aturalist, experimented with one of these wasps, as
follows: While the wasp was in its den he moved its grasshopper a few
inches away. The wasp came out, brought it to the opening as before,
and went within a second time; again the game was removed, again the
wasp came out and brought it back and entered her nest as before. This
little comedy was repeated over and over; each time the wasp felt
compelled to enter her hole before dragging in the grasshopper. She
was like a machine that would work that way and no other. Step must
follow step in just such order. Any interruption of the regular method
and she must begin over again. This is instinct, and the incident
shows how widely it differs from conscious intelligence.

If you have a tame chipmunk, turn him loose in an empty room and give
him some nuts. Finding no place to hide them, he will doubtless carry
them into a corner and pretend to cover them up. You will see his paws
move quickly about them for an instant as if in the act of pulling
leaves or mould over them. His machine, too, must work in that way.
After the nuts have been laid down, the next thing in order is to
cover them, and he makes the motions all in due form. Intelligence
would have omitted this useless act.

A canary-bird in its cage will go through all the motions of taking a
bath in front of the cup that holds its drinking-water when it can
only dip its bill into the liquid. The sight or touch of the water
excites it and sets it going, and with now and then a drop thrown from
its beak it will keep up the flirting and fluttering motion of its
tail and wings precisely as if taking a real instead of an imaginary
bath.

Attempt to thwart the nesting-instinct in a bird and see how
persistent it is, and how blind! One spring a pair of English sparrows
tried to build a nest on the plate that upholds the roof of my porch.
They were apparently attracted by an opening about an inch wide in the
top of the plate, that ran the whole length of it. The pair were busy
nearly the whole month of April in carrying nesting-material to
various points on that plate. That big crack or opening which was not
large enough to admit their bodies seemed to have a powerful
fascination for them. They carried straws and weed stalks and filled
up one portion of it, and then another and another, till the crack was
packed with rubbish from one end of the porch to the other, and the
indignant broom of the housekeeper grew tired of sw