THE ANTS' "COW-SHED" 153 



usually wingless, spidery creatures, with half-a-dozen 

 legs apiece, but with no inclination to move after 

 having once established themselves in any partic- 

 ular spot. Into the tender, juicy stem their thou- 

 sands of tiny needle-like beaks are thrust, and the 

 sap is drawn from the cells as if by miniature force 

 pumps. Up the stem come the hungry ants. Do 

 they fall upon these hordes and bear them tri- 

 umphantly home to feed their young? No, indeed. 

 Their every movement is soothing, conciliatory, 

 gentle. Their stroking and patting is soon richly 

 rewarded by the flood of honey-dew, which exudes 

 in drops from the body of each aphid. The ants 

 drink it, carry it away, and come back for more. 

 The honey-dew produced by aphids seems to be 

 entirely useless to the creatures' themselves. Its 

 production may be necessary to their develop- 

 ment. If no ants are there to profit by the fluid, 

 it rains down on the ground. At certain seasons, 

 when the quantity produced is particularly large, 

 one may often see the sticky incrustations of honey- 

 dew on the sidewalks. 



In its relation to the aphids the ant certainly 

 sustains its reputation for thrift. One need not go 

 to South America and Africa for evidences of what 

 seems little short of wisdom and forethought on 

 the part of these highly specialized little creatures. 

 In our own northern cornfields we have proofs 

 that certain kinds of ants take the corn aphids 

 into their nests and care for them over the winter. 

 In the spring they carry them out to pasture on 

 the fresh young corn. We have, too, a species of 



