The Mason-bees 



the winter frosts; ramparts against incur- 

 sions of the enemy. Everything is in order, 

 at least so she thinks; but, alas, what a mis- 

 take the poor mother is making! Here the 

 hateful fatality stands revealed, aspera fata, 

 which ruins the producer to provide a living 

 for the drone ; here we see the stupid and fe- 

 rocious law that sacrifices the worker for the 

 idler's benefit. What have we done, we and 

 the insects, to be ground with sovereign in- 

 difference under the mill-stone of such 

 wretchedness? Oh, what terrible, what 

 heart-rending questions the Mason-bee's mis- 

 fortunes would bring to my lips, if I gave 

 free scope to my sombre thoughts ! But let 

 us avoid these useless whys and keep within 

 the province of the mere recorder. 



There are some ten of them plotting the 

 ruin of the peaceable and industrious Bee; and 

 I do not know them all. Each has her own 

 tricks, her own art of injury, her own ex- 

 terminating tactics, so that no part of the 

 Mason's work may escape destruction. Some 

 seize upon the victuals, others feed on the 

 larvae, others again convert the dwelling to 

 their own use. Everything has to submit: 

 cell, provisions, scarce-weaned nurselings. 

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