Aporus fasciatus is a dark gray species, and is less than half an inch in length. We were working one hot day in the melon field, when we saw one of these little wasps going backward and dragging a female of Mævia vittata which was much larger than she was herself. She twice left it on the ground while she circled about for a moment, but soon carried it up on to one of the large melon leaves, and left it there while she made a long and careful study of the locality, skimming close to the ground in and out among the vines; at length she went under a leaf that lay close to the ground and began to dig. After her head was well down in the ground we broke off the leaf that we might see her method of work. She went on for ten minutes without noticing the change, and then, without any circling, flew off to visit her spider. When she tried to return to her hole it was evident that some landmark was missing. Again and again she zigzagged from the spider to the nesting–place, going by a regular path among the vines from leaf to leaf and from blossom to blossom, but when she reached the spot she did not recognize it. At last we laid the leaf back in its place over the opening, when she at once went in and resumed her work, keeping at it steadily for ten minutes longer. At this point she suddenly reversed her operations and began to fill the hole that she had made, kicking in the earth until the entrance was hidden. She then glanced at the spider, selected a new place, and began to dig again. Surprisingly large pellets of earth were carried out, backward, and loose dirt was kicked under the body by the first legs. At the end of two or three minutes she paused and remained perfectly still for a time, considering the situation. Her conclusion was adverse to the locality, for she soon filled in the hole, looked once more at the spider, and started a third nest in a new place. This in turn was soon abandoned, as was also a fourth. The fifth beginning was made under a leaf that lay close to the ground, so that we could not see her at all. Fasciatus! had we had the naming of her she should have gone down the ages as exasperans! We had now watched her for an hour in the intense heat; the bell for the noonday meal had sounded, hunger and thirst had descended upon us, and most devoutly did we hope that she was suited at last, but no—after twenty minutes’ work this place also was abandoned, and a sixth nest started. This, however, was the final choice, and after forty–five minutes spent in digging, it was completed. As the spider was brought toward the nest it was left again and again while the nervous little wasp flew to the hole, went in, examined, and came out again. At last she backed in, caught the spider by the abdomen, and dragged it down. It was too big—the head stuck in the hole; but she pulled from below while we pushed gently from above, and it slowly disappeared. When she came out we opened the nest and took the spider. The egg was fastened