THE GLOW-WORM 



ment and sensibility. He is affected by the touch of a 

 needle ; he shifts his place, crawls, puts out his tentacles, 

 as though nothing unusual had occurred. The general 

 torpor, a sort of deep drunkenness, has vanished out- 

 right. The dead returns to life. 



Human science did not invent the art of making a 

 person insensible to pain, which is one of the triumphs 

 of surgery. Far back in the centuries the Glow-worm, 

 and apparently others too, was practising it. The 

 surgeon makes us breathe the fumes of ether or chloro- 

 form: the insect darts forth from his fangs very tiny 

 doses of a special poison. 



When we consider the harmless and peaceful nature 

 of the Snail it seems curious that the Glow-worm should 

 require this remarkable talent. But I think I know the 

 reason. 



When the Snail is on the ground, creeping, or even 

 shrunk into his shell, the attack never presents any 

 difficulty. The shell possesses no lid and leaves the 

 hermit's fore-part to a great extent exposed. But it 

 very often happens that he is in a raised position, cling- 

 ing to the tip of a grass-stalk, or perhaps to the smooth 

 surface of a stone. This support to which he fastens 

 himself serves very well as a protection ; it acts as a lid, 

 supposing that the shell fits closely on the stone or stalk. 

 But if the least bit of the Snail be left uncovered the 



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