bees do not sting, or in any wise interfere with our comfort, save
by building on the books. The only ants who come into the house are
the minute, harmless, and most useful 'crazy ants,' who run up and
down wildly all day, till they find some eatable thing, an atom of
bread or a disabled cockroach, of which last, by the by, we have
seen hardly any here. They then prove themselves in their sound
senses by uniting to carry off their prey, some pulling, some
pushing, with a steady combination of effort which puts to shame an
average negro crew. And these are all we have to fear, unless it be
now and then a huge spider, which it is not the fashion here to
kill, as they feed on flies. So comfort yourself with the thought
that, as regards insect pests, we are quite as comfortable as in an
country-house, and infinitely more comfortable than in English
country-house, and infinitely more comfortable than in a Scotch
shooting lodge, let alone an Alpine chalet.

Lizards run about the walks in plenty, about the same size is the
green lizard of the South of Europe, but of more sober colours. The
parasol ants--of whom I could tell you much, save that you will read
far more than I can tell you in half a dozen books at home--walk in
triumphal processions, each with a bit of green leaf borne over its
head, and probably, when you look closely, with a little ant or two
riding on it, and getting a lift home after work on their stronger
sister's back--and these are all the monsters which you are likely
to meet.

Would that there were more birds to be seen and heard! But of late
years the free Negro, like the French peasant during the first half
of this century, has held it to be one of the indefeasible rights of
a free man to carry a rusty gun, and to shoot every winged thing.