the substance which had so long puzzled him. He saw her take from the wood a bundle of small pieces, about the tenth of an inch in length, and finer than a hair, and as she did not swallow them, but took them in a mass with her feet, he had no doubt that his opinion was correct. In a short time he saw her fly to another part of the window, and carry with her the wood which she had collected, and to which she continued to add. He then caught her and began to examine the bundle, and found that it was neither yet moistened nor rolled into a ball, as is always done before being used by the wasp in her building. He also noticed, that before cutting the fibres or pieces, she bruised them into a kind of lint with her mouth. All this he tried to do with his penknife, bruising and paring the same wood till it resembled the fibres collected by the wasp; and so he found out how wasps made their paper-for these fibres are kneaded together into a kind of paste, and when she has formed a round ball of them she spreads it out into a leaf nearly as thin as tissue paper, and this she does by moving backwards, and levelling it with her jaws, her tongue, and her teeth. And so the wasp forms paper, placing layer upon layer, fifteen sheets deep, and thus keeps the earth from falling down into her nest.

The nest of the paper-making wasp is about sixteen or eighteen inches long, by twelve or thirteen broad. On the outside it is supported by a thick coating, formed of many layers of a grey substance. They do not touch each other, but have a small space between each; so that if the rain passes through one or two of them, it stops there. The outer part of the nest is sometimes like a large bottle of Indiarubber; but, so far from being smooth, it seems as if formed of oyster shells tacked together. Within this covering are several stories of cells placed one above another. These are not for any store of food, but for the young to live in; and the entrance is always downwards. Various props, too, support these floors, all skilfully made; being, like the columns of the builder, wider at the upper and lower ends

than in the middle. There are generally two holes, each large enough to admit one wasp at a time. By one they enter, and by the other they leave the nest.

In a large nest there are not fewer than sixteen thousand cells. They vary with the dwellers, of which there are three kinds. The largest are for the grubs of females, the smallest for those of workers. The least always have a comb to themselves. Nor is the nest all; for as it is often a foot and a half under ground, the wasps need a covered way to its entrance. This they make, for they are capital miners; and so busy are they that the work is done in a few days. These insects are much attached to their homes. These nests vary in shape. A nest may sometimes be found in deep old thatch, as well as under ground. They often build in hollow logs, or the holes of decayed trees; but they repair also to the tiles of old barns or outhouses. One species prefers the branches of a shrub, or even a nettle; another, the broad flat branch of a silver fir-tree, which serves to protect the nest both from the sun and from rain; and cells have been known attached to palings, or other woodwork, without any case or covering. One nest has been observed like a flattened globe in shape, and formed of many pieces, and others are like sugar loaves. Thus we see their skill, as given to them by their great Creator. Surely all the works of God praise him.

Sent by M. M. B. BIRKS.

THE UPRIGHT JUDGE.

FOUNDED ON AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF SIR

MATTHEW HALE.

A GENTLEMAN in affluent circumstances, living on a beautiful estate in one of the eastern counties, had two sons. The elder, who was of a wild, unsettled disposition, could not be prevailed upon to study any profession, nor to remain quietly at home; but after rambling about England for some years he left his father's house, and went abroad.

At the homestead things went on as usual for a number of years; until at length the husband joined the long buried wife in the stillness of the grave, lamenting to the last the absence of his beloved, but vagrant son. Any one entering that shuttered mansion, on the night of the old man's decease, and keeping watch through its long and silent hours, might have seen the pale face and stealthy movements of a young man, deep in box and bureau, wholly absorbed in the study of parchment and paper-till, in the grey twilight of early morning-aroused by signs and sounds of the birth of a new day, he ceased his occupation, and putting everything orderly away, he retired to his own sleeping-room. That night he had read and re-read every letter, and copy of letter, from both father and absent brother, and had destroyed every scrap of correspondence of a later date than two years. At the breakfast-table he appeared as usual, and having written to the family solicitor and the trustees, he started for a neighbouring town, to complete the project his brain had conceived.

On the arrival of the trustees they inquired the address of the heir, but was told that the elder brother died two years ago in an obscure village in the Province of Limousin, in France, that this information had been brought to his late father by a foreigner who had resided, till lately, in a town two miles distant, and that having had no communication from the absent one during that time, they had concluded the information to be correct.

On examining the papers of the deceased, this statement was fully corroborated, the last letter from the missing son being dated fully two years back, and being written from a neighbouring province to the one named. The reading of the will proved the estate to have been entailed, and the elder son having never married, the younger one was put in possession as the rightful heir.

After enjoying the estate for several years, the gentleman was visited one day by a wretched looking object, who claimed hospitality, on the score that he was his long lost brother. He was repulsed with scorn, told that he was an imposter, and that the person he represented himself to be, had been dead for years, which could be proved by a witness.

The poor fellow, being utterly destitute, knew not what to do for the best. He went round the circle of his friends in former years, but no one could advise or assist him; indeed, they could scarcely recognise him. At length he thought of a solicitor who had befriended him in happier times, and to him he went with pitiful story.

His friend pointed out to him the difficulties of his case, told him his brother was a man of much influence in the county, and that he was sure he would spare no expense in resisting his claim; and, that as he had no means for carrying on a legal contest, the odds were fearfully against him. After repeated importunities, the lawyer agreed to undertake his case, on the condition, that if successful he should receive one thousand guineas.

To this the poor man gladly assented. Accordingly, the lawyer entered an action against the younger brother, and the cause was to be heard at the next general assizes at Chelmsford, in Essex.

Having thus declared war against his powerful neighbour, the lawyer was determined, if possible, to carry it to a successful issue. Knowing well the justice of his cause and the unprincipled conduct of his opponent, he was resolved to spare neither trouble nor expense to gain his suit.