THE WASP. 163 



The successive layers of which the cell-walls are composed can 

 be easily seen when the comb is held to a strong side light ; and 

 it sometimes happens that the Wasp finds pieces of paper lying 

 near the nest, bites them to pieces in the same manner that it bites 

 the wood-fibres, and then uses them for its nest. I have seen a 

 nest which was made almost entirely of the blue and white paper 

 used for cartridges, the Wasps having taken advantage of the ex- 

 pended papers, and used them instead of taking the trouble to 

 gnaw hard wood. The covering of the nest is of much rougher 

 texture than the cells themselves, and looks like a number of tiny 

 oyster-shells piled on each other like the " grotto" of metropoli- 

 tan children. It is made very simply by laying a lump of the 

 fibrous paste upon the nest, and sweeping it backward and for- 

 ward to flatten it, just as a bricklayer spreads a lump of mortar 

 with his trowel. No attempt is made to smooth the surface, and 

 the impression of the little architect's head can be seen upon each 

 successive patch, or tile, if we may so call it. 



This woody fibre seems but a flimsy substance for the mate- 

 rials of a nest which can contain so many individuals. In a large 

 nest there are always from two to three thousand inhabitants, 

 more than half that number being the fat and weighty grubs. If 

 the insects were removed from the nest, and placed in a pair of 

 scales, their united mass would be so heavy as to cause a feeling 

 of wonder that so slight a habitation could endure their weight. 

 The walls, however, are stronger than they seem to be, and the 

 hexagonal shape of the cells affords such mutual support that the 

 walls can not only bear the weight of the insects within them, 

 but, as has already been mentioned, are strong enough to uphold 

 a series of cells that are suspended to them. 



At the end of the season, after successive bands of worker 

 wasps have passed through the cells, and the single generation 

 of the males and females has come to maturity, the nest shows 

 symptoms of dissolution. If there are any grubs still left in the 

 comb, the workers at once change their behavior. Instead of 

 feeding and tending them with jealous care, instead of defending 

 them at the risk of their own lives, they pull these helpless white 

 things out of their cradles, carry them far out of the nest, and 

 abandon them. It seems a cruelty, and so it is ; but it is a cruel 

 mercy, substituting a quick death by exposure, or, perchance, be- 

 ing eaten by birds, for a slow and lingering death by starvation 

 within the nest. For the instinct of the workers tells them that 



