The Life of the Spider 



Punctually as darkness falls, our whole 

 family goes and calls upon her. Big and 

 little, we stand amazed at her wealth of belly 

 and her exuberant somersaults in the maze of 

 quivering ropes; we admire the faultless 

 geometry of the net as it gradually takes 

 shape. All agleam in the lantern-light, the 

 work becomes a fairy orb, which seems woven 

 of moonbeams. 



Should I linger, in my anxiety to clear up 

 certain details, the household, which by this 

 time is in bed, waits for my return before 

 going to sleep : 



'What has she been doing this evening?' 

 I am asked. 'Has she finished her web ? Has 

 she caught a Moth ?' 



I describe what has happened. To-morrow, 

 they will be in a less hurry to go to bed : they 

 will want to see everything, to the very end. 

 What delightful, simple evenings we have 

 spent looking into the Spider's workshop ! 



The journal of the Angular Epeira, 

 written up day by day, teaches us, first of all, 

 how she obtains the ropes that form the 

 frame-work of the building. All day in- 

 visible, crouching amid the cypress-leaves, the 

 Spider, at about eight o'clock in the evening, 



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