"What is this hexapode?" Cousin Benedict asked himself.
Behold him, seeking to perceive the insect, which was very difficult
to his eyes without glasses, but trying above all to recognize it by
the buzzing of its wings.
His instinct as an entomologist warned him that he had something to
accomplish, and that the insect, so providentially entered into his
hut, ought not to be the first comer.
Cousin Benedict no longer moved. He listened. A few rays of light
reached him. His eyes then discovered a large black point that flew
about, but did not pass near enough for him to recognize it. He held
his breath, and if he felt himself stung in some part of the face or
hands, he was determined not to make a single movement that might put
his hexapode to flight. At last the buzzing insect, after turning
around him for a long time, came to rest on his head. Cousin
Benedict's mouth widened for an instant, as if to give a smile--and
what a smile! He felt the light animal running on his hair. An
irresistible desire to put his hand there seized him for a moment; but
he resisted it, and did well.
"No, no!" thought he, "I would miss it, or what would be worse, I
would injure it. Let it come more within my reach. See it walking! It
descends. I feel its dear little feet running on my skull! This must
be a hexapode of great height.
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