1.50 THE CANADIAN ENTOMOLOGIST. 



return the larvre begin again their labors, penetrating deeper and deeper 

 into the heart of the tree, sometimes tunnelling as much as three inches 

 into the solid wood ; they make long and winding galleries up and down 

 the trunks. A carpenter is known by his chips, so their presence is 

 readily detected by the little heaps of sawdust that they throw out of their 

 work-shops. If in time a stiff wire is inserted into their holes they can 

 be easily put an end to by impaling. They are long, whitish, fleshy, 

 deeply marked by transverse cuts ; their legs, although sixteen in number, 

 are merely rudimentary promises of legs, and for ornament, not use ; they 

 are of no avail for the purpose of locomotion. Not by means of their 

 eight pairs of legs, but by alternately contracting and extending the seg- 

 ments of their bodies, do these worm-like creatures force their way along, 

 and in order to assist their progress each segment is furnished with fleshy 

 tubercles capable of protrusion, and which being pressed against the sides 

 of their retreats, enable them to thrust forward by degrees the other seg- 

 ments (Ent. Rep., 1872, p. 36). 



The head is the box of tools with which they saw and cut their way 

 through the wood ; their work " is done slowly but effectively, and their 

 gnawing teeth, though slow in action, are as resistless as the mordant 

 tooth of time." 



About midsummer these busy little carpenters who have never 

 seen the light of day, unless by accident, strike — not for higher 

 wages — but for a higher stage of existence ; they labor no more, but in 

 the innermost recesses of their living homes fold themselves up snugly for 

 their pupa sleep. At first the nymph is soft and whitish, but gradually it 

 hardens and darkens till at last it lies enwrapped in a filmy veil, beneath 

 which all the external parts of the future beetle are visible. The wings 

 and the legs are folded calmly on the breast, while the long antennae are 

 turned back against the sides of the body and then tucked up between 

 the legs. When at length it has become matured, it breaks its slumbers, 

 forces its way through the bark, and comes out of its dark and narrow 

 retreat to see the world and enjoy for the first time the glorious light of 

 day and the pleasures of legs and wings, and love and passion, and to 

 propagate its race. 



Clytus pidus Drury, or the Painted Clytus, is another of our common 

 species. Its form is very similar to that of C. spcciosus, and it varies from 

 six-tenths to three-fourths of an inch in length. Harris thus describes it : 

 It is velvet black, and ornamented with transverse vellow bands, of which 



