96 EYE SPY 
shadowy swimming-hole in the brook, that same 
gray paper nest on the overhanging branch a few 
rods up stream ? What a tempting target ! How 
the stones flew as, safe up to our necks in water, 
if need be, we pelted the paper domicile ! And 
now a lucky throw has gone straight to the mark. 
With a crushing thud the stone has penetrated 
the side and knocked off a piece of the gray wall, 
which falls to the stream below, exposing the tiers 
of paper comb, as a whirling, buzzy maze, like a 
swarm of bees, enshrouds the mangled house. 
Ah, what fun ! How we laughed at the sport ! 
for at least ten seconds. Then the tide turned, 
and how gladly had we possessed the art of the 
bull-frog, and buried ourselves in the mud until 
the storm blew over, for the " mad " warlike hor- 
nets were upon us. The red-hot child of Nature 
"was now at short range," and "stinging every 
chance they could get." " When you see a head 
hit it," seemed to be the plan of campaign, and of 
course the heads had to come up once in a while, 
and erelong were considerably enlarged, principal- 
ly through inoculation, but let us hope with wis- 
dom as well. 
" A mad hornet, and only at a little boyish fun ! 
Look on this picture, and now on this." 
I have shown our hornet under exceptional cir- 
cumstances, when anger may be a positive virtue 
and a means of grace. Following are some of 
