That the males do not always stay on in their ancestral home is shown by an observation that we made on the only occasion that we ever saw this species in our garden. Nothing was stirring at half past three o’clock in the afternoon, and we had given up work and started for home, when, in going up an inclined part of the field, we noticed something in motion within a ragged–edged hole which ran obliquely into the ground. It seemed strange that a wasp should be beginning its nest at so late an hour; but a wasp it was, as we could plainly see when we took an attitude sufficiently humble. It was loosening the earth with its mandibles, and then pushing it backward with its hind legs and abdomen. We had scarcely settled down to watching it when a second one of the same species appeared, and with a good deal of fuss and flutter began to dig its hole close by. The spot chosen by this second one proved unsatisfactory, and another beginning was made in a new place. Again something was wrong, nor was a third choice any better. At last, however, the work was started in earnest, and might have been carried to a conclusion if we had not caught the little creature to satisfy a suspicion that had been growing in our minds. Yes, we were right. The worker was not a female making a nest for the rearing of her young, but a male punctatus, preparing a shelter for the night. In the mean time the first wasp had pushed back such a quantity of earth that the hole was entirely closed, but every few minutes he came backing out to clear the way. At the end of half an hour all became quiet. The door remained closed, and doubtless the wasp was fast asleep. Putting a blade of grass and then an inverted tumbler over the nest, we left him for the night. On removing the glass at half past seven the next morning, we found the nest open but the wasp not visible. At half past eight the head appeared just inside the hole, the long antennæ twitching now to this side, now to that, as if an inspection were being made. Soon the head came out. The wasp stood for some minutes making a survey, looking to right and left with lively jerks of the body. Then, apparently concluding that the day was not far enough advanced, he came out, whirled around, and ran head–first into the nest. He probably took another nap, for all was quiet until just before ten o’clock, when the antennæ appeared again. The survey was taken as before, first from within and then with the head in view. At last he flew out, and making three circles, each one wider than the last, about the place, flew away. He stayed out all day, and had not returned at half past three in the afternoon; but on going down at half past four we found that he had gone in and closed the door from below.