The Bumble-Bee Fly 



above. That public granary, lavishly stocked 

 by death, will become a busy factory of fresh 

 life. Who are the guests summoned to the 

 banquet? 



If the Wasps flew away, carrying the dead 

 or sickly grubs with them, and dropped them 

 on the ground round about their home, those 

 banqueters would be, first and foremost, the 

 insect-eating birds, the Warblers, all of whom 

 are lovers of small game. In this connection, 

 we will allow ourselves a brief digression. We 

 all know with what jealous intolerance the 

 Nightingales occupy each his own cantonment. 

 Neighbourly intercourse among them is ta- 

 booed. The males frequently exchange de- 

 fiant couplets at a distance; but, should the 

 challenged party draw near, the challenger 

 makes him clear off. Now, not far from my 

 house, in a scanty clump of holly-oaks which 

 would barely give the woodcutter the where- 

 withal for a dozen faggots, I used, all through 

 the spring, to hear such full-throated warbling 

 of Nightingales that the songs of those virtu- 

 osi, all giving voice at once and with no at- 

 tempt at order, degenerated into a deafening 

 hubbub. 



Why did those passionate devotees of soli- 

 tude come and settle in such large numbers at 



253 



