The Narbonne Lycosa 



neglected. No more lying in wait, no more 

 Bees drained to the last drop of blood. 

 Motionless, rapt in meditation, the Spider is 

 in an incubating posture, in other words, she 

 is sitting on her eggs. Strictly speaking, the 

 word 'incubating' means that and nothing 

 else. 



The brooding Hen is no more assiduous, 

 but she is also a heating-apparatus and, with 

 the gentle warmth of her body, awakens the 

 germs to life. For the Spider, the heat of the 

 sun suffices; and this alone keeps me from 

 saying that she 'broods.' 



For two or three weeks, more and more 

 wrinkled by abstinence, the little Spider never 

 relaxes her position. Then comes the hatch- 

 ing. The youngsters stretch a few threads 

 in swing-like curves from twig to twig. The 

 tiny rope-dancers practise for some days in 

 the sun; then they disperse, each intent upon 

 his own affairs. 



Let us now look at the watch-tower of the 

 nest. The mother is still there, but this time 

 lifeless. The devoted creature has known 

 the delight of seeing her family born; she has 

 assisted the weaklings through the trap-door; 

 and, when her duty was done, very gently she 



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