was masoning will mason. On the aperture of the honey-store she lays a
first course of mortar, followed by another and yet another, until at
last the cell is a third taller then the regulation height. The
masonry-task is now done, not as perfectly, it is true, as if the Bee
had gone on with the cell whose foundations she was laying at the
moment when I exchanged the nests, but still to an extent which is
more than enough to prove the overpowering impulse which the builder
obeys. Next comes the victualling, which is also cut short, lest the
honey-store swelled by the joint contributions of the two Bees should
overflow. Thus the Mason-bee who is beginning to build and to whom we
give a complete cell, a cell filled with honey, makes no change in the
order of her work: she builds first and then victuals. Only she
shortens her work, her instinct warning her that the height of the
cell and the quantity of honey are beginning to assume extravagant
proportions.

The converse is equally conclusive. To a Mason-bee engaged in
victualling I give a nest with a cell only just begun and not at all
fit to receive the paste. This cell, with its last course still wet
with its builder's saliva, may or may not be accompanied by other
cells recently closed up, each with its honey and its egg. The Bee,
finding this in the place of her half-filled honey-store, is greatly
perplexed what to do when she comes with her harvest to this
unfinished, shallow cup, in which there is no place to put the honey.
She inspects it, measures it with her eyes, tries it with her antennae
and recognizes its insufficient capacity. She hesitates for a long
time, goes away, comes back, flies away again and soon returns, eager
to deposit her treasure. The insect's embarrassment is most evident;
and I cannot help saying, inwardly: