THE ATTAS AT HOME 18% 
I selected one large queen as she appeared and 
watched her closely. Slowly and with great ef- 
fort she climbed the steep ascent into the blazing 
sunlight. Five tiny Minims were clinging to her 
body and wings, all scrubbing and cleaning as 
hard as they could. She chose a clear space, 
Spread her wings, wide and flat, stood high upon 
her six legs and waited. I fairly shouted at this 
change, for slight though it was, it worked magic, 
and the queen Atta was a queen no more, but 
a miniature, straddle-legged aeroplane, pushed 
into position, and overrun by a crowd of mechan- 
ics, putting the finishing touches, tightening the 
wires, oiling every pliable crevice. A Medium 
¢ame along, tugged at a leg and the obliging 
little plane lifted it for inspection. For three 
minutes this kept up, and then the plane became 
a queen and moved restlessly. Without warn- 
ing, as if some irresponsible mechanic had turned 
the primed propellers, the four mighty wings 
whirred—and four Minims were hurled head over 
heels a foot away, snapped from their positions. 
The sound of the wings was almost too exact 
an imitation of the snarl of a starting plane— 
the comparison was absurd in its exactness of 
timbre and resonance. It was only a test, how- 
