The Mason-Wasps 



cellent opportunity of experimenting with ap- 

 pliances which could not be used in the open 

 fields, where the little country bumpkins 

 would soon smash my glass to bits. 



All that is required is a large chemist's 

 bell-glass. At night, when all is dark and 

 the Wasps have gone home, I place it over 

 the entrance of the burrow, after first flat- 

 tening the soil. To-morrow, when the 

 Wasps resume their labours and find them- 

 selves checked in their flight, will they suc- 

 ceed in contriving a passage under the rim 

 of the bell-glass? Will these sturdy work- 

 ers, who are capable of digging a spacious 

 cavern, realize that a very short subter- 

 ranean tunnel will set them free? That is 

 the question. 



To-morrow arrives. The bright sunlight 

 falls upon the glass container. The work- 

 ers ascend in a crowd from under ground, 

 eager to go in search of provisions. They 

 butt against the transparent wall, tumble 

 down, pick themselves up again and whirl 

 round and round in a crazy swarm. Some, 

 weary of dancing this continual saraband, 

 alight on the ground, wander peevishly at 

 random and then reenter their dwelling. 

 Others take their places as the sun grows 

 hotter. Well, not one of them, note this, 

 250 



