Bat foreleg with hook
When the bat is on the ground, it is hard work for it to get along. At first it will reach forward a little to one side the hooked end of its fore-leg, and stick it in the ground; then it draws its hind-legs under its belly, and raising itself up, just tumbles forward its whole body. At the next step it stretches out the other fore-leg, and hooks it, as it did before, and drawing itself up, tumbles forward again. The bat does not like a level place, because it cannot raise itself in the air from it. When they rest, they hang by the hooks; and hereis a drawing of one, resting. In the other picture which I showed you just now the bat was flying."
Bat resting
"Uncle Philip, we did not know before that bats were such curious things; we always thought that they were birds; but if these pictures are like them, these hooks are as good as fish-hooks."
"The pictures, boys, are very much like the animal, and the hooks are just as plain as they seem to be in the drawings. But how often do you suppose that you have seen a bat?"
"Oh, many hundreds of times; for they are very common."
"True, boys; and yet you never knew before that they had hooks about them. Suppose that everybody had done as you have, just passed by the bats, without taking notice of them; I could not have told you then what strange creatures they are, for no person would have known any thing about them. You see, then, that men may have eyes, and yet not see things; because they will not look for them. Use your eyes, boys; God made them to be used."
"But, Uncle Philip, bats are such ugly things! and they can bite, too. We are afraid of them."
"Ugly, boys! And what of that? Will you look at nothing but what is handsome? If the bat could think and speak, I expect he would call you very ugly. But it is foolish, boys, to be afraid of these smaller animals. There are many creatures which might hurt you, and I would advise you to keep out of their way: but it is silly to be afraid of every poor little insect or animal which you see. I have seen a large boy cry when he saw a poor little caterpillar or bug near him. Nowthere are very few insects, indeed, which can or will hurt you; and a great many of them you may watch without touching them at all. And I think that he is a wicked and cruel boy who kills every poor bug that he sees, merely because he is stronger than the bug. It would be a great deal kinder and wiser in the boy to notice what the bug was doing, for then he might learn something worth knowing."
"But, Uncle Philip, is it wrong to killspiders?"
"Spiders! Why, boys, the spider is one of the very last of these little creatures that I should wish to kill. There is not a more curious little animal in the world, nor one that will pay a man better for watching its motions. At some other time I will tell you all about spiders and ants, for I have noticed them a great deal: but now, just to show you how much you would lose if you should kill all the spiders, I will talk with you about a tool which man uses, and which he might have learned to make from a spider."
"Oh, do tell us; what is it?"
"The next time you go to Mr. Brown's, the silversmith, ask him to show you his platefor drawing out wire. Tell him that I told you to ask him, and he will show it to you. You will see a flat piece of steel with holes made through it in regular lines, beginning with a large size, and growing smaller and smaller until the last is very small indeed.
"Now the wire is drawn through these holes; beginning at the larger ones, and passing every time through the next smaller one, it stretches the wire out, until it becomes as small as the workman wishes it to be.
"The spider is a wire-drawer, too; for it has a contrivance to draw out its threads, and make them smaller or larger, as it pleases. If you will look at a very large spider, you can see with your naked eye, just at the end of its body, four, and sometimes six, little knobs like teats, with a circle around them. These are its spinners. Each one of these small knobs, inside of that circle, is so full of little holes or tubes, that Mr. Reaumur (of whom I told you before, you will recollect) calculated that a place no larger than the point of a pin had a thousand of these little holes in it. These holes are sometimes so very small, that another gentleman,[8]who looked at spiders through a microscope very often, thought it would take four millions of the threads which came through those holes to make one thread as thick as a hair of his beard. Here is a picture of a spider hanging by a thread coming out of its spinner, or, as it is sometimes called, its spinneret."
Spider hanging by a thread
"Then, Uncle Philip, the spider does not spin its thread all at once?"
"No, boys. Fine as you see that thread to be, it is not one single line, but it is made of many thousands joined together. The spiders have little bags of gum within their bodies, near their spinners, and out of these they draw the threads: when they have come out about the tenth part of an inch, they join them all into one with their claws; and they can shut their spinners when they please, so as to make the threads longer or shorter; and they can break them off, too, when they wish."
"But, Uncle Philip, we do not see why there should be so many threads to make up one."
"I cannot exactly tell you, boys, why there are so many; but probably to make the thread dry quicker, by letting the air touch so many parts of it: and I expect, too, the thread is stronger, because we know that in two pieces of cord of one size, if one is made of several smaller cords put together, it will be stronger than the other, which was spun all at once. The following is a picture of the spider's spinnerets, and some of the threads as it appears through the microscope; only you must recollect thatallthe threads are not drawn:there are a great many more than you see in the picture."
Spider's Threads coming from the SpinneretsSpider's Threads coming from the Spinnerets.
Spider's Threads coming from the Spinnerets.
FOOTNOTE:[8]Leuwenhoek.
[8]Leuwenhoek.
Uncle Philip tells the Children of a Door, with a Hinge and Spring to it, made by a Spider; and shows them Pictures to let them see the Difference between God's Work and Man's.
"I wasthinking, boys, last night, of what you said about killing the poor spiders; and I was sorry that I did not then recollect one thing about a spider which I could have told you, and which would have made you like the poor little creatures better. However, I determined that when you came to see me again, it should be the first thing I would tell you, if you wished to hear it."
"Wish to hear it! Why, Uncle Philip, we always wish to hear you tell us of any thing that you please to talk about. You have told us of a great many strange things, about which we knew nothing before; andwe will thank you to tell us the story about the spider."
"Very well, boys; you shall hear it. Pray, do you not think that it is a piece of difficult work to make a door to a house, and to make hinges to hang it with, and to fit it so nicely that when it is done you cannot see the joints where the door is shut?"
"Indeed it is a piece of very hard work. Uncle Philip, and it takes the carpenter a long time to do it; and it is hard work, too, for the blacksmith to make the hinges. But what has that to do with the story about the spider?"
"Patience, boys, patience: you shall know presently. Never be in too great a hurry: it is a bad plan. I have always noticed that those persons who hurried most, went slowest in the end. Another question I wish to ask you is this,—do you not think it was hard work for the first man who ever made a spring, and put it on a door, to make it shut itself again when it had been opened?"
"Yes, it was so: and the man who does it now gets well paid for it."
"Very good, boys. And now what will you say when I tell you that a poor little spider did all these things long before man did?"
"What, Uncle Philip! A spider make a door with a hinge and a spring to make it shut itself!"
"Yes, boys; a spider. Do you think he deserves to be killed for doing it?"
"Oh no, no! But pray tell us all about it. Uncle Philip."
"This kind of spider, then, boys, I saw in Jamaica, and I saw its house, too. It is called the mason-spider. The nest or house which I saw was a tube made of very hard clay, about six inches long, and an inch across, and was a little bent at one end. The inside of this tube was lined all the way through with a kind of soft silky stuff, something like silk-paper, but stronger, and it was of a yellowish colour; but the curious part was the door. I never saw any thing which an insect had made more strange than that. This door was round, about as large as a quarter of a dollar, and was a little hollowed on the upper side like a saucer; the inside of it was rounded like the outside of the saucer. It was of the same stuff with the lining of the nest, and seemed to be made of more than a dozen pieces of that lining, put one on the top of another: it was shaped so, too, that the insidelayers or pieces were the broadest, and the outside ones became smaller and smaller, except at the hinge, which was about an inch long. All the pieces in the door were joined into this hinge, and then the hinge was joined and worked into the lining in the tube. That made the hinge the thickest and strongest part of the whole work. How the spider made it so, boys, I cannot tell; but so it was, that this hinge not only was a hinge, but was so good a spring, that whenever the door was opened it would shut itself immediately: and when shut, it fitted so nicely that it was very difficult to see the place of joining."
"Well, Uncle Philip, this is most wonderful! But will not the hinge wear out at last?"
"Wonderful as it is, boys, it is all true. As to its wearing out, I cannot tell you; but I know that a gentleman who had one, said that his friends were very anxious to see it; and there were so many of them, that he had to open the door and let it shut itself many hundreds of times to satisfy them; and it did not hurt the spring at all."
"Uncle Philip, we shall not kill the poor spiders any more."
"A good resolution, boys: only let them alone, and they will not hurt you. There is another kind of mason-spider, which I never saw, but I have read of it. It is found in the south of France; I did not happen, however, to meet with one while I was in that beautiful country. This kind digs a gallery or hole under ground as much as a foot deep. She lines it with a sort of silk glued to the walls, and makes her door, which is round also, with many layers of mud or earth all kneaded and bound together with some of her silk. On the outside, the door is flat and rough, to make it appear like the dirt around it, and hide it; on the inside it is shaped like the inside of the door of the other spider I have told you about; and all covered with a coat of fine silk. The threads of this silk are left long on one side, and fastened to the upper part of the hole; and these make the hinge. There is no spring to this; but when the spider pushes its door open and comes out, it shuts again by its own weight. If this door is forced open by any one when the spider is at home, she will catch hold of it and pull it in; and sometimes even when it is half-opened; she will snatch it out of thehand. Here is a picture which shows the nest open, and another of it shut; and there is a drawing of the spider, too.
Spider's nestIllustration:A, the Nest shut;B, the Nest open;C, the Spider;D, the Eyes, magnified;E,F, Parts of the Foot and Claw magnified.
Illustration:A, the Nest shut;B, the Nest open;C, the Spider;D, the Eyes, magnified;E,F, Parts of the Foot and Claw magnified.
A gentleman says, in a book which he wrote about insects, that he once broke one of these doors off, to see what the spider would do."
"And what did she do, Uncle Philip?"
"She made another door; but took very good care not to put any hinge to it, for fearshe should be disturbed again. But when she thought all danger was gone, she could then put a hinge to it, you know; and probably she did."
"Well, Uncle Philip, we thank you again for this account of the spiders, and shall always look at them hereafter with more pleasure. Who would have thought that we should ever find doors and hinges among such little creatures, and these too so very well made and fitted!"
"Why, boys, I have noticed the works of God very often; and I will now tell you one thing which I always found. It is this: a piece of the very best work which man can make is really coarse when you compare it with the work of God. The poor spider that we have talked about, when she makes her door, makes it to fit perfectly; because in doing that one thing, God made her to know perfectly how to do it. The knowledge is God's, boys; but the work is the spider's: but in making any thing else, except about her house, the spider knows nothing."
"Uncle Philip, you told us once that you were very fond of watching all sorts of dumb animals, and we think now that we know the reason."
"Well, what is it?"
"It is because you see so much of God's knowledge in them; is it not?"
"Yes, my dear boys, it is. When I look at many things which man makes or does, I think to myself, 'Now this thing is likely to have a mixture of sense and nonsense in it; the sense is God's, and the nonsense is man's.' But when I look at a thing made by one of the dumb creatures for its own comfort and safety, like the spider's house, with its door and hinge, for instance, I say to myself, 'Now here is the wisdom of God, without any of man's nonsense.' And yet, boys, men are far wiser than any other animal in this world."
"But, Uncle Philip, you said that a piece of man's best work was really coarse: some things must be neat, we should think. Is the point of a needle coarse? It does not seem so."
"Boys, you have mentioned the very thing which was in my mind when I spoke. The point of the smallest needle is very coarse. You have heard me talk of the microscope. I told you it was a set of glasses, so fixed that when you looked through them, it made small things appear very large: on some other day, perhaps, I will let you look through my microscope for yourselves; but now, I just wishto show you the difference between the work of God and that of man. Let us go home, and I will show you some pictures I made, and you can see in them the difference. Last winter, you know, was very cold, and there was a great deal of snow: one day, while the snow was falling pretty fast, I was obliged to go out; and as the flakes of snow fell upon the sleeve of my coat (which was black), I thought they had a curious shape, and did not all appear alike; so when I returned home I caught some of the flakes, and looked at them through my microscope. They were so beautiful that I made pictures of them; and as we have now reached home, just let me step into my study, and I will bring them to you. Here they are, boys."
Snow-flakesSnow-flakes, seen through a Microscope.
Snow-flakes, seen through a Microscope.
"Oh, Uncle Philip! these are very pretty; they are all so different, too!"
"Yes, boys, I picked out different ones to draw: when I was done, I began to look into my books to find out what others had written about this thing; and I found that a gentleman named Dr. Hook had seen more than a hundred different shapes and sizes of these flakes. This isGod'swork, boys.
"Now I have brought you out another picture: it is the point of a very small needle, seen through the very same microscope which showed me the snow-flakes. Just look at it, boys. This isman'swork."
Point of a very small NeedleThe Point of a very small Needle, seen through the Microscope.
The Point of a very small Needle, seen through the Microscope.
Uncle Phillip tells the Boys a Story about a Philosopher and his Kite.—He tells them, too, about Ants that have Awls, and build Cities, and Stairs, and Bridges, and many other things.
"So, boys, you have come again to see me. I am very glad of it; for as this is a leisure day, we shall have time enough to talk: but what is that you have there? Oh, I see now; it is a kite."
"Yes, Uncle Philip; it is a French kite that we have been making, and we have come to ask you to go out with us this morning and see us fly it."
"Very good, boys; I will go. I am an old man now; but I remember that I was a boy once, and loved to make a kite sail. It always makes me happy to see boys and girls playing about in health, provided they are not wasting time, and their play is not to do harmto anybody or any thing. So come on; we will go out upon the green common yonder, behind the church, and I think we shall have a grand kite-flying, for the wind is about right.
"There, boys! up she goes! Let out the string. I think she behaves very well; there, she is done pitching about: now she is steady; see how she mounts. Ah, that is a very good kite."
"Uncle Philip, I was reading a book yesterday which said, 'A philosopher once found great help from a kite.' What did it mean?"
"Do you know what a philosopher is?"
"Yes, Uncle Philip; a philosopher is the same thing with a very wise man, is it not?"
"That is pretty near the meaning. Philosopher means a person who loves wisdom; and such a person, you know, will always be trying to get knowledge; and a person who is always trying to get knowledge is apt to be a wise and learned man."
"Well, how could a kite help a man to get learning? Did he read the old newspapers it was made of? I cannot see any other way."
"But there may be another way without your seeing it, you know. The philosopherwhom your book meant was Dr. Franklin. Did you ever hear of him?"
"Oh, yes; he was born in Boston, and was a printer, and afterward became a very great man."
"That is true. He was a man of excellent sense, who both read and thought a great deal; and in the war which the people of this country had with England to get their freedom. Dr. Franklin's sound sense was of great use to his countrymen."
"But, Uncle Philip, how did the kite help him?"
"I will tell you. If you take a proper piece of glass, or sulphur, or sealing-wax, or rosin, and rub it for some time, and then hold it near to small bits of thread or paper, the thread or paper will fly towards the glass or sealing-wax, and stick to it for a short time. That which makes them fly to the glass and stick there, is calledelectricity. After this was found out, men went on slowly finding out more and more, until at last a man named Hawksbee made a large machine with a glass barrel, which could be turned around by a handle like that which you see to a grindstone; and with this machine (which I will show youat some other time) he managed to get a great deal of this electricity, and it would shoot off in sparks, which appeared like little lightning.
"And now, boys, what I am going to tell you will show you the use of a man's eyes. Dr. Franklin knew all about the electrical machine, and was very fond of drawing off the sparks from it, to see what he could find out about it. And when he saw it appeared so much like lightning, and could feel too a spark strike his hand a smart blow, he began to think that perhaps it was exactly the same thing with the lightning which came from the clouds; so he determined, if he could, to find out whether it was or not. He was a great deal troubled for some time to know how he should get down any of the lightning from the clouds; until at last, one day, he saw a boy flying a kite; and that showed him the way. So he took a large silk handkerchief, and stretching it upon sticks, soon made his kite; and not long afterward, when he saw a black thunder-cloud coming up, he took his kite and walked out of Philadelphia (where he then lived) into the fields, and sent his kite up. He had a string like yours, made of hemp, and to the end of this he tied an ironkey, and then fastening it to the post of a shed by a silk cord, which he tied to the end of the hemp string, he got under the shed, and waited a long time. Now, boys, if he had been impatient, all his work would have been of no use. But he even waited, after a very heavy cloud had passed over his kite without giving it any of its lightning. At last, when he was almost ready to give it up and go home, he saw some loose threads on the hemp string rise and stand up straight, just as he knew the electrical machine would make them do. He directly put his knuckle to the iron key, and off came the spark, which he knew at once was exactly like the spark which he could get from the machine. And so, boys, he found out what he wished to know; and this was the way in which the kite helped the philosopher."
"Well, Uncle Philip, this is really a very pretty story about Dr. Franklin and his kite. Was anybody with him?"
"Nobody but his son; he took him out to help him raise the kite. But, boys, I see the other lads are walking on towards the bridge with our kite; let us follow them, and as we go, I will tell you of an electricanimal."
"Oh, we shall be very glad to hear of him."
"Listen, then. There is a kind of eel, which when it is touched will give a very hard blow, just like an electric shock, to the person who touches it."
"Is there any spark, Uncle Philip?"
"No, boys; there is no spark,—but the blow is tremendous. I remember reading of one of these fish which was caught in a net, and a foolish sailor would take it up, though he was told it would hurt him. The fish shocked him so violently that he fell down in a fit, and it was a long time before he came to his senses; and his story was, that the moment he touched the fish, 'the cold ran swiftly up his arm into his body, and pierced him to the heart.' The fish has this power to defend itself, and to kill other fish for food."
"But, Uncle Philip, how do they ever manage to catch them alive? I should think they would be shocked to death."
"I will tell you. A very sensible traveller and learned man[9]gives an account of the manner in which they catch them, by a way called, by the South American Indians, 'fishing with horses.'"
"Fishing with horses! What does that mean?"
"The savannas, or large open plains, in South America have a great many wild horses and mules running over them. M. Humboldt says that the Indians caught about thirty of these, and drove them into the pond where the electrical eels were. The horses made a great noise, and stirred up the mud with their hoofs, and this brought up the eels from the bottom in a great rage. They were very large, and looked more like water-snakes than like eels; and rising to the top of the water, they crowded under the bellies of the horses and mules, and began to shock them. The poor horses would try to get out of the pond; but the Indians, with spears and long reeds, would stand around to hinder them from coming out: some of them, too, would climb upon the trees around the banks, and get out upon the branches which were over the pond, and by crying out aloud, and using their long reeds, kept the horses in the pond. The eels would continue to shock them with tremendous blows, and a great many of the poor creatures were either stunned or killed, and would sink. Those not killed would pantand raise their heads, while their eyes would show their pain, and they would try to get out. The Indians still drove them back, but some few escaped, and reached the shore, stumbling at every step, and would stretch themselves on the bank, tired out, and benumbed in their limbs by the shocks they had received. M. Humboldt says that in less than five minutes after the fight began, two horses were drowned; and he thought that the end of it would be, that every horse which did not get out of the water would be killed: but at last the eels became tired, and began to disperse. This is just what the Indians wish. They know that the eels have spent so much of their electrical power that they will need a long rest. It takes them a great while to get back their strength; so that if, the next day after such a fight, you send in more horses, they cannot kill one. When the eels, tired out in this way, begin to separate, they will swim to the edge of the pond, and there the Indians take them with small harpoons fastened to long cords. When the cords are dry, the Indian feels no shock in raising the eel out of the water. In this wayM. Humboldt got five, all alive, and very little hurt. But here we are at the bridge."
"Uncle Philip, suppose we sit down under the shade of this tree, and rest."
"I am willing, boys; but take care of the damp ground: there is an old piece of timber that the men have taken out of the bridge, for I see they have been mending it; we will sit on that."
"But, Uncle Philip, what shall we do with the kite? shall we draw it down?"
"Do with it! Why, just tie the end of your string to that root, and it will take care of itself in this wind."
"What a monstrous piece of timber this is. Uncle Philip! It must have taken a great many men to move it; and see—there are some larger ones still in the bridge. It must be a difficult work to build a bridge."
"Yes, it is so: but there are bridges much harder to build than our little wooden one here. Some are built of stone, and it takes years to finish them. None but a good workman can plan and build a good stone bridge: but I know a little fellow that can make as good a bridge as anybody; and yet no man ever taught him the trade."
"Ah! now we know what is coming. You are going to tell us of a dumb animal that can make a bridge."
"Yes, I am: and a small animal it is, too, for it is an ant."
"What sort of an ant is it?"
"It is called the white ant; and as there is a great deal that is very curious about this insect. I think that I had better tell you all about it at once."
"Pray do, Uncle Philip; you know you promised to tell us about ants."
"True, boys; and I like to keep my promises. In my story about these ants, I think, if you attend, you will find more tools; and besides that, you will hear of a great many things which man makes, and which show matters quite as strange as any of which I have yet told you."
"What are they, Uncle Philip?"
"They are the building of something like a city, and bridges, and stairs, and roads, and tunnels under ground, and—"
"Oh, let us hear—let us hear! We have heard nothing equal to this yet."
"Well, then, I begin by telling you that these insects are very common in Africa,and in the East Indies, and are troublesome enough, for they eat almost every thing but metal and glass. They love wood, though, better than any thing else; and they are so numerous that they destroy it wonderfully fast. They are very cunning, too; they never eat the outside of the wood first, but will work upon the inside, so as to leave the outer part not thicker than a piece of pasteboard. But the curious things I meant to tell you were about their city; so I will go on to that. When they first begin to build you will see little hills shaped like a sugar-loaf, and rising up above the ground about a foot, or a little more. Here is a picture of them.
Hills shaped like a sugar-loaf
The highest of these little hills is always in the middle; and they go on building more and more, and making them all higher, still keeping the tallest one in the centre. Whenthey have made them as high as they wish, then they fill in the spaces between the tops of all these sugar-loaf hills, so as to make one roof over all. Here is a picture of one finished.
Finished sugar-loaf hill
After this is done, they take down nearly all of the little sugar-loaf hills inside; for they only wanted them for a scaffold to support the top while they were building it."
"Uncle Philip, what is all this built of?"
"It is built of clay, which the ant makes almost as hard as stone."
"Are they strong, Uncle Philip?
"So strong, boys, that five men may stand on them; and it is a common thing for the wild bulls to get upon them and look out, while the rest of the herd are feeding below."
"Why, how high are they?"
"Oh, of different heights; some as many as five or six feet, others are twelve, and the largest are as high as twenty feet, and would easily hold a dozen men."
"And how large are the ants, Uncle Philip?"
"Not above a quarter of an inch high as they stand. Now, boys, just compare the size of one of these nests with the size of the ant that made it; and it is quite as large in proportion as the city of New-York is when compared to a man's size; yes, it is a great deal larger in proportion. These nests are sometimes five hundred times as high as the ants which build them: now suppose that men built their houses five hundred times as high as themselves, and as large at the foundation in proportion to their height, what monstrous buildings they would be! But let me go on. This outside shell, which I have been telling you how they make, is nothing but the wall of the city; the buildings are all inside of that."
"But, Uncle Philip, there is one thing I have been thinking of which would make it more like a city still. But I hardly think they can have that."
"What is it?"
"Why in a city, you know, where there are a great many people, there are a great many trades: some do one thing and some do another to get money."
"Yes, that is true; and I am glad that you mentioned it, because it reminds me of one thing I intended to tell you about these ants. Now, it would not be reasonable, you know, to expect the ants to have many different kinds of business to do, as the people in New-York have; but still, boys, they are not all alike, and they do have work of different kinds. There are in the city of the white ants a king and a queen, and soldiers, and labourers, or workmen, and all these are different. Here are pictures which will show them all to you. This is the king.
King of the termitesKing of the Termites.
King of the Termites.
At first he has four wings, but soon loses them. He never grows any larger after he loses them. The king may be known by his having two large eyes. Here is the queen. She is the mother of the whole city; and you see what a large body she has. It is full of eggs, and eighty thousand will come from her in twenty-four hours. She also has two eyes.
Queen of the termitesQueen of the Termites.
Queen of the Termites.
"Here is a soldier: he has a large head, armed with two hooks, shaped like a crooked awl, and very sharp.
Soldier of the termitesSoldier of the Termites.
Soldier of the Termites.
"For every one of these soldiers there are about one hundred labourers. The soldiers do the fighting; and though they are perfectly blind, they fight well, and are very brave.The following is a picture, too, of the soldiers' awls, seen through the microscope, to show you how sharp they are.
Soldier's awl
"And here is a picture of the labourer; the largest part of the city is made up of the labourers,—which shows us, I think, boys, that there is more need of working than there is of fighting.
Labourer of the TermitesLabourer of the Termites.
Labourer of the Termites.
This class, like the soldiers, is blind, and scarcely ever go into the open air; their work is mostly under ground or in the inside of wood. Both, however, do come out when their city is attacked and broken: but I will tell you of that presently."
FOOTNOTE:[9]M. Humboldt.
[9]M. Humboldt.
Uncle Philip tells the Children more about the White Ants.
"Now, boys, as I have told you about the kinds of different work which these ants do, we will go on, and I will tell you about the inside of the city. The first thing to be done is to build a house for the king and queen. This is the first house built in the city, and always stands in the centre, directly under the point of the roof or top of the outside wall. It is built nearly on a level with the ground, and is shaped very much like a long oven, or the half of an egg split through the long way. The floor is exactly level, and about an inch thick; the roof is about the same thickness. The doors are on a level with the floor, and just large enough to let one of the labourers go in."
"Why, Uncle Philip, how do the king and queen ever get out then."
"They never do get out, boys; they live in that house always, and they are not the first kings and queens who have found that a palace is sometimes a prison. Just around this house of the king and queen are other houses built of clay, arched at the top, and of different shapes. These are for the servants or labouring ants, who remove the eggs of the queen as fast as she discharges them. The soldiers also live in these houses. Next to these are the magazines, that is, the houses where they keep their food, such as dry juices of trees and gums; and mixed up with these are the nurseries. These are made by the labourers, and are different from all the other buildings, for they are made of wood gnawed or broken into fine threads, and joined together with some kind of gum, and around each of them there is a case of clay. These nurseries are to carry the eggs into for the young ants to be hatched. Between all these different houses or parts there are thousands of galleries or ways, which run among them and separate them from each other, and these may be called the streets of the city. These streets run in all directions, and extend as far as the outside wall; and houses are built ontop of houses, and streets run over streets, until they reach up as high as two-thirds of the inside wall. But under the top of their outside case they always leave a large open place that is never filled up with houses. And around this space they will build three or four large arches, sometimes two or three feet high; these I suppose are to prevent the houses from falling in towards the centre of the city, which is an open space, and on the other side they are fastened to the outside walls, so that these houses are very firm."
"And what is all this made of, Uncle Philip?"
"All of clay, except the nurseries, which I told you were made of wood and gum. Over the house of the king and queen there is a sort of flat floor, some distance above it, with nurseries and magazines between the under side of it and the top of the queen's house. This floor will not let the water through it, so as to wet the palace where the king and queen live, but will turn it off into large trenches or gutters under ground, of which I will speak directly. The bridge I told you of they build from this floor in the open space, directly under the top or dome of theoutside wall; it rises up and is joined to some hole in the side wall of the houses above it."
"How large is it, Uncle Philip?"
"Why, sometimes it is half an inch broad, a quarter of an inch thick, and ten inches long; all made of clay, so that it is very strange how they manage to join it to the wall without its falling down by its own weight while they were building it."
"And what do you suppose this bridge is for, Uncle Philip?"
"Why, I think there can be no doubt what it is for. When the city has been growing for some time, some of the nurseries will be very high up above the queen's house; but the labourers have to carry her eggs into them, no matter how far off they may be. If they carry them through all the streets, they will have to walk as many as fifteen or twenty feet, for it would be five or six feet in a perfectly straight line, and these streets are very crooked; but if they make a bridge in the open space in the centre, they can then go from the queen's house over the bridge, and get to the upper nurseries without travelling more than two feet. So they made the bridge to shorten the way, to be sure."
"This is very wonderful: but you said something about large trenches or gutters underground; what are they, Uncle Philip?"
"These galleries lead from the city under ground, and are as large as the bore of a large cannon; they are thirteen inches across, and more than a hundred yards long. I have already told you that the labourers never come out into the light, when they can help it; and these underground ways are the great roads to the city, to fetch in clay, or wood, or water, or provisions: and now I will tell you another thing which shows a great deal of sense. As some of their houses are very high up, you know they would find it very hard to climb up through all the streets with a heavy load in a straight line; so when these large ways underground reach the outside wall, they just come through and keep on winding around the inside of it like a corkscrew all the way to the top; and there are other galleries opening from it at different places into the city. One thing has been noticed about these ants; they can scarcely climb at all up a perpendicular wall. Therefore on the upright side of any part of the city you may see a road made, standing out from the wall likea ledge; it is flat on the top, and half an inch wide, and goes up gradually like a stair-case, or like a road cut out on the side of a mountain.
"Here is a picture of one of their cities cut straight down through the middle. At the bottom, in the centre, is the queen's house; over it is a floor, and the two crooked things you see rising up from the floor, are bridges."