"I now remember watching a Wasp during my travels, that behaved in a very curious manner," said the Cricket. "It alighted upon a wood-pile, and gnawed off a quantity of fibres, which were kneaded together carefully into a ball; and then the Wasp flew away with the ball to a hole near by. I did not dare ask any questions; because I feared receiving a sting for my curiosity, and I have heard such a wound is most painful."
"Ah! that is always the way," said the other in an aggrieved tone. "We are thought by man to be good for nothing but to steal sugar, or other sweets; and gnaw holes in fruit, to disfigure the ripe beauty of peaches, plums, and apricots. We are called lazy fellows, going about to give any one a sharp thrust; when in reality a sting often causes death, by tearing the poison-bag. This belief is partly true; still not altogether, for we are also of some good in the world. We do not live solely upon the juices of flowers and fruits: we are very fond of the hosts of flies that swarm about and render themselves so annoying in the summer season. For instance, if you notice the pigs in the farm-yard any warm day, you will observe that the flies cluster thickly over their skins, tormenting the poor animals terribly. This torment is greatly lessened by the wasps, who skim over the fence every now and then, and capture a fly inevitably in their fatal grasp."
"Is it possible!" exclaimed the Teapot.
"Yes, indeed," returned the Wasp complacently. "But I must tell you how I was born. The Wasp you saw on the wood-pile was selecting a home, like a careful matron, and was bundling the fibres together to use in the construction of her nest. This she was obliged to do without any help whatever, for all the other wasps had died the previous autumn, while she was left to sleep through the winter in some warm nook, then found a new colony in the spring. Having brought the fibres to her burrow, she runs up the side of the chamber, clinging to the roof with the last pair of legs, while with the first pair aided by the jaws, she fixes the woody pulp to the roof, forming a little pillar. Other pellets are attached, until this pillar, like a stalactite in a cave, is completed. At the end of the pillar she places three very shallow cups, lays an egg in each, and makes a roof over them. More cells are then added, eggs laid in them, and the roof extended over the whole. By the time all this is done, the eggs laid in the first three cells are hatched into tiny grubs, who are terribly hungry, requiring ever so many flies from the mother Wasp. At last they cease to feed; spin a silken cover over their cells; and, after spending a short time in this retirement, tear away the covering with their jaws, emerging perfect insects.
"They now repay the mother Wasp for her care, by assisting in all heavy labors, so that she really has little to do, but lay eggs as fast as cells can be made for their accommodation. Before long the first terrace is completely filled with cells, and more room is needed. The wasps next construct several more pillars exactly like the first one; and, by adding cells to these, another terrace is built below the first one. Three or four more terraces continue to form, the cells of these last being so small, that the mother Wasp cannot put her head into them. The inmates of these cradles are very much smaller than their parent, and are known as the workers, their lives being devoted to labor. These workers make excellent nurses, always feeding and tending the baby wasps with jealous care. Towards the close of the summer their conduct changes, however; they feel that a quick death for those nurslings who will not have time to grow up before cold weather is best, so they pull the helpless white things out of their beds, and carry them outside to die. I am glad I was able to grow to wasphood."
"Please raise your voice a trifle," said the Saucepan, in a vexed tone. "I cannot hear half that you say, over there."
"You had better use an ear-trumpet," remarked the Wasp impertinently. "I am already as hoarse as a raven from shouting so loudly."
"When the nest is abandoned the workers die; and so do almost all of the others, save a few of the females."
"How is it that you are alive, then?" interrupted the Teapot.
"One thing at a time, if you please," said the Wasp pettishly; "I am telling you as fast as ever I can. When I first spread my wings to fly out into the warm, bright sunshine, I was half-wild with delight at my new strength and beauty. The world seemed such a wonderful place! The air was so fresh, the flowers so fragrant and varied in coloring, and the hills so grand in height, that I could only flutter from place to place, bewildered with happiness. I alighted finally upon a catalpa-tree, whose branches were covered with splendid blossoms."