Under the Plantain Leaf 
Chapter I 
RELATIVES 
Tt was a warm day in August; the 
leaves hung lazily in the air, the 
birds had ceased singing, and every 
living thing seemed resting. Even a 
little brown ant, which had been 
running briskly to and fro since the 
rising of the sun, stopped at last 
under a big plantain leaf, and 
stretched her six tired little legs. 
“How do you do?” said a voice near 
her, and, turning about, she saw a 
handsome young wasp, folding its 
