The Method of the Calicurgi 



of globe-thistle garnished with honey as a 

 refectory for the Pompilus; a couple of Lo- 

 custs, renewed as and when consumed, will 

 sustain the Tarantula. These comfortable 

 quarters, exposed to the sun, receive the two 

 captives under a wire-gauze dome, which 

 provides adequate ventilation for a pro- 

 longed residence. 



My artifices come to nothing; the session 

 closes without result. A day passes, two 

 days, three; still nothing happens. The 

 Pompilus is assiduous in her visits to the 

 honeyed flower-clusters; when she has eaten 

 her fill, she clambers up the dome and makes 

 interminable circuits of the netting; the 

 Tarantula quietly munches her Locust. If 

 the other passes within reach, she swiftly 

 raises herself and waves her off. The arti- 

 ficial burrow, the reed-stump, fulfils its pur- 

 pose excellently. The Lycosa and the Pom- 

 pilus resort to it in turns, but without quar- 

 relling. And that is all. The drama whose 

 prologue was so full of promise appears to 

 be indefinitely postponed. 



I have a last resource, on which I base 

 great hopes: it is to remove my two Cali- 

 curgi to the very site of their investigations 

 and to install them at the door of the 

 Spider's lodging, at the top of the natural 

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