"Good morning, good morning, Uncle Philip; we have been so much delighted with the stories about the white ants, that we hope you have more of the same kind to tell us."

"Why, as to that matter, boys, I can tell you much more about ants, for there are many kinds of them; but I am not sure that I can show you any of the tools with which they work, though a large portion of their work is like that of man; and they have, too, several customs which our fellow-creatures have. I can tell you, however, of several other animals which do use tools shaped like those used by men, if you would rather hear of them."

"If you please, Uncle Philip, we will hear of them at another time; but now we would rather have you tell us of the other kinds of ants."

"Oh, very well, boys; it shall be as you wish. All that I desire is to instruct and amuse you, and I am sure that the ants can furnish a good lesson to us. I shall begin with the mason ants. They always build their nests either of clay which is damp, and dug from the inside of their city under ground, or which has been made wet by the rain; and a part of their building is always above the ground, so that you can easily see it. There is no fixed rule for the ants to build by. Their cities are not all alike in the inside. Sometimes the walls are larger and coarser, and the ways and galleries are higher, than at other times. The rooms, too, are different in shape and size, so that this industrious little insect seems to have sense enough to work in the best way according to circumstances. There is only one general rule which they seem to have, and that is always to build in a number of different stories, one above the other. If you examine one of these stories you may see a number of large places or halls, some smaller rooms, and some long galleries which serve as passage-ways. The tops of these large halls are covered with an arched ceiling, and this ceiling is held up, sometimes by little columns, sometimes by very thin walls, or by props built against the side walls, just like buttresses. There are also chambers which have but one door, which opens into the lower story, and large open places in the centre of the nest something like a cross road, and all these little galleries or streets come into that open place."

"Any bridges, Uncle Philip?"

"No, boys; no bridges among these ants, so far as I know. There will sometimes be as many as twenty stories above ground in the ant-hill, and as many below. The best time to see these little fellows at work is in a gentle shower of rain, or directly after."

"Why do they work in the rain, Uncle Philip?"

"I suppose, boys, it is because the earth is then better for them; and one thing that has been noticed about their work is, that the rain, when it is not too violent, seems to make it solid, for these ants have no gum or glue about them like some other insects, to make the earth stick together. As soon as the rain begins, if you watch the brown ants, you may see them come out of the ground in great numbers; and then running in again, they will soon return, each one with a little piece of dirt in his mouth, which he puts down upon the roof of the nest. A gentleman who watched them very closely [10] says, that at first he could not think what this was done for, but at last he saw little walls begin to rise up with spaces left between them. In some places pillars were begun, placed at regular distances, and he knew that these were to support ceilings; so he found out that they were going to build another story to their house, and they were laying the foundations."

"How I should have liked to see them. Uncle Philip. I would not have cared for the rain."

"Ah, I see you are fit to be a naturalist. You know what that word means, do you not?"

"It means, Uncle Philip, a man who loves to study about the animals and insects, does it not?"

"It means a man or a woman either, boys, who loves to study the things in nature no matter whether they are animals, or stones, or grass, or flowers, or any of the things which God has made. Mark, boys, I said to study the things, and you said to study about the things. Now a person may read a great deal that is interesting and true about all these things in books; and it is very well to do so; but I think that the real naturalist will never be satisfied with books only; he will be looking to see things for himself. And I said a woman might be a naturalist, because some ladies have been fond of natural history, and have proved themselves to be very good naturalists. But let us go back to the ants. Mr. Huber, in the account which he gives of his having watched these little workmen, never thought of telling us whether he got wet or not, because he was too busy to think or care much about it. He had an opportunity of seeing what he might never see again, and a little rain was not to spoil it. He says that each ant, as it brought out its little lump of dirt, would place it on the spot where it wished it to be, and press against it with its teeth, so as to make it fit closely. It then rubbed its feelers all over it, and after that pressed upon it lightly with its fore-feet. The walls went on very rapidly, and it often happened that two little walls, which were to make a passage or gallery, would be raised opposite and at a small distance from each other. When they were about a quarter of an inch high, the ants would set to work and cover them with an arched ceiling. After they had raised all the walls as high as they wished, on the inside of each wall at the top they began to put in pieces of wet dirt almost level, and in such a way as to make a ledge; and by joining on more dirt to it, it would meet the ledge made from the opposite wall so as to make a roof: these roofs over the galleries were about a quarter of an inch across. The ceilings over the large halls were sometimes as much as two inches in breadth, and to support these they raised pillars; and beginning in the corner where two walls joined, they would commence the ceiling with a ledge, while from the top of each pillar they would also build out a layer of earth a little rounded on the top; these they continued to add to until all met and made a complete cover for the hall."

"I wonder it did not fall, Uncle Philip, before they could join it together."

"Mr. Huber says that he thought several times it would fall, from the rain which was dropping upon it all the time; but he found that the pieces held together, and that the rain, instead of hurting it, only made it more solid. All that it wants, when the ants have done, is a little heat from the sun to bake it hard, and then it appears like a piece of solid dirt. Sometimes, if the rain be violent, the apartments will be destroyed, especially if the arches are not built strongly; and when this happens, the little creatures go to work very patiently and rebuild them."

"And how long, Uncle Philip, did it take the ants to put another story on their house?"

"Between seven and eight hours; and they had hardly finished one before they began another, but they had not time to finish it, for the rain stopped before they had built much: however, they kept on, taking advantage of the wet earth; but a cold drying wind soon sprang up, and the earth would not stick; so they stopped: but what do you think they did with the new story which they had not time to finish?"

"What did they do, Uncle Philip?"

"Pulled every part of it to pieces, and scattered the dirt here and there over the roof of the story which they had finished.

"I will tell you another story about these ants, boys, which I think is most wonderful, because it appears so much like reason. These insects all seem to work separately,—I mean without attending to the work of others: of course sometimes the work done by different ants on opposite sides of the same gallery or hall will not suit: one wall will be higher than the other, so that the ceilings will not meet. Mr. Huber saw just such a case; the ceiling which was begun from one wall would just have reached the other wall about half-way up; and while he was wondering how the ants would cure the fault, one of them came, and looking at the work, seemed to know that it was wrong, and immediately began by taking down the ceiling from the lower wall; he then raised it to the same height with the opposite wall, and made a new ceiling in Mr. Huber's presence with the pieces of the old one."

"Uncle Philip, if that ant did not know how to think, I am mistaken."

"I must confess, boys, it does seem very much like thinking; and if it was not thinking, we must at any rate own that it was something which, in this case, did quite as well; for no thought of man could have hit upon a better plan. But if the ant knew how to think as a man does, do you suppose it would ever have made the mistake? Would not the workmen have all agreed beforehand what they were to do, and how it should be done, so that there might be no need of pulling down any of the work because it would not suit? I think that this story, boys, while it shows us something like reason in one particular instance, shows us also that in general the ant has not reason like ours. But I am tired now, and can tell you no more this morning. When you come again I shall be ready to talk with you about some other kinds of ants. But before you go, tell me—can any of you inform me what the Bible says about the ant?"

"Oh yes, Uncle Philip: it says, 'Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways, and be wise.'"

"Well, another question. Have you any lessons to say when you go into school on Monday?"

"Yes, Uncle Philip; we have."

"Have you learned them, boys?"

"No, sir."

"Then remember what the Bible says to the sluggard, and go and learn them at once. Good-by, children."

"Good-by, Uncle Philip: we will learn our lessons."