In this double cemetery, inside and outside the burrow, the three classes of the population are represented promiscuously. The neuters are the most numerous; next come the males. That these should disappear is quite natural; their part is played. But the future mothers, the females with flanks rich in eggs, these also perish. Fortunately the Wasps’-nest is not yet entirely deserted. Through a rent I can see a swarm amply sufficient for my plans. We will take the nest away with us and arrange matters for an observation which will last some time and which can be conducted leisurely at home. The nest will be more convenient to watch if dismembered. Cutting the connecting pillars, I separate the shelves of combs and stack them afresh, giving them a wide fragment of the wrapper as a roof. The Wasps are then re-established in their dwelling, but in limited numbers, to avoid the confusion of a crowd. I keep the more able-bodied and reject the others. The females, the chief object of my examination, are not far from a hundred strong. Peaceable now and half-numbed, the population of the nest may safely be subjected to this sifting and shifting. Tweezers are all that I need. The whole nest, installed in a large earthen pan, is covered with a wire-gauze dome. We have only to follow events day by day. Two factors of decay seem to play a leading part when the Wasps’-nest is depopulated on the advent of the bad weather: hunger and cold. In the winter there is no more provender, no more sweet fruit, the Wasps’ principal food. Lastly, notwithstanding their underground shelter, the frost puts an end to the starved creatures. Is this really what happens? We shall see. The pan containing the Wasps is in my study, where a fire is lit daily in winter, partly for my benefit and partly for that of my insects. It never freezes there; and the sun shines into the room for the greater part of the day. In this mild retreat the risks of depopulation by cold are eliminated. Nor is there any fear of famine. Under the wire cover is a saucer filled with honey; grape-pips, furnished by my last bunches kept on the straw, vary the diet. With such provisions as these, if any deaths occur among the swarm, starvation will not be responsible. Matters being thus arranged, all goes fairly well in the beginning. After hiding between the combs at night, the Wasps come out when the sun shines on the wire cover. They emerge into the light and stand in it, pressed closely one against the other. Presently they become more animated: they climb to the wire roof, move idly to and fro, descend and quench their appetite at the pool of honey or at the grape-pips. The neuters take to flight, wheel round, cluster on the trelliswork; the bravely-horned males curl their antennæ with quite a sprightly air; the heavier females take no part in these diversions.