"Yes, it is so: but there are bridges much harder to build than our little wooden one here. Some are built of stone, and it takes years to finish them. None but a good workman can plan and build a good stone bridge: but I know a little fellow that can make as good a bridge as anybody; and yet no man ever taught him the trade."
"Ah! now we know what is coming. You are going to tell us of a dumb animal that can make a bridge."
"Yes, I am: and a small animal it is, too, for it is an ant."
"What sort of an ant is it?"
"It is called the white ant; and as there is a great deal that is very curious about this insect. I think that I had better tell you all about it at once."
"Pray do, Uncle Philip; you know you promised to tell us about ants."
"True, boys; and I like to keep my promises. In my story about these ants, I think, if you attend, you will find more tools; and besides that, you will hear of a great many things which man makes, and which show matters quite as strange as any of which I have yet told you."
"What are they, Uncle Philip?"
"They are the building of something like a city, and bridges, and stairs, and roads, and tunnels under ground, and—"