170 



SCIENCE-GOSSIP. 



[Aug. 1, 1865. 



THE HOUSE ANT. 



LET me be cool, let me bear it all in meek and 

 ■ seemly resignation, above all let not my trials 

 tempt me to launch forth a torrent of invectives 

 against my dumb tormentors. What ! though Job 

 the patient, the much-enduring, may never have 

 suffered at the hands, or rather jaws, of so many re- 

 lentless persecutors as has done— and does do — your 

 particulcuiy humble servant at your service. What ! 



though But "vvhy, harrowing with a tale of 



woe, should I aggravate, by suspense, the lacerated 

 feelings of my already sympathizing reader. Enough : 



let me briefly to the point ; my complaint is— 



why should I disguise it — ants ! execrable, unmiti- 

 gated ants ! 



Know, then, all men, that I, the martyr par 

 excellence, have ever been the butt of insects : while 

 yet the tenant of a cradle never, more than I, was 

 hapless babe a victim to the midnight prowling 

 Cifiiex, which in later years has lain in wait for me at 

 sea-side villages : know that at the tender age of six 

 a contest with a humble bee respecting the proprie- 

 torship of some toothsome morsel resulted in my 

 being ignominiously be-humbled. Eurthermore, be 

 it known, that after an unwarrantable, though purely 

 accidental, intrusion upon the inmates of a wasps' 

 nest, into which I had most literally put my foot, a 

 score of stings of these aculeate individuals were, 

 once upon a time, extracted from my suffering body 

 by aid of the inevitable key j and that, at a more ad- 

 vanced period of my existence, my first attempt at 

 beetle-hunting ended in an inglorious and precipitate 

 retreat homewards with many hundred fleas anent 

 my person, collected promiscuously during a hasty 

 investigation of an untenanted henhouse, which, 

 unfortunately for me, had looked likely. 



Gaunt gnats, gadflies, and a host of other double- 

 barrelled excruciators show an invariable and un- 

 desirable preference for my surfaces, sucking my 



blood freely, for I am juicy. Bluebottles, in 



evident anticipation of my speedy demise, assail me 

 with ferocity, and not uufrequently get off unscathed ; 

 while with ticks, bobs, harvestmen, and the rest of 

 these human tormentors, excepting, perhaps, the 

 insinuating scabies, and one or two others I could 

 mention, my experience has been both practical 

 and painful. Indeed, it would seem that most of 

 the objectionable members of our " invertebrate zoolo- 

 gical fauna" have selected me to perform their, 

 maybe interestmg, but, to me, excessively unpleasant, 

 operations on. But, there what are these com- 

 pared with ants, which, now as I advance in years, 

 are my unbidden guests. 



I am not speaking of the bodily pain inflicted by 

 the pismire, although with that I am perfectly 

 familiar, but of the mental havoc played by certain 

 httle emmets in their destructive raids upon one's 

 peace of mind and property simultaneously. 



The subject of my paper rejoices in the appellation 



of DiplorJwptrum molesta ; its description is but 



no matter if anyone should desire to be personally 



acquainted with it, I can supply him with living 

 types beyond his expectations ; suffice it, the crea- 

 ture is small and brown, and of a highly predaceous 

 nature, attacking not merely stately man himself, 

 but devouring with an avidity perfectly preposterous 

 when the diminutive bulk of the consumer is con- 

 sidered, articles of consumption in daily domestic use; 

 and, what now more nearly concerns the narrator, ju- 

 bilating in the annihilation of the moth tribe, be they 

 living or dead, in all their stages (eggs included). 

 And here I may as well confess that my juvenile, as 

 well as more adult, proclivities, have undoubtedly led 

 me to woric the Lepidoptera of my country, which re- 

 minds me that the infhction under which I groan may 

 possibly be but a just retribution for having, in my 

 time, stifled, impaled, and converted into specimens 

 so many moths and butterflies ; be that as it may, it 

 is not to the point, and therefore the less said about 

 it the better. 



But to proceed. This little pest inhabits houses 

 in various parts of London ; some localities pro- 

 ducing it in such prodigious quantities as actually to 

 impart considerable seasoning to the viands with 

 which it is unavoidably served up ; — indeed, I have 

 been credibly informed by one of the first entomolo- 

 gists of the day that, on changing his abode after a 

 protracted residence among the house ants, he had 

 greatly missed the flavour of them. The neighbour- 

 hood of Russell Square, a site in appalling proximity 

 to our National Collection, appears to abound in this 

 living commodity, and Brighton, as I see by a paper 

 in the Entomologists' Monthly, also harbours it. 



As to the habits of this industrious little creature, 

 how shall I describe them ? Let us imagine that, 

 after a hard and successful day's collecting, the 

 insect-hunter has stretched and, heedless of Dlplo- 

 rhoptrum, stowed away his treasures ; we will suppose 

 that he (said insect-hunter) has gone to roost radiant 

 with the captures of the day, and that his slumbers are 

 dotted o'er with phantoms of impossible new species 

 — I say we will suppose so. The morrow dawns, 

 and " ! wondrous changes of a fatal scene still 

 varying to the last," the features of our hero now 

 present just a trifle less of that soft expression of 

 ineffable satisfaction which erewhile they wore, as 

 he gazes on the wreck of what was yester-e'en a 



galaxy of beauty Yes ! there they are, plying 



their jaws, in groups around each specimen, hard at 

 work— nibbhng antennae— trampling with a thou- 

 sand tiny tarsi the "fluff" from off the wings — 

 playing at hide and seek ui the capacious sinuses 

 already formed within the bodies of their disem- 

 bowelled victims — or baiting to the death some 

 living prisoned moth.— Poor, innocent, industrious, 

 unsuspecting little brutes, it is your last meal. I 

 draw a veil. But what availeth benzine, is not 



