The Halicti : the Portress 



exact and indelible image Is stamped on their 

 virgin memories. Despite the years, I still 

 see the stone whence came the resonant notes 

 of the little Toads, the parapet of currant- 

 bushes, the notary's garden of Eden. These 

 trifles make the best part of my life. The 

 Halictus sees in the same way the blade of 

 grass whereon she rested in her first flight, the 

 bit of gravel which her claw touched in her 

 first climb to the top of the shaft. She knows 

 her native abode by heart just as I know my 

 village. The locality has become familiar to 

 her in one glad, sunny morning. 



She flies off, seeks refreshment on the flow- 

 ers near at hand and visits the fields where the 

 coming harvests will be gathered. The dis- 

 tance does not lead her astray, so faithful are 

 her impressions of her first trip; she finds the 

 encampment of her tribe; among the burrows 

 of the village, so numerous and so closely re- 

 sembling one another, she knows her own. It 

 is the house where she was born, the beloved 

 house with its unforgettable memories. 



But, on returning home, the Halictus is not 

 the only mistress of the house. The dwelling 

 dug by the solitary Bee in early spring re- 

 mains, when summer comes, the joint inhcrit- 



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