The Life of the Spider 



cages is caught in the cords of the great 

 entrance-hall. The Spider arrives hurriedly, 

 snatches the giddy-pate and disjoints his 

 shanks, which she empties of their contents, the 

 best part of the insect. The remainder of the 

 carcass is afterwards drained more or less, ac- 

 cording to her appetite at the time. The meal 

 is taken outside the guard-room, on the 

 threshold, never indoors. 



These are not capricious mouthfuls, serv- 

 ing to beguile the boredom of the watch for 

 a brief while; they are substantial repasts, 

 which require several sittings. Such an ap- 

 petite astonishes me, after I have seen the 

 Crab Spider, that no less ardent watcher, 

 refuse the Bees whom I give her and allow 

 herself to die of inanition. Can this other 

 mother have so great a need as that to eat? 

 Yes, certainly she has; and for an imperative 

 reason. 



At the beginning of her work, she spent a 

 large amount of silk, perhaps all that her 

 reserves contained ; for the double dwelling — 

 for herself and for her offspring — is a huge 

 edifice, exceedingly costly in materials; and 

 yet, for nearly another month, I see her 

 adding layer upon layer both to the walJ of 



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