xiv The Life of the Spider 



rare ; and, as it happens, a single string of them, 

 five or six yards long, has just climbed down 

 from my umbrella-pines and is at this moment 

 unfolding itself in the walks of my garden, 

 carpeting the ground traversed with transparent 

 silk, according to the custom of the race. To 

 say nothing of the meteorological apparatus of 

 unparalleled delicacy which they carry on their 

 backs, these caterpillars, as everybody knows, 

 have this remarkable quality, that they travel 

 only in a troop, one after the other, like 

 Breughel's blind men or those of the parable, 

 each of them obstinately, indissolubly following 

 its leader ; so much so that, our author having 

 one morning disposed the file on the edge of a 

 large stone vase, thus closing the circuit, for 

 seven whole days, during an atrocious week, 

 amidst cold, hunger and unspeakable weari- 

 ness, the unhappy troop on its tragic round, 

 without rest, respite or mercy, pursued the 

 pitiless circle until death overtook it. 



5 



But I see that our heroes are infinitely too 

 numerous and that we must not linger over 



I 



