ant of Africa--a terror to the natives, though in some respects
his good friend--down to the little red-and-yellow meadow ants so common
among us. The ants I have told you about, the Rufians and the Fuscans,
are natives of America, and are found in New England. The big black ant
so common here, sometimes called the jet ant, is a carpenter and a
wood-carver. His great jaws bore through the hardest wood, and his
pretty galleries and winding staircases penetrate through the beams and
rafters of many an old mansion. Not long ago I accidentally killed a
carpenter ant, and in a few minutes a comrade appeared who slowly, and
apparently with great labor and fatigue, bore away the body. I felt as
though I were looking on at a funeral.

"I wish I had time to tell you about the agricultural ant of Texas, and
the umbrella ants of Florida, who cut bits of leaf from the orange-trees
and march home with them in procession, holding each leaf in an upright
position. Fancy how odd they must look! But we have talked long enough
for this time about the little people, and I am sure you all agree with
King Solomon that they are 'exceeding wise.'"

"I never will step on an ant-hill again if I can possibly help it," said
Susie. "It's too bad to make those hard-working folks so much trouble.

"And I mean to put my ear close down to the ground," said Nellie Dimock,
"and listen and listen, so as to hear the ants talk to each other."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE STORY OF OLD STAR.

"Say, Sam!" said Roy Tyler, as the two boys were driving old Brindle
home from pasture the next evening, "don't you wish she'd tell us some
stories about horses? I'm tired of hearing about cats and ants."

"Well, I don't know," Sammy answered; "'twas funny about old Robber
Grim. There's just such an old cat round our barn, catchin' chickens and
suckin' eggs. I've fired more rocks at that feller--hit him once in the
hind leg an' he went off limpin'."

"Well, I want a horse story, and I know she'd just as soon tell one as
not, if somebody would only ask her. Those girls will be wantin'
another cat story if we don't start something else. Girls always do like
cats," said Roy, a little scornfully. "Say, Sam, you ask her, will you?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know. I tried to yesterday, but somehow I couldn't get it
out."

"Well, I'll tell you what I will do," said good-natured Sammy. "You come
round to-night after I get my chores done up, an