22 
UNDER THE PLANTAIN LEAF 
“That is true,” assented the bee 
and the wasp together. 
“But with me it is different. In 
my work I have no use for wings. 
They would only be in my way if 
I had them.” 
“But do you never wish for wings?” 
asked the wasp. 
“I was foolish enough to do so 
when I was a very young ant. But 
I soon discovered that, after the one 
short and merry dance of the winged 
ants in the air, the males drop dead, 
and the females crawl away into 
dark places, and rub off their shining 
wings, forever after staying at home 
in the dark, doing nothing but laying 
eggs. Then I was very well satisfied 
to be a worker and have no wings.” 
