already stated, that she may pass over a year, and not build till the third summer. Like all other insects, however, she dies when she has effected the great object of her existence, namely, the perpetuation of her species. Only by deferring the accomplishment of this object can her life be prolonged. "We term sleep a death; and yet it is waking that kills us, and destroys those spirits that are the house of life."* Yet these spirits, or, as we call them in modern physiology, the vitality, of the queen-wasp would scarcely preserve her life for so many months without the necessary fuel. She would die, if the wear and tear of her body were not reduced to a minimum during her long torpor, and if she had not a large supply of food laid up in the fat mass of her abdomen, to make her independent of the winter storms which rage outside her hidingplace.

The proceedings of a swarm of wasps are more easily explicable on ordinary physiological grounds than those of a hive of bees. From the moment it has been determined that this or that bee-larva shall be developed into a perfect female-a queen-bee-there is a mystery about the insect which only those who have made bees their peculiar study, and have an intuitive knowledge of all that is going on in a hive, can rightly appreciate. I have had no such opportunities of studying, and have no such intuitive knowledge of bees; I can only accept on the authority of others what is said of the almost reason which directs all their proceedings, which regulates the proportion of

* Browne, 'Religio Medici,' II, §12.

the sexes, which determines the division of the swarm, and presides over all the internal economy of the hive. But with regard to the queen- or motherwasp, the story is told in a few words, and without any mystery. Let me recapitulate, as briefly as possible, from a physiological point of view, the history of a wasp's nest:

In the height of the summer, when the swarm is strong and food is plentiful, when in short, so to say, the whole concern is thriving, the well fed larvæ develop into females, full, large, and overflowing with fat. There are all gradations of size, from the large fat female to the smallest worker, to be found in the swarm. All, even the smallest, may perhaps have distinct ovaries, with eggs in them, capable of being displayed by a lucky dissection. But the larger the wasp, the larger and better developed, as the rule, are the female organs, in all their details. In the largest wasps, which are to be the queens of another year, the ovaries differ to all appearance in nothing but their size from those of the larger worker wasps. At this season of the year the bulk of their abdomen is not made up of eggs, but of fat, which has its purpose in supporting life through the winter, till such time as the ovaries, with their increased size, shall assume their active functions. When there are plenty of wasps to build, with abundance of the best food, and plenty of wasps to bring it in, the larvæ are fed up to the highest point, the cells are built to suit the dimensions of the luxurious thriving grubs, and a brood results, which are fat, well developed, perfect in all their organs, and only needing impregnation to enable them to reproduce their

species in both sexes. Small feeble swarms produce few or no perfect females; but in large strong swarms they are found by the score, larger or smaller, more or less perfectly developed, more or less laden with fat. And, if the same rule holds for wasps as for bees, the more perfect the insect is the greater is the rapidity with which it is developed. Lastly, from whatever cause, whether from a voluntary act of the queen wasp, as of the queen bee, or as a simple consequence of having laid so many eggs, the last eggs are deposited without being fertilized, and drones are developed from them.

By such very simple means the perfect and imperfect females are fitted for the lives they have to lead respectively. A perfectly organized female without

supply of fat could hardly survive her winter sleep and her spring toils. A fat worker might survive the winter, but would be unable to continue the species, in both sexes, in the ensuing summer. The fat serves its present purpose, and, as it is used up, its place is more than occupied by the enlarged ovaries of the queen-mother who-unless the hornet be an exception to this rule is henceforth almost compelled, by her unwieldy size, to remain a prisoner within her own. nest.

And now to venture into the domestic privacy of wasps. If we wish to study the habits of wasps, to become more closely acquainted with them than the mere external examination and the occasional capture of a nest will allow, we must secure a swarm with its nest in active work, remove it to some place more convenient for observation than wasps usually select,

and expose the comb freely to view. The most convenient situation is a window ledge, where, under the shelter of a box without a lid, set up on end, the wasps will work as freely as in their more familiar quarters. It is advisable, before establishing the colony there, to see that the sash runs easily and without noise, that we may be able to look with our fingers, as they say, now and then, without irritating the swarm needlessly. It requires a little courage and skill to execute their removal successfully, but, once effected, the spectacle is one of constant varied interest, certainly not surpassed by that of a swarm of honey-bees; while from the smaller number of the insects their proceedings are much more easily intelligible.

Busy as wasps always are, yet a wasp's nest does not present such a scene of universal ceaseless industry as a bee-hive. The stream of life passing in and out is not so strong, and wasps may often be seen, especially in autumn, lying motionless, or slowly crawling over the case of the nest. However, even honey-bees seem indolent and indifferent sometimes, as, for instance, when they are wandering by twos and threes over a new glass which has lately been added to their establishment, and of which they have not yet fairly taken possession.

Supposing the removal of the nest and the exposure of the comb to have been successfully accomplished, the wasps will settle down to their work in a few hours. After watching for a little while we find that the wasps coming into the nest are divisible into two classes, one laden with materials for mending the injuries which the nest has suffered, the

other bringing food for the young brood. As we have already closely examined all the details of the process of building, we need not dwell any longer on these now; but, while the wasps still have any of the interior open to view, we may turn our attention to other points of their domestic economy. And first of their food.

Wasps' food is of the most varied kind, they eat fragments of meat, the bodies of insects, fruit, garbage, anything, in short, from which nourishment can be extracted. But it is the nutritive fluid which is extracted from these various bodies that they consume, rather than the solid substance itself. It is true that fragments of the harder parts of insects are sometimes found in their castings, and generally form a large portion of the contents of the intestinal pouch of the larvæ; still, as a rule, wasps live on fluid food.

When a wasp appears with her crop full of fluid, she becomes immediately a centre of attraction. Two or three gather round her, and take up the fluid as she gradually lets it drop out on the upper surface of the comb. Then the larvæ are visited in their cells, and take their food in the most sisterly way, from mouth to mouth, till the supply is exhausted, and the nurse is at liberty to go away and replenish her crop. The solid food which is brought in cannot be so easily distributed, but, however it is portioned out, there is never any quarrelling. Strong as the instinct is in wasps to snatch and hold their own against all the rest of the world, yet no feeling of resentment seems to be aroused by the loss of their prey. Once gone, whether to friend or foe, it is lost,