The Nar bonne Lycos a 71 



the Domestic Bee, whom she jugulates by biting 

 her in the neck. 



Skilful in the prompt despatch of her prey, 

 the little Crab Spider is no less well- versed in 

 the nesting art. I find her settled on a privet 

 in the enclosure. Here, in the heart of a cluster 

 of flowers, the luxurious creature plaits a little 

 pocket of white satin, shaped like a wee thimble. 

 It is the receptacle for the eggs. A round, flat 

 lid, of a felted fabric, closes the mouth. 



Above this ceiling rises a dome of stretched 

 threads and faded flowerets which have fallen 

 from the cluster. This is the watcher's belve- 

 dere, her conning-tower. An opening, which 

 is always free, gives access to this post. 



Here the Spider remains on constant duty. 

 She has thinned greatly since she laid her eggs, 

 has almost lost her corporation. At the least 

 alarm, she sallies forth, waves a threatening 

 limb at the passing stranger and invites him, 

 with a gesture, to keep his distance. Having 

 put the intruder to flight, she quickly returns 

 indoors. 



And what does she do in there, under her arch 

 of withered flowers and silk ? Night and day. 



