Wasps, now numerous, are sadly degenerating; they are giving up their useful work of destroying flies, and, lured from the path of virtue by too many sweets, are destroying the ripe fruit. On the tall reeds, whose floral tufts are now at their best, there are swarms of aphides, and scores of wasps crawl amongst and over them, greedily sipping the honey-dew. This does not matter, but when one nearly picks a ripe gooseberry and finds it is but a hollowed-out sham from which the business of an intoxicated wasp protrudes, the rest of the insect buried in the pulp, it is a little annoying. No sooner did the gooseberries ripen than the wasps attacked them, and they take each fruit in turn as it ripens, plums and pears being special favourites. However, these raiders have ceased to be useful members of their communities, and if we slay them we shall not lessen the future stock, for the queens are safe at home.
“E. E. H.,” who has often sent information, picked up at Longnor another kind of wasp, the giant ichneumon, sawfly, or tailed wasp, really one of the wood-boring sawflies, Sirex gigas. He submitted it to a well-known entomologist, who, to my surprise, says he has not come across one in the Buxton district for twenty years. This insect, being large and striking in appearance, is often sent to me for identification, and numbers are found in Manchester and the manufacturing districts of Lancashire, whither they come in timber. It is fairly common in the Delamere country and other parts of Cheshire.
