220 The Life of the Spider 



obtains the ropes that form the frame-work of 

 the building. All day invisible, crouching amid 

 the cypress-leaves, the Spider, at about eight 

 o'clock in the evening, solemnly emerges from 

 her retreat and makes for the top of a branch. 

 In this exalted position, she sits for some 

 time la5ang her plans with due regard to the 

 locality ; she consults the weather, ascertains 

 if the night will be fine. Then, suddenly, with 

 her eight legs wide-spread, she lets herself drop 

 straight down, hanging to the line that issues 

 from her spinnerets. Just as the rope-maker 

 obtains the even output of his hemp by walking 

 backwards, so does the Epeira obtain the dis- 

 charge of hers by falling. It is extracted by 

 the weight of her body. 



The descent, however, has not the brute 

 speed which the force of gravity would give it, 

 if uncontrolled. It is governed by the action 

 of the spinnerets, which contract or expand 

 their pores, or close them entirely, at the faller's 

 pleasure. And so, with gentle moderation, 

 she pays out this living plumb-line, of which 

 my lantern clearly shows me the plumb, but 

 not always the hne. The great squab seems at 



