Bramble-bees and Others 



floor, then shake the dust off their wings and 

 fly away. I find them, opposite my window, 

 in the refreshment-bar of the lilac-bush, 

 whose branches are bending with the weight 

 of their scented panicles. Here they get 

 drunk with sunshine and draughts of honey. 

 Those who have had their fill come home and 

 fly assiduously from tube to tube, placing their 

 heads in the orifices to see if some female 

 will at long last make up her mind to emerge. 

 One does, in point of fact. She is cov- 

 ered with dust and has the disordered toilet 

 that is inseparable from the hard work of the 

 deliverance. A lover has seen her, so has a 

 second, likewise a third. All crowd around 

 her. The lady responds to their advances by 

 clashing her mandibles, which open and shut 

 rapidly, several times in succession. The 

 suitors forthwith fall back; and they also, no 

 doubt to keep up their dignity, execute sa- 

 vage mandibular grimaces. Then the beauty 

 retires into the arbour and her wooers resume 

 their places on the threshold. A fresh ap- 

 pearance of the female, who repeats the play 

 with her jaws; a fresh retreat of the males, 

 who do the best they can to flourish their own 

 pincers. The Osmiae have a strange way of 



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