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136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
88
This
worldly
act
has
been
progressing
for
some
moments
under
the
gaze
of
a
big
black
digger-wasp,
who
now
concludes
to
cut
it
short.
When
at
close
range
with
his
prey,
the
fly
suddenly
discovers
the
unhealthy
location
which
he
occupies,
and
actually
protruding
his
tongue
by
way
of
parting
salute,
he
is
off
with
a
buzz.
He
has
barely
taken
wing,
however,
when
a
still
louder
buzz
is
heard,
while
a
great
black
bumblebee
follows
closely
in
his
wake,
until
the
sounds
of
both
are
lost
in
the
distance.
The
hum
of
this
bumblebee
is
a
frequent
musical
feature
of
the
entertainment,
and
many
is
the
dance
that
is
set
to
its
minstrelsy,
as
the
burly
insect
darts
in
among
the
merrymakers
and
is
off
to
his
perch
near
by.
It
is
only
as
we
steal
away
and
observe
him
closely
that
we
learn
the
secret
of
his
occasional
sorties.
There
on
a
clover
blossom
he
sits--sipping
honey?
Oh
no.
It
is
honey-dew
that
he
is
enjoying,
and
second-hand
at
that,
as
he
devours
the
satiated
bluebottle-fly
which
is
empaled
on
his
black
horny
beak.
For
this
is
only
a
bumblebee
in
masquerade--a
carnivorous
fly,
in
truth,
which,
safe
in
its
disguise
of
respectability,
hovers
in
the
flowery
haunts
of
the
innocents
and,
of
course,
reaps
his
reward.
And
what
is
this?
A
yellow-jacket
has
found
an
ambrosial
attraction
here
upon
the
bramble
leaf.
Meanwhile
a
great
black
and
white
paper-hornet
has
seen
his
opportunity,
and
is
soon
slyly
approaching
behind
the
sipper.
That
he
has
designs
on
that
jacket
and
its
contents
is
apparent.
In
a
moment
the
onslaught
is
consummated,
and
in
the
struggle
which
ensues
the
black
assailant
relieves
his
victim--of
his
watch
presumably,
for
he
has
captured
the
entire
garment,
which
he
soon
rifles
and
discards
with
some
show
of
satisfaction.
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