The Life of the Grasshopper 



this. Because of the spiked armour, I im- 

 agined that the leg would strip in scales 

 which came loose of themselves or yielded 

 to rubbing, like dead cuticle. How greatly 

 did the reality exceed my expectations ! 



From the spurs and spikes of the infinitely 

 thin matrix there emerge spurs and spikes 

 that make the leg capable of cutting soft 

 wood. This is done without violence or the 

 least inconvenience; and the discarded gar- 

 ment remains where it is, hanging by the 

 claws to the top of the cage, uncreased and 

 untorn. The magnifying-glass shows not a 

 trace of rough usage. As the thing was 

 before the excoriation, so it remains after- 

 wards. The legging of dead skin continues, 

 down to the pettiest details, an exact replica 

 of the live leg. 



If any one suggested that we should ex- 

 tract a saw from some sort of goldbeater's- 

 skin sheath which had been exactly moulded 

 on the steel and that we should perform the 

 operation without producing the least tear, 

 we should burst out laughing: the thing 

 is so flagrantly impossible. Life makes light 

 of these impossibilities; it has methods of 

 realizing the absurd, in case of need. And 

 the Locust's leg tells us so. 



