The Clythrs 



tailing no little .delicacy of execution. I can 

 quite well see how the grub lengthens and en- 

 larges it; but I cannot imagine how it begins 

 it. If it has nothing to serve as a mould and 

 a base, how does it set to work to assemble 

 the first layers of paste into a neatly-shaped 

 cup? 



Our potters have their lathe, the tray 

 which keeps the work rotating and imple- 

 ments to determine its outline. Could the 

 Clythra, an exceptional ceramic artist, work 

 without a base and without a guide? It 

 strikes me as an insurmountable difficulty. I 

 know the insect to be capable of many re- 

 markable industrial feats; but, before admit- 

 ting that the jar can be based on nothing, we 

 should have to see the new-born artist at 

 work. Perhaps it has resources bequeathed 

 to it by its mother; perhaps the egg presents 

 peculiarities which will solve the riddle. Let 

 us rear the insect, collect its eggs; then the 

 pottery will tell us the secret of its beginnings. 



I install three species of Clythrae under 

 wire-gauze covers, each with a bed of sand 

 and a bottle of water containing a few young 

 ilex-shoots, which I renew as and when they 

 fade. All three species are common on the 

 holm-oak: they are the Long-legged Clythra 

 (C. longipes, FAB.), the Four-spotted Cly- 



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