The Mason-Wasps 



The rest of my notes would only repeat 

 the same results. If he keep a certain di- 

 stance, the stranger is tolerated, no matter 

 what his race, his costume or his habits. If 

 he pass near a Wasp, a threat warns him and 

 puts him to flight. If he go to the pool of 

 honey, when the refectory is already occupied 

 by the Wasps, it seldom happens that the 

 daring intruder is not molested and driven 

 from the banquet. So far, blows of no 

 great gravity suffice. But, if he have the 

 misfortune to enter the actual nest, he comes 

 to a bad end, pierced by the Wasps' stings 

 or at least disembowelled by the fangs of 

 their mandibles. His corpse goes to join the 

 other refuse in the basement. 



Protected with this fierce vigilance against 

 the invasion of all intruders and deliciously 

 spoon-fed on honey, on that excellent honey 

 which causes Fly-meat to be forgotten, the 

 larvae prosper greatly in my breeding-cage, 

 though of course not all. In the Wasps'- 

 nest, as everywhere, there are weaklings who 

 are cut down before their time. 



I see these puny sufferers refuse their food 

 and slowly pine away. The nurses perceive 

 it even more clearly. They bend their heads 

 over the sorely-tried grub, they sound it with 

 their antennae, they pronounce it incurable. 



