The Burrow 1 1 5 



before long in a shaft of her own construc- 

 tion. 



We are disappointed. Weeks pass and not 

 an effort is made, not one. DemoraHzed by 

 the absence of an ambush, the Lycosa hardly 

 vouchsafes a glance at the game which I serve 

 up. The Crickets pass within her reach in 

 vain ; most often she scorns them. She slowly 

 wastes away with fasting and boredom. At 

 length, she dies. 



Take up your miner's trade again, poor fool ! 

 Make yourself a home, since you know how to, 

 and life will be sweet to you for many a long 

 day yet : the weather is fine and victuals 

 plentiful. Dig, delve, go underground, where 

 safety lies. Like an idiot, you refrain ; and 

 you perish. Why ? 



Because the craft which you were wont to 

 ply is forgotten ; because the days of patient 

 digging are past and your poor brain is unable 

 to work back. To do a second time what has 

 been done already is beyond your wit. For 

 all your meditative air, you cannot solve the 

 problem of how to reconstruct that which is 

 vanished and gone. 



