I pack it Pretty firmly in a glass vase; I plant in it a little tuft of thyme; I sow in it a few grains of wheat.

There is no hole at the bottom of the vase, although there should be one for the benefit of the thyme and the corn; but the captives would find it and escape by it.
The plantation and the crop will suffer from this lack of drainage, but at least I am sure of recovering my larvae with the help of patience and a magnifying-glass.

Moreover, I shall go gently in the matter of irrigation, giving only just enough water to save the plants from perishing.
When all is in order, and when the wheat is beginning to shoot, I place six young larvae of the Cigale on the surface of the soil.

The tiny creatures begin to pace hither and thither; they soon explore the surface of their world, and some try vainly to climb the sides of the vase.

Not one of them seems inclined to bury itself; so that I ask myself anxiously what can be the object of their prolonged and active explorations.