first. The most fruitful of all produced
three; of these the two first were of normal dimensions, while the third
was about half the usual size.

From this we can reckon the productivity of the insect's ovaries. From
the transverse fissures of the median zone of the nest it is easy to
estimate the layers of eggs; but these layers contain more or fewer eggs
according to their position in the middle of the nest or near the ends.
The numbers contained by the widest and narrowest layers will give us
an approximate average. I find that a nest of fair size contains about
four hundred eggs. Thus the maker of the three nests, of which the last
was half as large as the others, produced no less than a thousand eggs;
eight hundred were deposited in the larger nests and two or three
hundred in the smaller. Truly a fine family, but a thought ungainly,
were it not that only a few of its members can survive.

Of a fair size, of curious structure, and well in evidence on its twig
or stone, the nest of the Praying Mantis could hardly escape the
attention of the Provencal peasant. It is well known in the country
districts, where it goes by the name of _tigno_; it even enjoys a
certain celebrity. But no one seems to be aware of its origin. It is
always a surprise to my rustic neighbours when they learn that the
well-known _tigno_ is the nest of the common Mantis, the _Prego-Dieu_.
This ignorance may well proceed from the nocturnal habits of the Mantis.
No one has caught the insect at work upon her nest in the silence of the
night. The link between the artificer and the work is missing, although
both are well known to the villager.

No matter: the singular object exists; it catches the eye, it attracts
attention. It must therefore be good for something; it must possess
virtue of some kind. So in all ages have the simple reasoned, in the
childlike hope of finding in the unfamiliar an alleviation of their
sorrows.

By general agreement the rural pharmacopoeia of Provence pronounces
the _tigno_ to be the best of remedies against chilblains. The method of
employment is of the simplest. The nest is cut in two, squeezed and the
affected part is rubbed with the cut surface as the juices flow from
it. This specific, I am told, is sovereign. All sufferers from blue and
swollen fingers should without fail, according to traditional usage,
have recourse to the _tigno_.

Is it really efficacious? Despite the general belief, I venture to doubt
it,