Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/657

Rh toilet implement, unique in form and function. This is a real comb, which might well have served the inventor of our own combs for a model, its chief difference being that it is permanently attached to the limb that operates it. It has a short handle, a stiff back, and a regularly toothed edge. It is set into the apical end of the tibia of the fore legs, upon which it articulates freely, thus giving the owner the power to apply it to various organs. Placed along the edge are sixty-five teeth of equal length, except towards the apex, where they are shorter. They are pointed at the free end and enlarged at the base, are stiff but elastic, and spring back when bent, as do the teeth of a comb.

The efficiency of this instrument is greatly increased by an arrangement of the tarsus, opposite whose base it is placed. That part of the leg is so shaped that the curved outlines of the tibial spur when pushed up against it fit into it. It is furnished with forty-five teeth, coarser and more open than those just described. Thus ants have the useful arrangement of fine and coarse toothed combs which for toilet uses we unite in one instrument. A further contribution to the toilet paraphernalia is a secondary spur, a simpler form of that on the fore legs, set upon the tibiae of the second and third pairs of legs. Moreover, the mandibles, or upper jaws, which are palm-shaped and serrated, are used freely, especially in cleaning the legs, which are drawn through them. In this action there is a salivary secretion that moistens the members, and furnishes a good substitute for those "washes" which are valued by men and women as softening the hair and making it more pliable. Indeed, one might almost conjecture that it is also the emmet equivalent for our toilet soaps!

There are no pastes and powders among these toilet articles—at least as far as known,—but the repertoire, it will be seen, is tolerably complete: fine-tooth combs, coarse or "reddin combs, hairbrushes and sponges, washes and soap!—and all so conveniently attached to the body and working-limbs, which are arms as well as legs, that they are always literally "on hand" for service.

Ants have no set time for brushing up. But certain conditions plainly incite thereto—as when they feel particularly comfortable, as after eating, or after awaking from or before going to sleep. The keen sense of discomfort aroused by the presence of dirt incites to cleansing. Often one may see an ant suddenly pause in the midst of the duties of field or formicary and begin to comb herself. Here is a mountain mound-maker driven by the passion of nest-building to the utmost fervor of activity. Suddenly she drops out of the gang of fellow workers, and mounting a near-by clod, poses upon her hind legs and plies teeth, tongue, and comb. For a few moments the aim of being is centred upon that act. Around her coign of vantage sweeps to and fro the bustling host of builders with all their energies bent upon reconstructing their ruined city. She combs on unconcernedly. From top of head to tip of