But the four claws hold fast; life, before withdrawing from them, left them rigidly contracted, so that they should support without yielding the struggles and withdrawals to follow.
Now the wing-covers and wings emerge.

These are four narrow strips, vaguely seamed and furrowed, like strings of rolled tissue-paper.

They are barely a quarter of their final length.
They are so soft that they bend under their own weight, and hang down the creature's sides in the reverse of their normal position.

The free extremities, which normally point backwards, are now pointing towards the cricket's head as it hangs reversed.

The organs of future flight are like four leaves of withered foliage shattered by a terrific rainstorm.
A profound transformation is necessary to bring the wings to their final perfection.