d
methodically in order to polish it.

This final glazing, so exquisite in its perfection, is preceded by a
trimming-process. In the cells that are not yet stocked with provisions,
the walls are dotted with tiny dents like those in a thimble. Here we
recognize the work of the mandibles, which squeeze the clay with their
tips, compress it and purge it of any grains of sand. The result is a
milled surface whereon the polished layer will find a solid adhesive
base. This layer is obtained with a fine clay, very carefully selected
by the insect, purified, softened and then applied atom by atom, after
which the trowel of the tongue steps in, diapering and polishing, while
saliva, disgorged as needed, gives pliancy to the paste and finally
dries into a waterproof varnish.

The humidity of the subsoil, at the time of the spring showers, would
reduce the little earthen alcove to a sort of pap. The coating of saliva
is an excellent preservative against this danger. It is so delicate
that we suspect rather than see it; but its efficacy is none the less
evident. I fill a cell with water. The liquid remains in it quite well,
without any trace of infiltration.

The tiny pitcher looks as if it were varnished with galenite. The
impermeability which the potter obtains by the brutal infusion of his
mineral ingredients the Halictus achieves with the soft polisher of her
tongue moistened with saliva. Thus protected, the larva will enjoy all
the advantages of a dry berth, even in rain-soaked ground.

Should the wish seize us, it is easy to detach the waterproof film, at
least in shreds. Take the little shapeless lump in which a cell has been
excavated and put it in sufficient water to cover the bottom of it. The
whole earthy mass will soon be soaked and reduced to a mud which we are
able to sweep with the point of a hair-pencil. Let us have patience and
do our sweeping gently; and we shall be able to separate from the main
body the fragments of a sort of extremely fine satin. This transparent,
colourless material is the upholstery that keeps out the wet. The
Spider's web, if it formed a stuff and not a net, is the only thing that
could be compared with it.

The Halictus' nurseries are, as we see, structures that take much time
in the making. The insect first digs in the clayey earth a recess with
an oval curve to it. It has its mandibles for a pick-axe and its tarsi,
armed with tiny claws, for rakes. Rough though it be, this early work