Thus stretched, the
leg appeared fully two inches long, and with the rest of its legs it
clasped to its bosom the unfortunate little fly, shrunken with distress,
the very embodiment of hopeless dismay. No sight which comes to memory's
call equals for utter despair that of the little insect, which no doubt
in its day had provoked a big lump of irritation and strong but
ineffective language. Hugged by its great enemy, it seemed aware of its
fate, yet unreconciled to it. Pendant by the one long, slender leg, as
if hung by a thread, the blond monster seemed quite at ease over its
repast. That was its customary pose and attitude at meal-times. As far
as observation permitted, it was pumping out the blood of its prey, but
before the operation was finished it forbade closer scrutiny by humming
away with a note of savage resentment--a rumble, a grumble and a growl,
ending in a swelling shriek.
It would be interesting to know how many flies of the common vexing kind
such a ferocious creature disposes of during the day. He preys upon the
lustrous bluish-green fly, which draws blood almost on the moment of
alighting, and also on the sluggish "march" fly, which goes about the
business of blood-sucking in a lazy, dreamy, lackadaisical style; and I
am inclined to acknowledge him as a friend and as a blessing to humanity
generally.
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