urprised at her carpentering.

The Anthophorae, those children of the precipitous earthy banks, show
the same thrifty spirit as the other members of the mining corporation.
Three species, A. parietina, A. personata and A. pilipes, dig long
corridors leading to the cells, which are scattered here and there and
one by one. These passages remain open at all seasons of the year. When
spring comes, the new colony uses them just as they are, provided
that they are well preserved in the clayey mass baked by the sun; it
increases their length if necessary, runs out a few more branches, but
does not decide to start boring in new ground until the old city, which,
with its many labyrinths, resembles some monstrous sponge, is too much
undermined for safety. The oval niches, the cells that open on those
corridors, are also profitably employed. The Anthophora restores their
entrance, which has been destroyed by the insect's recent emergence;
she smooths their walls with a fresh coat of whitewash, after which the
lodging is fit to receive the heap of honey and the egg. When the old
cells, insufficient in number and moreover partly inhabited by diverse
intruders, are all occupied, the boring of new cells begins, in the
extended sections of the galleries, and the rest of the eggs are housed.
In this way, the swarm is settled at a minimum of expense.

To conclude this brief account, let us change the zoological setting
and, as we have already spoken of the Sparrow, see what he can do as a
builder. The simplest form of his nest is the great round ball of straw,
dead leaves and feathers, in the fork of a few branches. It is costly in
material, but can be set up anywhere, when the hole in the wall or the
shelter of a tile are lacking. What reasons induced him to give up the
spherical edifice? To all seeming, the same reasons that led the
Osmia to abandon the Snail-shell's spiral, which requires a fatiguing
expenditure of clay, in favour of the economical cylinder of the reed.
By making his home in a hole in the wall, the Sparrow escapes the
greater part of his work. Here, the dome that serves as a protection
from the rain and the thick walls that offer resistance to the wind both
become superfluous. A mere mattress is sufficient; the cavity in the
wall provides the rest. The saving is great; and the Sparrow appreciates
it quite as much as the Osmia.

This does not mean that the primitive art has disappeared, lost through
neglect; it remai