52 Tlie Humming Bird. 



THE WAYS OF WASPS. 



In many parts there is a regular plague of wasps. Here 

 are some interesting facts about these pests. 



I know naturalists say that the wasp has really no blood- 

 thirsty designs in our direction, but I have not noticed this 

 myself. Anyway, they always go for me and I always 

 retaliate and slay them wholesale and when they are asleep 

 if possible. In my opinion, the taking of a wasps' nest is a 

 great and glorious occupation- — if you don't get stung. 



There are more wasps about this year than ever. But in 

 1892 there were hardly any to be found. It is easy to under- 

 stand why, too, if we look into their domestic ways and habits. 



At the end of each summer every '^waspy," as the 

 village lads call them, who has escaped the avenging hand of 

 man falls into the clutches of death with the exception of the 

 biggest females or self-crowned queens. Now^ upon these 

 ladies depends the entire responsibility of propogating the 

 species. On the death of their husbands they become torpid, 

 and so manage to survive the cold bleak winter, which kills 

 so many millions of their tribe. 



Sometimes as many as 500 of these regal dames are 

 produced in one nest, and if there happen to be a succession 

 of heavy rains, the chances are that the hibernating queens 

 are drowned in their beds. And every female carried off 

 represents a loss of from 10,000 to 30,000 wasps the next 

 season. And so it is easy to understand that a wet winter 

 materially reduces the number of nests for us to take during 

 the ensuing summer. 



On the advent of spring every queen who has survived 

 quits her snug quarters and sails out into the open air to 

 select a suitable site for her future home. 



By the side of sunny banks she flits searching for apart- 

 ments. If she cannot find a decent rat hole or other sub- 

 terranean passage, she starts building on her own account. 

 As soon as the excavations are complete, or the original ones 

 altered and improved to her majesty's taste, the problem of 

 upholstering the establishment presents itself. Off she darts 

 and searches diligently till she finds a tree with rotting bark, 

 or some weather-beaten paling. 



Clinging to the wooden fence or gnarled branches, as the 

 case may be, she strips off* scraps of the outside wood and 

 gathers them in bundles, leaving behind her a pale glistening- 

 streak wherever she has passed. 



