AS REGARDS SPIDERS. 681 



two or three radii spun from its centre, than she continues her labor so 

 quickly and unremittingly that the eye can scarcely follow her prog- 

 ress. The radii, to the number of about twenty, giving the net the 

 appearance of a wheel, are speedily finished. She then proceeds to 

 the centre, quickly turns herself round, and pulls each thread with her 

 feet to ascertain its strength, breaking any one that seems defective 

 and replacing it by another. Next, she glues immediately round the 

 centre five or six small, concentric circles, close to each other, and then 

 four or five larger ones, each separated by a space of half an inch or 

 more. These last serve as a sort of temporary scaffolding to walk 

 over, and to keep the radii properly stretched while she glues to them 

 the concentric circles that are to remain, which she now proceeds to 

 construct. Placing herself at the circumference, and fastening her 

 thread to the end of one of the radii, she walks up that one toward 

 the centre, to such a distance as to draw the thread from her body of 

 a sufficient length to reach to the next ; then stepping across, and con- 

 ducting the thread with one of her hind-feet, she glues it with her 

 spinners to the point in the adjoining radius to which it is to be fixed. 

 This process she repeats until she has filled up nearly the whole space 

 from the circumference to the centre with concentric circles, distant 

 from each other about the sixth of an inch. Besides the main web, 

 the spider sometimes carries up from its edges and surface a number 

 of single threads, often to the height of many feet, joining and cross- 

 ing each other in various directions. Across these lines, which may 

 be compared to the tackling of a ship, flies seem unable to avoid 

 directing their flight. The certain consequence is that, in striking 

 against these ropes, they become slightly entangled, and, in their en- 

 deavors to disengage themselves, rarely escape being precipitated into 

 the net spread underneath for their reception, where their doom is 

 inevitable." 



The weaving-spider that is found in houses having selected a suit- 

 able site, in the same way forms first the margin or selvage of her 

 web. From these she draws other threads, the spaces between which 

 she fills up by running from one to the other, and connecting them by 

 new lines, until the gauze-like texture is formed. The spider seems to 

 be aware that she is no beauty, and had better conceal herself; so she 

 constructs a small silken apartment, completely hidden from view, in 

 which she lies in wait for her victims. But as this is often at a dis- 

 tance from the net, and entirely out of sight of it, how is she to know 

 when an insect is caught ? To meet this emergency, she spins several 

 threads from the edge of the net to that of her hole, which answers as 

 a telegraph by its vibrations, and is a railroad over which she can pass 

 to secure it. 



In their vital physiology spiders are quite as wonderful as in their 

 other characters. We have said that they do not undergo metamor- 

 phoses, like insects, but the common household spider, which we have 



