Now a good father is rarely seen except among the higher animals. The bird is excellent in this respect, and the furred folk perform their duties honourably. Lower in the scale of living creatures the father is generally indifferent to his family. Very few insects are exceptions to this rule. This heartlessness, which would be detestable in the higher ranks of the animal kingdom, where the weakness of the young demands prolonged care, is excusable among insect fathers. For the robustness of the new-born insect enables it to gather its food unaided, provided it be in a suitable place. When all that the Pieris need do for the safety of the race is to lay her eggs on the leaves of a cabbage, of what use would a father’s care be? The mother’s botanical instinct needs no assistance. At laying-time the other parent would be in the way. Most insects adopt this simple method of upbringing. They merely choose a dining-room which will be the home of the family once it is hatched, or else a place that will allow the young ones to find suitable fare for themselves. There is no need for the father in such cases. He generally dies without lending the least assistance in the work of setting up his offspring in life. Things do not always happen, however, in quite such a primitive fashion. There are tribes that provide a dowry for their families, that prepare board and lodging for them in advance. The Bees and Wasps in particular are masters in the industry of making cellars, jars, and satchels, in which the ration of honey is hoarded: they are perfect in the art of creating burrows stocked with the game that forms the food of their grubs. Well, this enormous labour, which is one of building and provisioning combined, this toil in which the insect’s whole life is spent, is done by the mother alone. It wears her out; it utterly exhausts her. The father drunk with sunlight, stands idle at the edge of the workyard, watching his plucky helpmate at her job. Why does he not lend the mother a helping hand? It is now or never. Why does he not follow the example of the Swallow couple, both of whom bring their bit of straw, their blob of mortar to the building and their Midge to the young ones? He does nothing of the kind. Possibly he puts forward his comparative weakness as an excuse. It is a poor argument; for to cut a disk out of a leaf, to scrape some cotton from a downy plant, to collect a little bit of cement in muddy places would not overtax his strength. He could very easily help, at any rate as a labourer; he is quite fit to gather materials for the mother, with her greater intelligence, to fit in place. The real reason of his inactivity is sheer incapability.