The Mason-bees 



shrivels up and dies, while the gorged larvae 

 of the Stelis begin to spin their strong little 

 brown cocoons, pressed close together and 

 lumped into one mass, so as to make the best 

 use of the scanty space in the crowded dwell- 

 ing. Should you inspect the cell later, you 

 will find, between the heaped cocoons on the 

 wall, a little dried-up corpse. It is the larva 

 that was such an object of care to the mother 

 Mason. The efforts of the most laborious of 

 lives have ended in this lamentable relic. It 

 has happened to me just as often, when ex- 

 amining the secrets of the cell which is at 

 once cradle and tomb, not to come upon the 

 deceased grub at all. I picture the Stelis, be- 

 fore laying her own eggs, destroying the 

 Chalicodoma's egg and eating it, as the 

 Osmias do among themselves; or I picture the 

 dying thing, an irksome mass for the numer- 

 ous spinners at work in a narrow habitation, 

 being cut to pieces to make room for the 

 medley of cocoons. But to so many deeds of 

 darkness I would not like to add another by 

 an oversight; and I prefer to admit that I 

 failed to perceive the grub that died of 

 hunger. 



Let us now show up the Dioxys. At the 

 256 



