My Studio NeighborsGibson, W. Hamilton (William Hamilton)
History
My Studio Neighbors
Gibson, W. Hamilton (William Hamilton)
Natural history; Natural history -- Outdoor books
Every now and then a big darning-needle took a shimmering circuit about
the bush, and doubtless knew what he was about; as did also what at
first glimpse appeared to be a big bumblebee, which seemed to find
attraction in the neighborhood, although he seldom alighted upon the
leaves, preferring to sit upon a neighboring weed and watch his
opportunities.
I have thus described a few of the more prominent guests or personages
present at the feast. But I have reported little of their "goings on."
Doubtless there were appropriate toasts and responses, or what in bug
etiquette answered to this seemingly indispensable human fad, while as
to that other festive social essential of after-dinner speeches, coupled
in this case with most vigorous discussion, I am certain the air was
blue with something of this sort, if the eloquent pantomime bore any
significance. Here, for instance, is one isolated, but frequent,
episode. A peaceable little group of plain bluebottle-flies, with but a
single thought, are all sipping at the same drop in contentment. A brief
respite, for now the tips of a pair of inquisitive antennae appear from
the under edge of the leaf upon which they are sipping, and gingerly
explore the upper surface. They are quickly followed by the covetous
almond-eyed gaze of a brown wasp, that now steals cautiously around to
the upper surface, and appears wholly engrossed in licking the leaf.
Nearer and nearer he sidles up to the group of flies, and now with
deliberate purpose and open jaws makes a dash among them. But they are
too quick for him, and are away in a glittering blue tangle, which
finally concentrates itself upon a neighboring leaf, where the eager
tippling is immediately resumed. The wasp now holds the fort, and seems
in no mood to be trifled with. With head and fore feet upraised and open
jaws he seems "spoiling for a fight," and ready to make war upon the
first comer. But no, he is evidently expecting a friend that, I now
observe, approaches him determinedly down the stem of the leaf. The
new-comer, a brown wasp like himself, is now at close range, and in an
instant more, without any visible courteous preliminaries, the two set
upon each other with a common enthusiasm, and with jaws working and
stings fencing the interlocked combatants fall to the ground for a
finish. I presume the affair was carried to the fourteenth round without
any undue interference.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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