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136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
87
Here
is
a
pretty
little
yellow
and
black
banded
flower-fly,
which
is
having
a
quiet
little
picnic
all
by
himself
on
a
bed
of
yarrow
bloom
close
by.
But
a
big
black
paper-hornet
has
suddenly
seen
an
attraction
hither
also,
and
is
soon
creeping
stealthily
among
the
blossoms
with
a
wild
and
hungry
look.
But
the
hornets
seemed
to
waste
their
time
on
the
flies.
Seemingly
confident
in
their
less
complicated
wing
machinery,
the
two-winged
fly
rarely
sought
escape
until
within
very
close
range
of
his
enemy,
and
his
resources
never
seemed
to
disappoint
him
at
the
critical
moment.
Among
the
insect
assemblage
was
a
large
number
of
ants
of
all
kinds
and
sizes,
the
common
large
black
species
being
conspicuous.
Here
is
one
creeping
and
sipping
along
a
grass
stem.
A
small
digger-wasp
likes
this
grass
stem
too,
but
instead
of
exchanging
courtesies
on
the
subject,
the
wasp
proceeds
to
bite
the
ant's
head
off
without
ceremony,
and
continues
sipping
at
the
stem
as
though
decapitation
were
a
mere
casual
incident
in
its
daily
walk.
On
the
same
stem
a
big
blowfly
has
alighted.
Judging
from
appearances,
he
has
had
his
fill
of
good
things,
and
is
now
making
his
leisurely
toilet
in
the
peculiar
fashion
of
his
kind,
rubbing
down
his
back
and
wings
with
his
hind
legs,
twisting
his
front
feet
into
spirals,
and
ever
and
anon
testing
the
strength
of
his
elastic
neck
attachment
as
he
threatens
to
pull
his
head
from
his
body.
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