96 EYE SPY 



shadowy swimming-hole in the brook, that same 

 gray paper nest on the overhanging branch a few 

 rods up stream ? What a tempting target ! How 

 the stones flew as, safe up to our necks in water, 

 if need be, we pelted the paper domicile ! And 

 now a lucky throw has gone straight to the mark. 

 With a crushing thud the stone has penetrated 

 the side and knocked off a piece of the gray wall, 

 which falls to the stream below, exposing the tiers 

 of paper comb, as a whirling, buzzy maze, like a 

 swarm of bees, enshrouds the mangled house. 

 Ah, what fun ! How we laughed at the sport ! — 

 for at least ten seconds. Then the tide turned, 

 and how gladly had we possessed the art of the 

 bull-frog, and buried ourselves in the mud until 

 the storm blew over, for the " mad " warlike hor- 

 nets were upon us. The red-hot child of Nature 

 " was now at short range," and " stinging every 

 chance they could get." " When you see a head 

 hit it," seemed to be the plan of campaign, and of 

 course the heads had to come up once in a while, 

 and erelong were considerably enlarged, principal- 

 ly through inoculation, but let us hope with wis- 

 dom as well. 



" A mad hornet, and only at a little boyish fun ! 

 Look on this picture, and now on this." 



I have shown our hornet under exceptional cir- 

 cumstances, when anger may be a positive virtue 

 and a means of grace. Following are some of 



