CHAPTER XIV. 
FACTS AND THOUGHTS ABOUT SPIDERS. 
Some time ago, while turning over a quantity of 
rubbish in a little-used room, I disturbed a large 
black spider. Rushing forth, just in time to save 
itself from destruction through the capsizing of a 
pile of books, it paused for one moment, took a 
swift comprehensive glance at the position, then 
scuttled away across the floor, and was lost in an 
obscure corner of the room. This incident served 
to remind me of a fact I was nearly forgetting, that 
England is not a spiderless country. A foreigner, 
however intelligent, coming from warmer regions, 
might very easily make that mistake. In Buenos 
Ayres, the land of my nativity, earth teems with 
these interesting little creatures. They abound in 
and on the water, they swarm in the grass and 
herbage, which everywhere glistens with the silvery 
veil they spin over it. Indeed it is scarcely an 
exaggeration to say that there is an atmosphere of 
spiders, for they are always floating about invisible 
in the air; theit filmy threads are unfelt when they 
fly against you; and often enough you are not even 
aware of the little arrested aeronaut hurrying over 
your face with feet lighter than the lightest thistle- 
down. 
