A HONEY-DEW PICNIC 157 



leaves, preferring to sit upon a neighboring weed 

 and watch his opportunities. 



I have thus described a few of the more promi- 

 nent guests or personages present at the feast. 

 But I have reported little of their "goings on." 

 Doubtless there were appropriate toasts and re- 

 sponses, or what in bug etiquette answered to this 

 seemingly indispensable human fad, while as to 

 that other festive social essential of after-dinner 

 speeches, coupled in this case with most vigorous 

 discussion, I am certain the air was blue with 

 something of this sort, if the eloquent pantomime 

 bore any significance. Here, for instance, is one 

 isolated, but frequent, episode. A peaceable little 

 group of plain bluebottle -flies, with but a single 

 thought, are all sipping at the same drop in con- 

 tentment. A brief respite, for now the tips of a 

 pair of inquisitive antennae appear from the under 

 edge of the leaf upon which they are sipping, and 

 gingerly explore the upper surface. They are 

 quickly followed by the covetous almond-eyed 

 gaze of a brown wasp, that now steals cautiously 

 around to the upper surface, and appears wholly 

 engrossed in licking the leaf. Nearer and nearer 

 he sidles up to the group of flies, and now with 

 deliberate purpose and open jaws makes a dash 

 among them. But they are too quick for him, 



