The way being thus prepared, she hurries back with her wings quivering and her whole manner betokening joyful triumph at the completion of her task. We, in the mean time, have become as much excited over the matter as she is herself. She picks up the caterpillar, brings it to the mouth of the burrow, and lays it down. Then, backing in herself, she catches it in her mandibles and drags it out of sight, leaving us full of admiration and delight. How clear and accurate must be the observing powers of these wonderful little creatures! Every patch of ground must, for them, have its own character; a pebble here, a larger stone there, a trifling tuft of grass—these must be their landmarks. And the wonder of it is that their interest in each nest is so temporary. A burrow is dug, provisioned and closed up, all in two or three days, and then another is made in a new place with everything to learn over again. From this time on to the first of September our garden was full of these wasps, and they never lost their fascination for us; although, owing to a decided difference between their taste and ours as to what constituted pleasant weather, all our knowledge of them was gained by the sweat of our brows. When we wished to utilize the cool hours of the morning or of the late afternoon in studying them, or thought to take advantage of a cloud which cast a grateful shade over the sun at noonday, where were our Ammophiles? Out of sight entirely, or at best only to be seen idling about on the flowers of the onion or sorrel. At such a time they seemed to have no mission in life and no idea of duty. But when the air was clear and bright and the mercury rose higher and higher, all was changed. Their favorite working hours were from eleven in the morning to three in the afternoon, and when they did work they threw their whole souls into it. It was well that it was so, for they certainly needed all the enthusiasm and perseverance that they could muster for such wearisome and disappointing labor. Hour after hour was passed in search, and often there was nothing to show at the end of it. Urnaria hunted on bare ground, on the purslain, and most of all on the bean–plants. These were examined carefully, the wasp going up and down the stems and looking under every leaf; but the search was so frequently unsuccessful that in estimating their work we are inclined to think that they can scarcely average one caterpillar a day.