The affairs of Ammophila must frequently go wrong, since in still another of our few examples we saw much trouble and labor wasted. The wasp, in this case an urnaria, captured her caterpillar successfully and proceeded to carry it off. She was far from being in a hurry, going along for a foot or so, and then making a long pause, during which she would lay it down and either circle above it, perhaps to take bearings, or spend the time in cleaning herself off, stroking and smoothing every part of her body with the utmost care and deliberation. Her stops were so frequent and so lengthy that nearly an hour was occupied in going about twenty–five feet. When, at last, the nest was reached, the plug was removed from the entrance and the caterpillar dragged in, but almost immediately the wasp came out backwards with the point of an egg projecting from the extremity of her abdomen. She ran around and around the nest in a distracted way four or five times and then went back, dragged the caterpillar out, and carried it away. The egg came out further and further, and finally dropped on the ground and was lost. The wasp, carrying the caterpillar, led us a long dance, in a great semicircle over the field, coming back to the nest at last. Instead of going in, however, she was about to start off on another tour when we took her prey from her and placed it in the nest. The wasp remained in the neighborhood for over an hour, but finally disappeared. The nest was not closed, and when we dug it up on the following day it contained only the caterpillar that we had put in. We could usually enter into the feelings of the Ammophiles and understand the meaning of their actions; but we were puzzled once, when we saw an urnaria that had stored her second caterpillar and closed her nest permanently, spend the rest of her morning in hunting. Why in hunting? She had not dug a nest, she could not lay another egg at once, she did not want a caterpillar, for when we offered her one she stung it and then left it lying on the ground. The sun was bright, the sorrel–blossoms invited her. Surely it would have been the part of a rational wasp to have passed the rest of the day in feasting and fun. We have said that urnaria stores two caterpillars, but this rule is not without its exception. It was on the last day of the summer that on a visit to our dear and fruitful potato field, we came upon a wasp of almost double the ordinary size, that made, when flying, a loud hum that at once attracted attention. She was just completing and closing her nest, and we determined to watch and see what kind of a victim she would bring in, as it seemed improbable that this great creature would content herself with the ordinary fare of the species. The opening to the nest measured half an inch in diameter.