IN THE BUNGALOW. 



this.! Surely she cannot be considered 

 to be answerable for the state of the 

 walls in which the ants congregate and 

 build their comfortable, cosy and busy 

 dwellings ! ! 



From my cogitations on the Ant World 

 and their diligent perverseness I was 

 aroused by hearing the voice of my friend 

 raised in lamentation. Her fair head 

 was, 1 was going to say, was buried, in an 

 immense tin canister, or so it appeared to 

 me. From its upper end a most distress- 

 ed countenance emerged and I was invit- 

 ed, as an expert this time, to come and 

 inspect. At the bottom of the vessel I saw 

 a layer of a white substance which I took, 

 and correctly so I was informed, to be 

 flour. 



Now, I knew little about flour in those 

 free and easy salad days and I don't 

 know that I know much more about it 

 now. L was, however, aware that it made 

 bread after being subjected to various pro- 

 cesses. Also I would have said that it 



