The Tribulations of the Mason-bee 



on achieving the perfect state, were unable to 

 open the exit-door through the cement and 

 who withered in their cells; they contain dead 

 larvs, turned into black, brittle cylinders; un- 

 touched provisions, both mouldy and fresh, 

 on which the egg has come to grief; tattered 

 cocoons; shreds of skins; relics of the trans- 

 formation. 



If we remove the nest of the Chalicodoma 

 of the Sheds from its tile — a nest sometimes 

 quite eight inches thick — we find live inhabi- 

 tants only in a thin outer layer. All the re- 

 mainder, the catacombs of past generations, is 

 but a horrible heap of dead, shrivelled, 

 ruined, decomposed things. Into this sub- 

 stratum of the ancient city the unreleased 

 Bees, the untransformed larvae fall as dust; 

 here the honey-stores of old go sour, here the 

 uneaten provisions are reduced to mould. 



Three undertakers, all members of the 

 Beetle tribe, a Clerus, a Ptinus and an An- 

 threnus, batten on these remains. The larvae 

 of the Anthrenus and the Ptinus gnaw the 

 ashes of the corpses; the larva of the Clerus, 

 with the black head and the rest of its body 

 a pretty pink, appeared to me to be breaking 

 into the old jam-pots filled with rancid honey. 

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