"Aphides" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... found a hole at its base, and inside, instead of seeds, a hollow filled with plant lice or aphides, that the bees were milking. Here were big black ants, too, and yellow wasps ...
— The Hills of Hingham • Dallas Lore Sharp
... work with that masterpiece of higher geometry, the edifice of the Bee? The Hymenopteron rivals man himself. We build towns, the Bee erects cities; we have servants, the Ant has hers; we rear domestic animals, she rears her sugar-yielding insects; we herd cattle, she herds her milch-cows, the Aphides; we have abolished slavery, ...
— The Mason-bees • J. Henri Fabre
... ant has sense enough to treat the aphis as we treat our cows. Our farmers, you know, keep the cows in enclosed meadows, and supply them with hay and turnips when the grass fails. The ants also take a number of aphides close to their nests, and there keep them secure and supply them ...
— The Nursery, Number 164 - A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers • Various
... themselves, they were always contented with despoiling them of their young. The ant that is attacked is a very cowardly species, and never shows fight. I often found it running about sipping at the glands of leaves, or milking aphides, leaf-hoppers, or scale-insects that it found unattended by other ants. On the approach of another, though of a much smaller species, it would immediately run away. Probably this cowardly and un-antly deposition ...
— The Naturalist in Nicaragua • Thomas Belt
... sugary juice, which the country-people call 'honey-dew,' and in some remote places, where knowledge is limited, it has been thought to come from the clouds. But we, who have learned something about these aphides[1], know that it comes from their little green bodies, and that the ants often carry the insects off to their nests, where they feed and 'tend them for the sake of this very juice. The aphis that infests the willow is the largest of the tribe, and the branches and ...
— Among the Trees at Elmridge • Ella Rodman Church
... bank he lay at rest, Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees, With sweet flesh patterned where the cool turf pressed, Flowerlike crept o'er with emerald aphides. Single he couched there, to his circling flocks Piping at times some happy shepherd's tune, Nude, with the warm wind in his golden locks, And arched with the blue Asian afternoon. Past him, gorse-purpled, to the distant coast Rolled the clear foothills. There his white-walled town, ...
— Poems • Alan Seeger |
