der the
immediate rays of the sun, in well-sheltered nooks, the hatching would
occur a month earlier, as we can see from the mixed population of the
snowy almond-tree. The constant shade in my study has delayed the
awakening, without, however, making any change in the nesting-period,
which synchronizes with the flowering of the thyme. We now have, around
my working-table, my books, my jars and my various appliances, a
buzzing crowd that goes in and out of the windows at every moment. I
enjoin the household henceforth not to touch a thing in the insects'
laboratory, to do no more sweeping, no more dusting. They might disturb
a swarm and make it think that my hospitality was not to be trusted.
During four or five weeks I witness the work of a number of Osmiae
which is much too large to allow my watching their individual
operations. I content myself with a few, whom I mark with
different-coloured spots to distinguish them; and I take no notice of
the others, whose finished work will have my attention later.

The first to appear are the males. If the sun is bright, they flutter
around the heap of tubes as if to take careful note of the locality;
blows are exchanged and the rival swains indulge in mild skirmishing on
the floor, then shake the dust off their wings. They fly assiduously
from tube to tube, placing their heads in the orifices to see if some
female will at last make up her mind to emerge.

One does, in point of fact. She is covered with dust and has the
disordered toilet that is inseparable from the hard work of the
deliverance. A lover has seen her, so has a second, likewise a third.
All crowd round her. The lady responds to their advances by clashing
her mandibles, which open and shut rapidly, several times in
succession. The suitors forthwith fall back; and they also, no doubt to
keep up their dignity, execute savage mandibular grimaces. Then the
beauty retires into the arbour and her wooers resume their places on
the threshold. A fresh appearance of the female, who repeats the play
with her jaws; a fresh retreat of the males, who do the best they can
to flourish their own pincers. The Osmiae have a strange way of
declaring their passion: with that fearsome gnashing of their
mandibles, the lovers look as though they meant to devour each other.
It suggests the thumps affected by our yokels in their moments of
gallantry.

The ingenuous idyll is soon over. The females, who grow more numerous
from day to day,