COCOON LIFE AND BABYHOOr). 221 



One of the young ladies in the natural history class of the school wrote 

 and i)ublished in tlie " Ogontz Mosaic" a versified account of the above 

 colony, which I venture to add, as a pleasant description of and hajip}' 

 comment uiion the incident. It may at least serve to brighten for a mo- 

 ment the dullness of these pages of details, and sliow that one may 

 find a gleam of' poetic fancy even in the babyhood of despised Arachne's 

 children. 



THE CHILDREN OF THE SPIDER WEB. 



Under a .Tack-in-tlu'-iiulpit's care, 



Wliere tlie shadows are deep, and the suiihiflit rare 



Tenderly kisses the maiden hair, 



A Inviiif; mother made her nest. 



And never (Ud rest 



Till Hcissy blankets and silken sheet 



Kneliised her eggs in a safe retreat. 



The brood was safe, but the mother dead. 



For love's last act spent life's last thread. 



And the fair cocoon was left to swing 



Till winter's snow dissolved in spring. 



The air was warm and the sunshine soft; 



To and fro the breezes tossed 



The tiny hanmiock of shining threads, 



Of shinuiiering, silvery spider webs. 



Far from the sounds of war and strife 



AVere the spider babies wooed to life. 



On one bright day they all awoke. 



Their prison doors they burst and broke ; 



And, peeping through tlie barriers white. 



Discovered a wonderful world of light. 



With glad surjirise they looked around, 



Then a daring one, with a single bound, 



Went dancing down on a tiny thread. 



Making his own little spider web. 



Graceful and airy, 



A real fairy. 

 He entered this new found laud of glory. 



The days went by, and the babies grew. 

 Were their pleasures many, their sorrows few? 

 Or within the silken canopy 

 Was there actA-d out a tragedy? 



* * * * » * 



Shall we e'er know the s(jurce 



Of that wonderful force 

 By which the good little mother wove 

 Her babies' cradle with threads of love ? 

 Why the eggs are laid by the little wife? 

 How the sunlight laughs them into life ? 

 Where the shadows are deejj, and the sunshine rare 

 Tenderly kisses the maiden hair. 

 Beneath the Jack-in-the-pulpit rest 

 The mysteries of the spider's nest. 



