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match on his own ground。 Besides； there is a very curious sense of
satisfaction in getting a fair chance to sneer at ourselves and scoff
at our own pretensions。 The first person of our dual consciousness
has been smirking and rubbing his hands and felicitating himself on
his innumerable superiorities； until we have grown a little tired of
him。 Then； when the other fellow； the critic； the cynic； the Shimei；
who has been quiet； letting self…love and self…glorification have
their perfect work； opens fire upon the first half of our personality
and overwhelms it with that wonderful vocabulary of abuse of which he
is the unrivalled master； there is no denying that he enjoys it
immensely； and as he is ourself for the moment； or at least the chief
portion of ourself （the other half…self retiring into a dim corner of
semiconsciousness and cowering under the storm of sneers and
contumely；you follow me perfectly； Beloved；the way is as plain as
the path of the babe to the maternal fount）； as； I say； the abusive
fellow is the chief part of us for the time； and he likes to exercise
his slanderous vocabulary； we on the whole enjoy a brief season of
self…depreciation and self…scolding very heartily。
It is quite certain that both of us； the Master and myself； conceived
on the instant a respect for the Scarabee which we had not before
felt。 He had grappled with one difficulty at any rate and mastered
it。 He had settled one thing； at least； so it appeared； in such a
way that it was not to be brought up again。 And now he was
determined； if it cost him the effort of all his remaining days； to
close another discussion and put forever to rest the anxious doubts
about the larva of meloe。
Your thirty…six dissections must have cost you a deal of time and
labor；the Master said。
What have I to do with time； but to fill it up with labor？
answered the Scarabee。…It is my meat and drink to work over my
beetles。 My holidays are when I get a rare specimen。 My rest is to
watch the habits of insects； those that I do not pretend to study。
Here is my muscarium； my home for house…flies； very interesting
creatures； here they breed and buzz and feed and enjoy themselves；
and die in a good old age of a few months。 My favorite insect lives
in this other case； she is at home； but in her private…chamber； you
shall see her。
He tapped on the glass lightly； and a large； gray； hairy spider came
forth from the hollow of a funnel…like web。
And this is all the friend you have to love？ said the Master； with
a tenderness in his voice which made the question very significant。
Nothing else loves me better than she does； that I know of；he
answered。
To think of it！ Not even a dog to lick his hand； or a cat to purr
and rub her fur against him！ Oh； these boarding…houses； these
boarding…houses！ What forlorn people one sees stranded on their
desolate shores！ Decayed gentlewomen with the poor wrecks of what
once made their households beautiful； disposed around them in narrow
chambers as they best may be； coming down day after day； poor souls！
to sit at the board with strangers； their hearts full of sad memories
which have no language but a sigh； no record but the lines of sorrow
on their features； orphans； creatures with growing tendrils and
nothing to cling to； lonely rich men； casting about them what to do
with the wealth they never knew how to enjoy； when they shall no
longer worry over keeping and increasing it； young men and young
women； left to their instincts； unguarded； unwatched； save by
malicious eyes； which are sure to be found and to find occupation in
these miscellaneous collections of human beings； and now and then a
shred of humanity like this little adust specialist； with just the
resources needed to keep the 〃radical moisture〃 from entirely
exhaling from his attenuated organism； and busying himself over a
point of science； or compiling a hymn…book； or editing a grammar or a
dictionary；such are the tenants of boarding…houses whom we cannot
think of without feeling how sad it is when the wind is not tempered
to the shorn lamb； when the solitary； whose hearts are shrivelling；
are not set in families！
The Master was greatly interested in the Scarabee's Muscarium。
I don't remember；he said；that I have heard of such a thing as
that before。 Mighty curious creatures； these same house…flies！ Talk
about miracles！ Was there ever anything more miraculous； so far as
our common observation goes； than the coming and the going of these
creatures？ Why didn't Job ask where the flies come from and where
they go to？ I did not say that you and I don't know； but how many
people do know anything about it？ Where are the cradles of the young
flies？ Where are the cemeteries of the dead ones； or do they die at
all except when we kill them？ You think all the flies of the year
are dead and gone； and there comes a warm day and all at once there
is a general resurrection of 'em； they had been taking a nap； that is
all。
I suppose you do not trust your spider in the Muscarium ？said I；
addressing the Scarabee。
Not exactly；he answered；she is a terrible creature。 She loves
me； I think； but she is a killer and a cannibal among other insects。
I wanted to pair her with a male spider； but it wouldn't do。
…Wouldn't do？said I；why not？ Don't spiders have their mates as
well as other folks？
…Oh yes； sometimes； but the females are apt to be particular； and if
they don't like the mate you offer them they fall upon him and kill
him and eat him up。 You see they are a great deal bigger and
stronger than the males； and they are always hungry and not always
particularly anxious to have one of the other sex bothering round。
Woman's rights！said I；there you have it！ Why don't those
talking ladies take a spider as their emblem？ Let them form
arachnoid associations； spinsters and spiders would be a good motto。
The Master smiled。 I think it was an eleemosynary smile； for my
pleasantry seems to me a particularly basso rilievo； as I look upon
it in cold blood。 But conversation at the best is only a thin
sprinkling of occasional felicities set in platitudes and
commonplaces。 I never heard people talk like the characters in the
〃School for Scandal；〃I should very much like to。…I say the Master
smiled。 But the Scarabee did not relax a muscle of his countenance。
There are persons whom the very mildest of faecetiae sets off into
such convulsions of laughter； that one is afraid lest they should
injure themselves。 Even when a jest misses fire completely； so that
it is no jest at all； but only a jocular intention； they laugh just
as heartily。 Leave out the point of your story； get the word wrong
on the duplicity of which the pun that was to excite hilarity
depended； and they still honor your abortive attempt with the most
lusty and vociferous merriment。
There is a very opposite class of persons whom anything in the nature
of a joke perplexes； troubles； and even sometimes irritates； seeming
to make them think they are trifled with； if not insulted。 If you
are fortunate enough to set the whole table laughing； one of this
class of persons will look inquiringly round； a