Instead of a precise fact, really worthy of science, we have a riddle to read. Let us continue to examine the riddle. Different species of the Crabro family are so like the Social Wasps in size, in shape and in their black-and-yellow livery as to deceive any eye unversed in the delicate distinctions of entomology. To any one who has not made a special study of such subjects a Crabro is a Common Wasp. May it not have happened that the English observer, looking at things from a height and thinking unworthy of strict investigation the tiny fact which nevertheless was to corroborate his transcendental theories and help to bestow reason upon an animal, made a mistake in his turn, but one in the other direction and quite pardonable, by taking a Wasp for a Crabro? I would almost dare swear so; and here are my reasons. Wasps, if not always, at least often bring up their family on animal food; but, instead of accumulating a provision of game in each cell beforehand, they distribute the food to the larvæ, one by one and several times a day; they feed them with their mouths, as the father and mother feed young birds with their beaks. And the mouthful consists of a fine mash of chewed insects, ground between the mandibles of the Wasp nurse. The favourite insects for the preparation of this infants’ food are Diptera, especially Common Flies; when fresh meat can be had, it is a windfall eagerly turned to account. Who has not seen Wasps boldly enter our kitchens or pounce upon the meat hanging in the butchers’ shops, to cut off a scrap that suits them and carry it away forthwith, as spolia opima for the use of the grubs? When the half-closed shutters admit a streak of sunlight to the floor of a room, where the Housefly is taking a luxurious nap or polishing her wings, who has not seen the Wasp rush in, swoop down upon the Fly, crush her in her mandibles and make off with the booty? Once again, a morsel reserved for the carnivorous nurselings.