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LIFE, IN ITS INTERMEDIATE FORMS. 
able, are equalled, if not indeed surpassed, by those of the 
social Wasps ; though these latter, because they do not 
minister to our wants, and perhaps, also, because of their 
irascibility, are viewed with a dislike, which has tended 
to avert from their architecture that measure of popular 
attention which it well deserves. 
The common Wasp (Vespa vulgaris) conceals her work 
beneath the surface of the earth ; there she builds a sub- 
terranean city. We say “ she,” for it is observable that 
the populous commonwealth which teems forth on the 
uncovering of a “Wopso’s nest,” is exclusively the pro- 
geny of one mother Wasp, which has survived the winter : 
and the city was built, or at least founded, by her alone. 
She first finds or makes an excavation in some hedge- 
bank — a winding gallery a foot or more in length, and 
an inch in diameter, opening at length into a capacious 
chamber, as large as a butter-firkin, or larger. This being 
prepared, she seeks her materials for building. These are 
not wax, but paper. From window-sills, weather-beaten 
palings, old posts, and similar sources, the industrious in- 
sect collects tlio minute surface-fibres with her mandibles, 
bruising them, and moistening them with a liquid from 
her mouth, until they form a pappy substance, which is 
nothing else than a true paper. 
“ With this material the mother Wasp begins to line the 
roof of her burrow, always building from above down- 
wards. The round ball of fibres which she has previously 
kneaded up with glue, she now forms into a leaf, walking 
backwards, and spreading it out with her mandibles, her 
tongue, and her feet, till it is almost as thin as tissue- 
paper. 
