You should then have seen their anxiety, and the presence of mind they exhibited. Conscious as of attack, and knowing the peril that beset them, they did not flee to their underground galleries, or to the adjoining grasses, for shelter, and thus leave their flocks to the mercy of the invader, but they manifested the deepest concern for the little creatures, so unable to defend themselves, that had so willingly catered to their temporal wants. Not an ant was seen to desert its post, but all remained on duty till the last of their protegés was carried to safe and comfortable apartments in the ground beneath. What clearer evidence is wanted to show the love these neuters bear the tender objects of their care? It must be plain that man bestows not half the attention upon his flocks than do these ants on theirs. It is true they do not bring them food, but that they build their homes where food, the roots of herbs and grasses, abound, there is no doubt. It may be, too, that they are carried to their pasture-grounds, when that necessity occurs, but this cannot with truth be said. When some would stray, they were returned within the fold, which shows the watch these ants do exercise. Concluding then, this much may be averred: food, wholesome, sweet, nutritious food, the aphides supply to ants, the neuters and the young, but specially the young. And that they lead most happy, prosperous lives, the ants their masters, must surely be, or looks deceive. LIVING ARTILLERY. No more remarkable creature exists, perhaps, than the little _Brachinus fumans_, which is so very common in the early spring. Damp situations are affected by it, but it is seldom met with except by insect-hunters, for it conceals itself generally under stones, as many as a half-dozen individuals often being found in company in a single locality. Banks of tidal rivers afford excellent hunting-grounds in England for Brachinus, but in America low, dank woods and borders of streams are the places where one must look to discover its presence. When once you have made the acquaintance of so remarkable a stranger you can never afterwards fail to recognize him in your travels. He is peculiar, but not at all distinguished in looks, as some of his brethren. Picture a yellowish-red beetle, with a bluish frock-coat, which his wing-covers resemble, and possessed of a short, narrow head, a heart-shaped prothorax, as the front of the chest-segments is called, and a long, broad abdomen, three times the size of the rest of his body, and you have a tolerably fair idea of Brachinus.