as well as notorious human, social, and civic
customs find their prehistoric prototypes in the insect kingdom. The
monarchical institution sees its singular prophecy in the domestic
economy of the bees. War and slavery have always been carried on
systematically and effectually by ants, and, according to Huber and
other authorities, agriculture, gardening, and an industry very like
dairy farming have been time-honored customs among this same wise and
thrifty insect tribe, whose claims to thoughtful consideration were so
long ago voiced by Solomon of proverbial fame. Thevenot mentions
"Solomon's ant" as among the "beasts which shall enter paradise."
Indeed, the human saint as well as sluggard may "go to the ant" for many
suggestive hints and commentaries.

These are only a few of the more notable parallelisms which suggest
themselves. But others are not wanting if we care to follow the subject.
In addition to the many models of thrift and virtuous industry,
embodying types of many of the trade employments known to humanity, have
we not also among these "meadow tribes" our luxurious "idlers" and
"exquisites," the butterflies and flower-haunting flies and "dandy"
beetles; and, opposed to all these, the suggestive antithesis of the
promiscuous marauders, thieves, and brigands everywhere interspersed?

Thus we have our individual insect assassin and assassination organized
in war; so, on the other hand, have we our insect merrymakers; why not,
then, our picnic or carnival?

Such I am moved to call the singular episode which I observed last
summer, and which I have endeavored to picture as true to the life as
possible in the accompanying presentment The sceptic will perhaps
remark on examination that the scene is characterized by somewhat too
free a license to warrant the ideal of a "picnic." But he is
hypercritical. There are picnics and picnics--picnics of high and of low
degree. Do I not recall more than one notorious festive outing of the
"next lower than the angels" in which the _personnel_ seemed about
similarly proportioned, and the fun and attraction comparatively related
to the license?

One July afternoon a year ago I was returning home from one of my
botanizing strolls. I had just emerged from a deep wood, and was
skirting its border, when my attention was caught by a small fluttering
swarm of butterflies, which started up at my approach and hovered about
a blossoming blackberry bush a few yards in advance of m