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Project Gutenberg's My Studio Neighbors,by William Hamilton Gibson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.. You may copy it, g

Project Gutenberg's My Studio Neighbors,

by William Hamilton Gibson

This eBook is for the use of anyone

anywhere at no cost and with

almost no restrictions whatsoever You may copy it, give it away or

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Title: My Studio Neighbors

Author: William Hamilton Gibson

Release Date: July 28, 2007 [EBook #22165] Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

MY STUDIO NEIGHBORS ***

Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Janet Blenkinship and the

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book cover

MY STUDIO NEIGHBORS

BY

Copyright, 1897, by Harper & Brothers.

All rights reserved.

Transcriber note: Page

132 has wide margins toaccommodate theillustration

Page

A Familiar Guest 3

The Cuckoos and

the Outwitted

European

Cuckoo

24

Warbler 44

A Blighted

Home 46The Normal

The Spider

Victim 70

94

a Flower 109Historical

Andromeda

128

Collinsonia 135Cross-

Bulbosa 177The

fertilization

A FAMILIAR GUEST

olitude! Where under trees and sky shall

you find it? Themore solitary therecluse and themore confirmed and grounded hisseclusion, the wider and more familiarbecomes the circle of his socialenvironment, until at length, like a verydryad of old, the birds build and sing inhis branches and the "wee wild beasties"nest in his pockets If he fails to be aware

of the fact, more's the pity His desolation

is within, not without, in spite of, notbecause of, his surroundings

Here in my country studio—not ahermitage, 'tis true, but secluded amongtrees, some distance isolated from my own

home and out of sight of any other—whatcompany! What occasional "tumultuousprivacy" is mine! I have frequently beenobliged to step out upon the porch andrequest a modulation of hilarity and amore courteous respect for my hospitality.But this is evidently entirely a matter ofpoint of view, and, judging from theeffects of my protests at such times, myassumed superior air of condescension isapparently construed as a huge joke If theresultant rejoinder of wild volapük andexpressive pantomime has anysignificance, it is plain that I am desired tounderstand that my exact status is that of asquatter on contested territory.

There are those snickering squirrels, forinstance! At this moment two of them are

having a rollicking game of tag on theshingled roof—a pandemonium ofscrambling, scratching, squealing, andgrowling—ever and anon clamberingdown at the eaves to the top of a blind andpeeping in at the window to see how I likeit.

A woodchuck is perambulating my porch

—he was a moment ago—presumably inrenewed quest of that favorite pabulummore delectable than rowen clover, thesplintered cribbings from the legs of acertain pine bench, which, up to date, hehas lowered about three inches—aprocess in which he has consideredaverage rather than symmetry, or thecomfort of the too trusting visitor whohappens to be unaware of his carpentry

The drone of bees and the carol of birdsare naturally an incessant accompaniment

to my toil—at least, in these spring andsummer months The tall, straight flue ofthe chimney, like the deep diapason of anorgan, is softly murmurous with the flurry

of the swifts in their afternoon or vesperflight There is a robin's nest close by onewindow, a vireo's nest on a forkeddogwood within touch of the porch, andcontinual reminders of similar snuggeries

of indigo-bird, chat, and oriole withinclose limits, to say nothing of an ants' nestnot far off, whose proximity is soonmanifest as you sit in the grass—andimmediately get up again

Fancy a wild fox for a daily entertainment!For several days in succession last year I

spent a half-hour observing his friskygambols on the hillside across the dinglebelow my porch, as he jumped apparentlyfor mice in the sloping rowen-field Howquickly he responded to my slightestinterruption of voice or footfall, running tothe cover of the alders!

The little red-headed chippy, the mostfamiliar and sociable of our birds, ofcourse pays me his frequent visit, hopping

in at the door and picking up I don't knowwhat upon the floor A barn-swallowoccasionally darts in through the openwindow and out again at the door, asthough for very sport, only a few dayssince skimming beneath my nose, while itswings fairly tipped the pen with which Iwas writing The chipmonk has long made

himself at home, and his scratchingfootsteps on my door-sill, or even in mycloset, is a not uncommon episode Nowand then through the day I hear a soft pat-pat on the hard-wood floor, at intervals of

a few seconds, and realize that my pettoad, which has voluntarily taken up itsabode in an old bowl on the closet floor,

is taking his afternoon outing, and with hisalways seemingly inconsistent lightningtongue is picking up his casual flies atthree inches sight around the base-board

A mouse, I see, has heaped a neat littlepile of seeds upon the top of the wainscotnear by—cherry pits, polygonum, andragweed seeds, and others, includingsome small oak-galls, which I find havebeen abstracted from a box of specimens

which I had stored in the closet for keeping I wonder if it is the same littlefellow that built its nest in an old shoe inthe same closet last year, and, among othermischief, removed the white grub in asimilar lot of specimen galls which I alsomissed, and subsequently found in theshoe and scattered on the closet floor?

safe-I have mentioned the murmur of the bees,but the incessant buzzing of flies andwasps is an equally prominent sound.Then there is the occasional sortie of thedragon-fly, making his gauzy, skimmingcircuit about the room, or suggestivelybobbing around against wall or ceiling;and that occasional audible episode of thestifled, expiring buzz of a fly, which is tooplainly in the toils of Arachne up yonder!

For in one corner of my room I boast of aprize dusty "cobweb," as yet spared fromthe household broom, a gossamer arena oftwo years' standing, which makes a densespan of a length of about two feet from aclump of dried hydrangea blossoms to thesill of a transom-window, and which, ofcourse, somewhere in its dusty spread,tapers off into a dark tunnel, where lurksthe eight-eyed schemer, "o'erlooking allhis waving snares around."

Sooner or later, it would seem, every tooconstant buzzing visitor encroaches on itsdomain, and is drawn to its silken vortex,and is eventually shed below as a clean

dried specimen; for this is an agalena

spider, which dispenses with the

winding-sheet of the field species—epeira and

argiope Last week a big bumble-bee-like

fly paid me a visit and suddenlydisappeared To-day I find him dried andready for the insect-pin and the cabinet onthe window-sill beneath the web, whichaffords at all times its liberalentomological assortment—Coleoptera,Hymenoptera, Diptera, and Lepidoptera.Many are the rare specimens which I havepicked from these charnel remnants of myspider net

Ah, hark! The talking "robber-fly"

(Asilus), with his nasal, twangy buzz!

"Waiow! Wha-a-ar are ye?" he seems to

say, and with a suggestive onslaughtagainst the window-pane, which betokenshis satisfied quest, is out again at thewindow with a bluebottle-fly in the clutch

of his powerful legs, or perhaps impaled

on his horny beak

Solitude! Not here Amid such continualdistraction and entertainmentconcentration on the immediate task inhand is not always of easyaccomplishment

Last week, after a somewhat distractedmorning with some queer beguiling littleharlequins on the bittersweet-vine about

my porch, of which I have previouslywritten, I had finally settled down to mywork, and was engaged in putting thefinishing touches upon a long-delayeddrawing, when a new visitor claimed myattention—a small hornet, which alightsupon the window-sill within half a yardfrom my face To be sure, she was nostranger here at my studio—even nowthere are two of her yonder beneath thespider-nest—and was, moreover, an oldfriend, whose ways were perfectlyfamiliar to me; but this time the insectengaged my particular attention because itwas not alone, being accompanied by agreen caterpillar bigger than herself,

which she held beneath her body as shetravelled along on the window-sill so near

my face "So, so! my little wren-wasp, youhave found a satisfactory cranny at last,and have made yourself at home I haveseen you prying about here for a week andwondered where you would take up yourabode."

The insect now reaches the edge of thesill, and, taking a fresh grip on her burden,starts off in a bee-line across my drawing-board and towards the open door, anddisappears Wondering what herwhimsical destination might be, my eyeinvoluntarily began to wander about theroom in quest of nail-holes or otheravailable similar crannies, but withoutreward, and I had fairly settled back to my

work and forgotten the incident, when thesame visitor, or another just like her,again appeared, this time clearing thewindow-sill in her flight, and landingdirectly upon my drawing-board, acrosswhich she sped, half creeping, half inflight, and tugging her green caterpillar asbefore—longer than herself—which sheheld beneath her body.

"This time I shall learn your secret," Ithought "Two such challenges as this arenot to be ignored." So I concluded thistime to observe her progress carefully In

a moment she had reached the right-handedge of my easel-board, from which shemade a short flight, and settled upon alarge table in the centre of the room,littered with its characteristic chaos of

professional paraphernalia—brushes,paints, dishes, bottles, color-boxes, andcloths—among which she disappeared Itwas a hopeless task to disclose her, so Iwaited patiently to observe the spot fromwhich she would emerge, assuming thatthis, like the window-sill and my easel,was a mere way-station on her homewardtravels But she failed to appear, while Ibusied my wits in trying to recall which

particular item in the collection had a hole

in it Yes, there was a spool among other

odds and ends in a Japanese boat-basket.That must be it! But on examination thepaper still covered both ends, and I wasagain at a loss What, then, can be theattraction on my table? My wonderingcuriosity was immediately satisfied, for as

I turned back to the board and resumed my

work I soon discovered another wasp,with its caterpillar freight, on thedrawing-board After a moment's pauseshe made a quiet short flight towards thetable, and what was my astonishment toobserve her alight directly upon the tip ofthe very brush which I held in my hand,which, I now noted for the first time, had ahole in its end! In another moment shedisappeared within the cavity, tugging thecaterpillar after her!

A Corner of My Table

My bamboo brushes! I had not thought ofthem! By mere chance a few years since Ihappened upon some of these bamboobrushes in a Japanese shop—large, long-handled brushes, with pure white hairnicely stiffened to a tapering point, whichwas neatly protected with a sheathingcover of bamboo A number of them were

at my elbow, a few inches distant, in aglass of water, and on the table by thevase beyond were a dozen or so in ascattered bundle

Normally each of these brushes is closed

at the end by the natural pith of the

bamboo I now find them all either open

or otherwise tampered with, and thesurrounding surface of the table littered

with tiny balls, apparently of sawdust Ipicked up one of the nearest brushes, andupon inverting it and giving it a slight tap,

a tiny green worm fell out of the opening.From the next one I managed to shake outseven of the caterpillars, while the thirdhad passed beyond this stage, the aperturehaving been carefully plugged with a mudcork, which was even now moist Two orthree others were in the same pluggedcondition, and investigation showed that

no single brush had escaped similartampering to a greater or less extent Onebrush had apparently not given entiresatisfaction, for the plug had beenremoved, and the caterpillars, eight or ten

in number, were scattered about theopening But the dissatisfaction probablylay with one of these caterpillars rather

than with the maternal wasp, who hadapparently failed in the full dose ofanæsthetic, for one of her victims which Iobserved was quite lively, and hadprobably forced out the soft plug, and inhis squirming had ousted his lucklesscompanions.

The caterpillars were all of the same kind,though varying in size, their length beingfrom one-half to three-quarters of an inch

To all appearances they were dead, butmore careful observation revealed signs

of slight vitality Recognizing the species

as one which I had long known, from itslarva to its moth, it was not difficult tounderstand how my brushes might thushave been expeditiously packed withthem Not far from my studio door is a

An Animated Brush

small thicket of wild rose, which shouldalone be sufficient to account for all thosevictimized caterpillars This species is aregular dependent on the rose, dwellingwithin its cocoon-like canopy of leaves,which are drawn together with a fewsilken webs, and in which it is commonlyconcealed by day A little persuasion uponeither end of its leafy case, however, soonbrings the little tenant to view as hewriggles out, backward or forward, as thecase may be, and in a twinkling, spider-like, hangs suspended by a web, whichnever fails him even in the most suddenemergency.

I can readily fancy the tiny hornet making

a commotion at one end of this leafydomicile and the next instant catching the

evicted caterpillar "on a fly" at the other.Grasping her prey with her legs and jaws,

in another moment the wriggling body ispassive in her grasp, subdued by thepotent anæsthetic of her sting—ahypodermic injection which instantlyproduces the semblance of death in itsinsect victim, reducing all the vitalfunctions to the point of dissolution, andthen holds them suspended—literallyprolongs life, it would sometimes seem,even beyond its normal duration—by aprocess which I might call ductileequation This chemical resource iscommon to all the hornets, whether theirvictims be grasshoppers, spiders, cicadæ,

or caterpillars In a condition of helplessstupor they are lugged off to the respectivedens provided for them, and then,