156 WILD LIFE AT HOME. 



jar with plenty of earth, and then stood the whole 

 in a big bowl of water. On several occasions when 

 I removed the covering of the jar to feed the in- 

 sects I purposely left it off, and watched to see what 

 would happen. Numbers fell over into the water 

 through trying to escape. These I put back again, 

 thinking they would communicate the danger to 

 their comrades and thus prevent any more immer- 

 sions. They either failed to do so or their warnings 

 were unheeded, for adventurous spirits still continued 

 to explore and fall over into the moat. I tried 

 them over and over again at intervals of a day or 

 two, but always with the same result. 



They are excellent scavengers, and anyone desir- 

 ous of having a bird's egg that cannot be blown 

 cleaned out has nothing to do but bury it in an 

 ant-hill for a couple of days. I have buried dead 

 birds, the skeletons of which I required, in a small 

 cardboard box, perforated along the sides, and a day 

 or two afterwards there has not been a particle of 

 flesh left. 



I have seen an ant carry a piece of cake twice 

 its size, and in all probability also twice its own 

 weight, up a steep bank side, and the patience and 

 ingenuity the little creature displayed in surmount- 

 ing different obstacles along its path were truly 

 marvellous. 



Once upon a time, as the story-books put it, 

 some aristocratic French exile living amongst the 

 Surrey hills pined for a dish of edible snails. A 



