight. 



"One would think," she says, "that the 

 dogs had been gnawing your arm. I do hope 

 you won't try any more of those horrible de- 

 coctions." 



I allow my sympathetic nurse to talk away 

 and am already meditating further experi- 

 ments, some of which will be equally painful. 



sacred truth, what can rival thy power over 

 us mortals ! Thou turnest my petty torment 

 into contentment; thou makest me rejoice in 

 my flayed arm! What shall I gain by it all? 



1 shall know why a wretched caterpillar sets 

 us scratching ourselves. Nothing more; and 

 that is enough for me. 



Three weeks later, new skin is forming, but 

 is covered all over with painful little pimples. 

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