The Life of the Spider 



long slumbers. In their youth, the Epeirae, 

 who are then very wide-awake, know nothing 

 of the art of telegraphy. Besides, their web, 

 a short-lived work whereof hardly a trace re- 

 mains on the morrow, does not allow of this 

 kind of industry. It is no use going to the 

 expense of a signalling-apparatus for a ruined 

 snare wherein nothing can now be caught. 

 Only the old Spiders, meditating or dozing in 

 their green tent, are warned from afar, by 

 telegraph, of what takes place on the web. 



To save herself from keeping a close watch 

 that would degenerate into drudgery and to 

 remain alive to events even when resting, with 

 her back turned on the net, the ambushed 

 Spider always has her foot upon the telegraph- 

 wire. Of my observations on this subject, let 

 me relate the following, which will be suf- 

 ficient for our purpose. 



An Angular Epeira, with a remarkably fine 

 belly, has spun her web between two 

 laurestine-shrubs, covering a width of nearly 

 a yard. The sun beats upon the snare, which 

 is abandoned long before dawn. The Spider 

 is in her day manor, a resort easily discovered 

 by following the telegraph-wire. It is a 

 vaulted chamber of dead leaves, joined to- 



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