The Mason-bees 



one giddy. The under side of a balcony also 

 pleases the Mason-bee, as does the embrasure 

 of a disused window, especially if it is closed 

 by a blind whose slats allow her a free pas- 

 sage. But these are popular resorts, where 

 hundreds and thousands of workers labour, 

 each for herself. If she be alone, which hap- 

 pens pretty often, the Sicilian Mason-bee in- 

 stals herself in the first little nook handy, pro- 

 vided that it supplies a solid foundation and 

 warmth. As for the nature of this founda- 

 tion, she does not seem to mind. I have seen 

 her build on the bare stone, on bricks, on the 

 wood of a shutter and even on the window- 

 panes of a shed. One thing only does not 

 suit her: the plaster of our houses. She is 

 as prudent as her kinswoman and would fear 

 the ruin of her cells, if she entrusted them to 

 a support which might possibly fall. 



Lastly, for reasons which I am still unable 

 to explain to my own satisfaction, the Sicilian 

 Mason-bee often changes the position of her 

 building entirely, turning her heavy house of 

 clay, which would seem to require the solid 

 support of a rock, into an aerial dwelling. A 

 hedge-shrub of any kind whatever — haw- 

 thorn, pomegranate, Christ's-thorn — pro- 



