Bramble-bees and Others 



when there Is nothing useful left to do. This 

 worker knows no rest but death. 



I have said enough about the dwelling of 

 the Diadem Anthidium; let us look at the in- 

 habitant and her provisions. The honey is 

 pale-yellow, homogeneous and of a semifluid 

 consistency, which prevents it from trickling 

 through the porous cotton bag. The egg 

 floats on the surface of the heap, with the end 

 containing the head dipped into the paste. To 

 follow the larva through its progressive 

 stages is not without interest, especially on 

 account of the cocoon, which is one of the 

 most singular that I know. With this object 

 in view, I prepare a few cells that lend them- 

 selves to observation. I take a pair of scis- 

 sors, slice a piece off the side of the cotton- 

 wool purse, so as to lay bare both the victuals 

 and the consumer, and place the ripped cell 

 in a short glass tube. During the first few 

 days, nothing striking happens. The little 

 grub, with its head still plunged in the honey, 

 slakes its thirst with long draughts and waxes 

 fat. A moment comes . . . But let us go 

 back a little farther, before broaching this 

 question of sanitation. 



Every grub, of whatever kind, fed on pro- 



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