of a colony of black hornets that established themselves under one
of the projecting gables of my house. This hornet has the
reputation of being a very ugly customer, but I found it no trouble
to live on the most friendly terms with her. She was as little
disposed to quarrel as I was. She is indeed the eagle among
hornets, and very noble and dignified in her bearing. She used to
come freely into the house and prey upon the flies. You would hear
that deep, mellow hum, and see the black falcon poising on wing, or
striking here and there at the flies, that scattered on her
approach like chickens before a hawk. When she had caught one, she
would alight upon some object and proceed to dress and draw her
game. The wings were sheared off, the legs cut away, the bristles
trimmed, then the body thoroughly bruised and broken. When the work
was completed, the fly was rolled up into a small pellet, and with
it under her arm the hornet flew to her nest, where no doubt in due
time it was properly served up on the royal board. Every dinner
inside these paper walls is a state dinner, for the queen is always
present.

I used to mount the ladder to within two or three feet of the nest
and observe the proceedings. I at first thought the workshop must
be inside,--a place where the pulp was mixed, and perhaps treated
with chemicals; for each hornet, when she came with her burden of
materials, passed into the nest, and then, after a few moments,
emerged again and crawled to the place of building. But I one day
stopped up the entrance with some cotton, when no one happened to
be on guard, and then observed that, when the loaded hornet could
not get inside, she, after some deliberation, proceeded to the
unfinished part and went forward with her work. Hence I inferred
that maybe the hornet went inside to report and to receive orders,