Note 6 — Chapter XIV · THE HERMIT OF SÉRIGNAN (1879–1910)

I am now in a position to realise my second wish. I have space, air, and quiet in the solitude of the harmas. None will come here to trouble me, to smile or to be shocked at my investigations. So far, so good; but observe the irony of things: now that I am rid of passers-by, I have to fear my cats, those assiduous prowlers, who, finding my preparations, will not fail to spoil and scatter them. In anticipation of their misdeeds, I establish workshops in mid-air, whither none but genuine corruption-agents can come, flying on their wings. At different points in the enclosure, I plant reeds, three by three, which, tied at their free ends, form a stable tripod. From each of these supports I hang, at a man’s height, an earthenware pan filled with fine sand and pierced at the bottom with a hole to allow the water to escape, if it should rain. I garnish my apparatus with dead bodies. The Snake, the Lizard, the Toad receive the preference, because of their bare skins, which enable me better to follow the first attack and the work of the invaders. I ring the changes with furred and feathered beasts. A few children of the neighbourhood, allured by pennies, are my regular purveyors. Throughout the good season they come running triumphantly to my door, with a Snake at the end of a stick, or a Lizard in a cabbage-leaf. They bring me the Rat caught in a trap, the Chicken dead of the pip, the Mole slain by the gardener, the Kitten killed by accident, the Rabbit poisoned by some weed. The business proceeds to the mutual satisfaction of sellers and buyer. No such trade had ever been known before in the village, nor ever will be again.6