ong men.

Micromegas, a much better observer than his dwarf, clearly saw that
the atoms were speaking to each other, and pointed this out to his
companion, who, ashamed of being mistaken about them reproducing, did
not want to believe that such a species could communicate. He had the
gift of language as well as the Sirian. He could not hear the atoms
talk, and he supposed that they did not speak. Moreover, how could
these impossibly small beings have vocal organs, and what would they
have to say? To speak, one must think, more or less; but if they
think, they must therefore have the equivalent of a soul. But to
attribute the equivalent of a soul to this species seemed absurd to
him.

"But," said the Sirian, "you believed right away that they made love.
Do you believe that one can make love without thinking and without
uttering one word, or at least without making oneself heard? Do you
suppose as well that it is more difficult to produce an argument than
an infant? Both appear to be great mysteries to me."

"I do not dare believe or deny it," said the dwarf. "I have no more
opinions. We must try to examine these insects and reason after."

"That is very well said," echoed Micromegas, and he briskly took out
a pair of scissors with which he cut his fingernails, and from the
parings of his thumbnail he improvised a kind of speaking-trumpet,
like a vast funnel, and put the end up to his ear. The circumference
of the funnel enveloped the vessel and the entire crew. The weakest
voice entered into the circular fibers of the nails in such a way
that, thanks to his industriousness, the philosopher above could hear
the drone of our insects below perfectly. In a small number of hours
he was able to distinguish words, and finally to understand French.
The dwarf managed to do the same, though with more difficulty. The
voyagers' surprise redoubled each second. They heard the mites speak
fairly intelligently. This performance of nature's seemed
inexplicable to them. You may well believe that the Sirian and the
dwarf burned with impatience to converse with the atoms. The dwarf
feared that his thunderous voice, and assuredly Micromegas, would
deafen the mites without being understood. They had to diminish its
force. They placed toothpicks in their mouths, whose tapered ends
fell around the ship. The Sirian put the dwarf on his knees and the
ship with its crew on a fingernail. He lowered his head and spoke
softly. Finally, relying