The Life of the Spider 



pines and is at this moment unfolding itself 

 in the walks of my garden, carpeting the 

 ground traversed with transparent silk, ac- 

 cording to the custom of the race. To say 

 nothing of the meteorological apparatus of 

 unparalleled delicacy which they carry on their 

 backs, these caterpillars, as everybody knows, 

 have this remarkable quality, that they travel 

 only in a troop, one after the other, like 

 Breughel's blind men or those of the parable, 

 each of them obstinately, indissolubly follow- 

 ing its leader; so much so that, our author 

 having one morning disposed the file on the 

 edge of a large stone vase, thus closing the 

 circuit, for seven whole days, during an atro- 

 cious week, amidst cold, hunger and un- 

 speakable weariness, the unhappy troop on its 

 tragic round, without rest, respite or mercy, 

 pursued the pitiless circle until death overtook 

 it. 



But I see that our heroes are infinitely too 

 numerous and that we must not linger over 

 our descriptions. We may at most, in enu- 

 merating the more important and familiar, 



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