Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/659

Rh The abdomen is then turned under the body and deflected upward towards the head, which at the same time is bent over and downward. The body of the ant thus forms a letter C, or nearly a circle. Meanwhile, the fore feet have clasped the abdomen, the tarsus passing quite around and beneath it, and the brushing has begun. The strokes are directed toward the tip of the abdomen, which is also sponged off by the tongue. Occasionally the leg is rubbed over the head after being drawn through the mouth, and so again to the abdomen. One ant was seen cleansing its abdomen while hanging by the hind legs from the roof of the formicarium. The abdomen was thrown up and between the legs, as a gymnast on the turning-bar throws his body upward between his arms. The head was then reached upward, and tongue and fore feet were engaged as above described. Another emmet acrobat was caught in the act of cleansing its legs while hanging by one foot, the under part of the body being toward the observer.

During these toilet actions the formicarium presented a most interesting view, especially in the evening, when the table-lamps were lit and the ants had been fed, and a general "washing-up" was in progress. But one of the most interesting features was the part which the insects took in cleansing one another. This was a new and pleasing revelation in life habit. It was unexpected, but after-experience showed that nature has taught these little creatures the value of co-operation in such matters among fellow communists. Ants are particularly liable to attack of parasites—a danger increased

by imprisonment. As these enemies pass from one to another, and thus become a common peril, every individual has an interest in the personal health and habits of his neighbors. This is shown in the friendly offices here described. We may easily think of men as saying, "My neighbor's premises are untidy; he lacks the means and the disposition to keep clean; he is infected—what is that to me?" But citizens of an emmet commune are apt to be superior to such selfishness, and seem to feel instinctively—at least so to act—that the pernicious habits and personal misfortunes of the individual highly concern his fellows and the public. Perhaps this is fortified by a natural amiability that delights to give pleasure. And what a pleasure most animals feel in manipulation of the hair and body! The now popular art of massagerie appears to be naturally practised by ants, doubtless antedating by ages the habit of men.

Let us peep into this group snugged up against the warm glass side of the formicary. They have finished their evening meal of sweets; have drunk, after their fashion, by lapping water from moistened wood, and most of them are busy at their toilet. And here is one receiving a sort of Turkish bath! A fore