fastened firmly together, so as to form a flattish mass extremely variable in shape and size, the latter depending on the number of cocoons. One of these masses now before me consists of one hundred and seventeen cocoons, and its shape is that of a segment of a circle, fixed to the twig by the flat side.

The ends of the cocoons are both closed, but when the young Ichneumon is hatched it makes its exit by cutting a circular flap from one end of the cocoon, pushing the flap outwards and then creeping into the air. The insects are quite indifferent as to the end of the cocoon through which they escape, and in the example before me nearly two-thirds of the creatures have escaped out of one end and the remaining third out of the other.

The texture of these cocoons is very firm and stiff, and the silken material is so closely fitted together as to be completely waterproof. The microscope shows that the exterior of the cocoon is composed of white silken fibres matted tightly together, and rather rough, while the inside of the circular flap shows that the interior of each cocoon is smooth, hard, and of a pale yellow hue.

The longest and largest cells occupy the centre of the mass, while those at either end are shorter, smaller, and fewer, being about one-fifth of the entire number. Knowing the customs of most hymenopterous insects, we may conclude that the females occupy the centre and the males the extremities.

THERE is a very remarkable pensile cocoon constructed by the larva of another hymenopterous insect belonging to the same family as the Burnet ichneumon, and placed in the genus Cryptus.

The insects of this genus seem to construct a strange variety of cocoons, some being white, some yellow, and some banded and mottled with black. The most remarkable forms, however, are those in which the cocoon is attached to a thread some inches in length, the other end of which is fastened to a bough or a leaf. Réaumur, who discovered these curious objects, found that when the cocoon was detached from the branch and laid on the table it sprang to a distance of several inches, probably because the enclosed insect was able to bend itself and then suddenly straighten the body.

Réaumur believes that the Ichneumons which make these pensile cocoons are parasitic on the processionary caterpillars, because he found them plentiful near the nests of these insects.

How the cocoons are made and suspended is quite a mystery. Mr. Westwood offers a suggestion that, before changing into the pupal state, the insect spins its thread to the required length, and, while still suspended at the end of its rope, spins the cocoon, which thus becomes fastened to the thread. In a future page will be described a cocoon woven on a similar plan, but made by the caterpillar of one of the moths.

Mr. Westwood mentions that when examining the cocoon of the Cryptus, he found that it was composed of three distinct layers, that on the exterior being composed of loose silk, which could be wound off like that of the common silkworm, but that the two interior layers were very shining, smooth, and of a gummy membranous texture, thus agreeing with the cocoons. of the Burnet ichneumon.

OUR last example of the pensile nests formed by the hymenoptera is a truly remarkable one. For some time I could scarcely decide upon its place in the present work, whether it was to be ranked as an example of the pensiles, social insects, or builders. On account, however, of the locality which is chosen for it, and the peculiar method by which it is attached to the branch, I have decided upon placing it among the pensile nests.

It has already been mentioned that the members of the genus Polistes are in the habit of building their cells in the open air, and leaving them without covering to defend them.

The shape, material, and arrangement of the comb is extremely variable; some, as that which has already been mentioned, hanging their cell-masses to the branches, just as if a number of bee-combs were simply hitched on the twig by the simple process of boring a hole in the upper part of the comb, and pushing the twig through it; others, again, make their cells of mud, in a nearly globular shape, and fasten them on the branches like so many berries. The species, however, which make the cells represented in the illustration, is one of the most remarkable, and so elegant is the form of the combs, and so singular the method of their attachment, that I have had them drawn nearly of the natural size.

Generally, the shape of the comb is nearly round, as is seen in the upper figure of the illustration. The cells are remarkable for their radiating form, the bases being a trifle smaller than the

mouths, a peculiarity which would hardly be noticed in a single cell, but which produces the spreading outline when a number of them are massed together.

Some of the cells, those in the middle for example, are much longer than the others, and in the specimens in the British Museum many of them are closed at the mouth, showing that the insect is within, and has not yet attained its perfect state. Those on the circumference, however, are much shorter, and are entirely empty, not having been yet occupied. It is very possible that these cells would have been lengthened had the insects been left to themselves.

Although the circular shape is mostly the rule with these combs, so that they look something like withered dahlias or chrysanthemums, it is not the invariable form. If the reader will look at the lower figure in the illustration, he will see that it is much wider than long, and is apparently composed of two of the circular combs fixed together.

Now comes the curious part of the structure. The combs are not fastened directly to the branches, but are attached to footstalks which spring from their centre, and are firmly cemented upon the branch or twig. How wonderfully the insect must manage the comb so that it shall be balanced on this slender footstalk! To preserve the equilibrium of even an empty comb would be difficult enough, but when the cells are filled with fat, heavy grubs, the difficulty must be multiplied with every one.

The footstalks are made of the same papier-mâché like substance as the cells, only the layers are so tightly compressed together that they form a hard, solid mass, very much like the little pillars which support the different stories of an ordinary wasp's nest, but of much greater size. The position of the combs. is extremely variable, some being nearly horizontal, and others perpendicular, as shown in the illustration. These nests came from Bareilly in the East Indies.

HAVING now completed our notice of the pensile hymenoptera, we turn to another order of insects.

We can hardly expect to find that any of the beetles can be ranked among the pensile insects, their appearance and general habits being opposed to such an idea. The variety of nests made by the hymenoptera lead us at once to conjecture that some of them may be pensile, for it is at least likely that the little architects which can construct the marvellous system of the honeycomb, or the complicated galleries of the ant's nest, or contrive the wonderful homes of the leaf-cutter bees, would be also able to make nests which could be suspended from leaves or branches. But there is nothing in the general history of beetles which could lead us to place them among the pensile insects, a rank, however, which can be taken by a very few species, most of which belong to a single group.

This group is that of the Curculionidæ, or Weevils, and there

are a few species of these long-snouted beetles which make for themselves certain pensile habitations of a most elegant form. Two genera of Weevils are remarkable for the beauty of their cocoons, namely, the Hypera and Cionus.

If the reader should desire to possess specimens of these cocoons, he cannot do better than procure some seeds of the common species of Verbascum, say the Great and White Mulleins (Verbascum Thapsus and Lychnitis), and sow them in sandy or gravelly soil. The beetles of the genus Cionus feed on the mulleins, and when they are about to change into the pupal state, do not trouble themselves to leave the plant upon which they have been feeding. So fond are these beetles of the Verbascum, that Mr. Stephens found on a solitary plant, which was growing in a garden at Ripley, all the five species of the genus.

During the month of August the larva may be found in the flowers and seeds, and one species burrows into the leaves themselves, getting between the two membranes and feeding on the soft green parenchyma. When the larva are about to enter the pupal state, they cease from feeding, and spin for themselves. cocoons of a most remarkable shape. The cocoons are very small, being on the average about as large as sweet peas, and nearly as globular. They are constructed of a rather stiff and glutinous thread, which is so wonderfully twined as to form large open meshes of a nearly circular form.

The cocoon is very firm and elastic, feeling and looking very much like those hollow spheres and cylinders that artists in hair are so fond of making. The open meshes are so large that the enclosed pupa can be seen through them, so that there is but little protection from the elements. A very good idea of the general appearance of the cocoon may be obtained from the toys which are made from nuts by neat-handed schoolboys, by the simple process of boring them full of holes until the shell is reduced to a kind of wooden network with circular meshes.

All the beetles of the genus Cionus are pretty little creatures, very hard shelled, nearly as globular in form as the cocoon, and marked with dark patches and streaks.

The cocoons of the genus Hypera are also made with open meshes, and of a similarly stiff thread, but the form is oval instead of round. The larva of the Hypera is long and narrow,