THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 33 



ear. The little plump brown-coated gentleman coolly brought 

 forward his pipe, and under the starveling's very nose began 

 again to draw in, after his peculiar fashion, the remainder 

 of his unfinished and apparently interminable repast. The 

 short winter's day was nearly at a close, and perishing with 

 hunger, cold, and wet, bitter seemed her end, and soon she 

 fell into a nap which promised to be much longer even than 

 her last, when she was suddenly awoke by a gentle tapping. 

 On opening her eyes, she could just discern the young face 

 of one belonging to the numerous family, all of whom she 

 had reason to believe alike hard-hearted. This little creature 

 had heard and pitied the story of her distress, when she thought 

 she had related it to none but dull cold ears. Now that her 

 elders were again busy with their pipes, the kind-hearted soul 

 crept round to their uninvited guest, to offer her her own 

 supper. The poor destitute creature thankfully received and 

 was wonderfully refreshed by the timely aid. She slept that 

 night in the old tree, and the next day contrived to reach her 

 home. 



So ends our tale : but we have yet to disclose the name of 

 our industrious, good-natured, yet withal improvident and 

 rather simple little hero. There is a certain busy worker of 

 whom it is declared, that "she provideth her meat in the 

 summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest," for which 

 sagacious proceeding all teachers of morality, from the wise 

 monarch of Israel downwards, have held her up as a bright 

 pattern of industrious forethought the prudent Ant. 



And now for the way in which these Ant communities pass 

 the winter, and for the neighbours to whom they are accus- 

 tomed to apply in time of need. These have been already 

 glanced at under the guise of fable. In the plain garb of 

 corresponding fact, let us look at them a little more closely, as 

 their doings stand recorded in some right pleasant and vera- 

 cious chronicles of the Formic nations. "Ants," says their 

 historian, (Huber, p. 239,) " usually become torpid during the 



