The Mason-bees 



upon my staff; here — an indispensable condi- 

 tion — I had not the irresistible temptation of 

 the unripe apricots to fear for my scholars. 

 The plain stretched far and wide, covered 

 with nothing but flowering thyme and 

 rounded pebbles. There was ample scope 

 for every imaginable polygon; trapezes and 

 triangles could be combined in all sorts of 

 ways. The inaccessible distances had ample 

 elbow-room; and there was even an old ruin, 

 once a pigeon-house, that lent its perpendicu- 

 lar to the graphometer's performances. 



Well, from the very first day, my atten- 

 tion was attracted by something suspicious. 

 If I sent one of the boys to plant a stake, I 

 would see him stop frequently on his way, 

 bend down, stand up again, look about and 

 stoop once more, neglecting his straight line 

 and his signals. Another, who was told to 

 pick up the arrows, would forget the iron pin 

 and take up a pebble instead; and a third, 

 deaf to the measurements of angles, would 

 crumble a clod of earth between his fingers. 

 Most of them were caught licking a bit of 

 straw. The polygon came to a full stop, the 

 diagonals suffered. What could the mystery 

 be? 



