r of usurpation, for it is not rare to see the
Chalicodoma of the Sheds clearing out old cells and using them as does
her sister of the Pebbles. Be this as it may, all this little busy world
lives without strife, some building anew, others dividing up the old
dwelling.

Those Osmiae, on the contrary, who are the self-invited guests of the
Mason-bee of the Pebbles are the sole occupants of the dome. The cause
of this isolation lies in the unsociable temper of the proprietress. The
old nest does not suit her from the moment that she sees it occupied
by another. Instead of going shares, she prefers to seek elsewhere a
dwelling where she can work in solitude. Her gracious surrender of a
most excellent lodging in favour of a stranger who would be incapable
of offering the least resistance if a dispute arose proves the great
immunity enjoyed by the Osmia in the home of the worker whom she
exploits. The common and peaceful swarming of the Mason-bee of the Sheds
and the two cell-borrowing Osmiae proves it in a still more positive
fashion. There is never a fight for the acquisition of another's goods
or the defence of one's own property; never a brawl between Osmiae and
Chalicodomae. Robber and robbed live on the most neighbourly terms. The
Osmia considers herself at home; and the other does nothing to undeceive
her. If the parasites, so deadly to the workers, move about in their
very ranks with impunity, without arousing the faintest excitement, an
equally complete indifference must be shown by the dispossessed owners
to the presence of the usurpers in their old homes. I should be greatly
put to it if I were asked to reconcile this calmness on the part of the
expropriated one with the ruthless competition that is said to sway the
world. Fashioned so as to instal herself in the Mason's property, the
Osmia meets with a peaceful reception from her. My feeble eyes can see
no further.

I have named the provision-thieves, the grub-murderers and the
house-grabbers who levy tribute on the Mason-bee. Does that end the
list? Not at all. The old nests are cities of the dead. They contain
Bees who, on achieving the perfect state, were unable to open the
exit-door through the cement and who withered in their cells; they
contain dead larvae, turned into black, brittle cylinders; untouched
provisions, both mouldy and fresh, on which the egg has come to grief;
tattered cocoons; shreds of skins; relics of the transformation.

If we remove th