144 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. 



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 expended 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 metropolitan children. It is made very 

 simply by laying a lump of the fibrous paste upon the nest, and 

 sweeping it backwards and forwards to flatten it, just as a brick- 

 layer spreads a lump oT 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 materials 

 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 behaviour. 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, caiTy 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, per- 

 chance, being eaten by birds, for a slow and lingering death by 



