turns round, and with saliva from her mouth seals up the incision. Another egg is ascended, bored, and stored with an egg--and so on until the whole batch of twenty has been struck, and all chance of any psocid emerging utterly ruined. I kept the first batch of eggs which I had seen struck in October until the following year, when, as the warm days of April arrived, I carefully examined them, until one eventful day I observed one of the eggs had a tiny hole in it. On placing it under the microscope I saw a pair of mandibles busily at work nibbling away the eggshell, until at last the hole was large enough to admit of the head being thrust through. After many efforts the antennæ were freed, followed by the first pair of legs; then, with this additional leverage at command, the thorax was lifted out, the second pair of legs and part of the wings following, and after much apparently painful effort the third and last pair of legs was withdrawn, enabling the fairy to walk out, and to free those most exquisitely delicate wings without a hitch. Now, taking a firm grip on the empty eggshell, the fairy went through her toilet. Not a hair or spine escaped attention--each and every part of this microscopic marvel received the utmost attention; every hair forming the lovely marginal fringe was brushed out and arranged in exact order. The wings were raised several times to try them, and then away this atom of perfection flew. Since my first seeing the ovipositor of a fairy fly I have dissected many struck eggs, and in less than a minute had the germ (laid by the fairy fly) under my microscope, and watched it grow, and the cells divide again and again in such a marvelous manner that I have been lost in wonderment or simply overcome. Flesh and blood is not strong enough to carry on such watchings too long, but the fascination is so great that time after time have I watched the mysterious changes taking place--various organs being formed under my eyes--the active larva gradually losing all its activity until it appears in pupal form, and then new limbs and organs seem to be evolved from nothing at all. The next genus, Litus, is a peculiar one. Its one representative, Litus cynipseus, much resembles a flea in color and form. It is the only fairy fly that takes its time in walking. I have never seen it in a hurry, neither have I ever seen the male--and the female is not a plentiful species. Eustochus is distinguished by having a deeply marked suture across the club of the antennæ, and though Haliday mentions but one species, I have found over a dozen; in fact, of this genus I can always find specimens anywhere--on windows, in greenhouses, in railway carriages, besides sweeping them up from grass and all kinds of herbage. I have also seen and caught them flying, and have obtained many specimens from spiders’ webs.