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 till Formica, in a rage, would rush at her and unceremoniously hustle her away.

Arrived at last safely at the citadel with her splendid trophy, Formica seemed to consider her labors for the moment at an end. That gleaming blue bulk was much too heavy for her to drag it up the slope of the dome. She handed it over, with a hasty waving of antennae, to a knot of her comrades, and wandered up the steep slope with the air of one who has earned a bit of leisure but does not quite know what to do with it. She made a tour of the top of the mound, occasionally wandering into one of the entrances, but always coming out again in a few seconds. And every now and then she would stop to touch antennae with an acquaintance. Presently she came face to face with a disheveled friend who was evidently just home from a rough-and-tumble fight of some sort. Weary, wounded, and covered with dirt, the newcomer seemed to convey some sorry tale to Formica, who straightway fell to stroking and cleansing her with every mark of sympathy.

The ant hill, as we have seen at the beginning of this narrative, was partly overhung by the branches of a wild rosebush which grew against the fence. The rosebush at this season was in full bloom, and the pale-pink, golden-centered