FABRE'S BOOK OF INSECTS 



place the Ant in the front rank of insects! Books are 

 written in her honour, and the stream of praise never 

 runs dry. The naturalists hold her in great esteem; and 

 add daily to her fame. It would seem that with animals, 

 as with men, the surest way to attract attention is to 

 do harm to others. 



Nobody asks about the Beetles who do such valuable 

 work as scavengers, whereas everybody knows the Gnat, 

 that drinker of men's blood; the Wasp, that hot-tempered 

 swashbuckler, with her poisoned dagger; and the Ant, 

 that notorious evil-doer who, in our southern villages, 

 saps and imperils the rafters of a dwelling as cheerfully 

 as she eats a fig. 



The Ant massacres the Crickets in my garden so 

 thoroughly that I am driven to look for them outside the 

 enclosure. In August, among the fallen leaves, where 

 the grass has not been wholly scorched by the sun, I 

 find the young Cricket, already rather big, and now black 

 all over, with not a vestige of his white girdle remaining. 

 At this period of his life he is a vagabond : the shelter of 

 a dead leaf or a flat stone is enough for him. 



Many of those who survived the raids of the Ants now 

 fall victims to the Wasp, who hunts down the wanderers 

 and stores them underground. If they would but dig 

 their dwellings a few weeks before the usual time they 

 would be saved; but they never think of it. They are 

 faithful to their ancient customs. 



[186] 



