294 
NATURE S CRAFTSMEN 
will go on a hunt on her own hook for the balance 
of the day.” 
But he did not know Mrs. Hairy. The season 
was nearing its close. It was her task to stock 
as many burrows as possible before Jack Frost’s 
advent, and so with scarcely a moment spent in 
calculation, she moved down the bank a little 
farther and began the measurements for a new 
excavation. 
“ The best of luck to you, my friend,” saluted 
Tommy. “ I see you are like a host of other 
women kind; you don’t know when to quit! ” 
And he followed the others up into the corn¬ 
field to look for another insect nerve specialist, 
which was also a tireless hunter. 
“ This little enthusiast,” he informed, “ is a 
hunter whose services are not half appreciated by 
the farmers. She goes gunning for the plump 
mischievous offspring of the May-beetle, the tiny 
rascals which take such pleasure in eating the 
tender roots of corn and other growing plants. 
These fellows are to be found carefully hidden 
from sight in their underground tunnels and gal¬ 
leries, and Mrs. Tiphia seems to know instinc¬ 
tively where they are placed. She runs along on 
the ground, tapping and listening, and presently 
begins to dig at a great rate.” 
“See!” Tommy pointed. “Here is a black 
waspish creature digging for dear life! Reminds 
