The other Mantidæ of my neighbourhood, the only ones of whom I can speak with full knowledge, use the non-conducting wrapper of solidified foam or do without it, according as the eggs are destined to live through the winter or not. The little Grey Mantis, who differs so greatly from the other owing to the almost entire absence of wings in the female, builds a nest not quite so big as a cherry-stone and covers it very cleverly with a rind of froth. Why this beaten-up envelope? Because the nest of the Grey Mantis, like that of the Praying Mantis, has to last through the winter, exposed on its bough or stone to all the dangers of the bad weather. On the other hand, in spite of her size, which is equal to that of the Praying Mantis, Empusa pauperata, who is the most curious of our insects, builds a nest as small as that of the Grey Mantis. It is a very modest edifice, consisting of a small number of cells set side by side in three or four rows joined together. Here there is no frothy envelope at all, though the nest, like those mentioned above, is fixed in an exposed situation on some twig or broken stone. This absence of a non-conducting mattress points to a difference in climatic conditions. The Empusa’s eggs, in fact, hatch soon after they are laid, during the fine weather. Not having to undergo the inclemencies of winter, they have no protection but the slender sheath of their cases. Are these scrupulous and rational precautions, which rival Rumford’s omelette soufflée, a casual result, one of those numberless combinations turned out by the wheel of fortune? If so, let us not shrink from any absurdity, but recognize straightway that the blindness of chance is endowed with marvellous foresight. The blunt end of the nest is the first part built by the Praying Mantis and the tapering end the last. The latter is often prolonged into a sort of spur made by drawing out the final drop of albuminous fluid used. To complete the whole thing demands about two hours of concentrated work, free from interruption. As soon as the laying is finished, the mother withdraws, callously. I expected to see her return and display some tender feeling for the cradle of her family. But there is not the least sign of maternal joy. The work is done and possesses no further interest for her. Some Locusts have come up. One even perches on the nest. The Mantis pays no attention to the intruders. They are peaceful, it is true. Would she drive them away if they were dangerous and if they looked like ripping open the egg-casket? Her impassive behaviour answers no. What is the nest to her henceforth? She knows it no more.