Bramble-bees and Others 



The man who knows how to use his eyes in 

 his garden will observe, some day or other, 

 a number of curious holes in the leaves of his 

 lilac- and rose-trees, some of them round, 

 some oval, as if idle but skilful hands had 

 been at work with the pinking-iron. In some 

 places, there is scarcely anything but the veins 

 of the leaves left. The author of the mis- 

 chief is a grey-clad Bee, a Megachile. For 

 scissors, she has her mandibles; for com- 

 passes, producing now an oval and anon a 

 circle, she has her eye and the pivot of her 

 body. The pieces cut out are made Into 

 thimble-shaped wallets, destined to contain 

 the honey and the egg: the larger, oval 

 pieces supply the floor and sides; the smaller, 

 round pieces are reserved for the lid. A row 

 of these thimbles, placed one on top of the 

 other, up to a dozen or more, though often 

 there are less: that is, roughly, the structure 

 of the Leaf-cutter's nest. 



When taken out of the recess In which the 

 mother has manufactured it, the cylinder of 

 cells seems to be an Indivisible whole, a sort 

 of tunnel obtained by lining with leaves some 

 gallery dug underground. The real thing 

 does not correspond with its appearance: un- 



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