THE SPIDER 



Sometimes in the corners of our rooms and in 

 many places out of doors — in the grass, on the 

 bushes, about the fences, and behind the bUnds — 

 Uttle creatures hve that weave houses out of pure 

 white silk, a silk so fine and delicate that it can 

 easily be torn by the touch of our fingers. 



Who are these little silk spinners? Yes, they are 

 spiders, little creatures which we are apt to step 

 upon and kill just because they are spiders. We 

 feel as if we were untidy and careless when we see 

 cobwebs, as we call the little silken house of the 

 spider, in our rooms, or about our houses. But ex- 

 cept that the spider's house may seem untidy, the 

 spider itself does us no harm. She does not trouble 

 us, she only catches the flies and mosquitoes which 

 come into our rooms and which we do not want there. 



Have you ever seen a spider sitting within the 

 doorway of her house, watching with her eight 

 bright, black eyes to see if a fly will alight upon her 

 web? Flies do so alight, and when they do, they 

 seem never able to get away again. What does the 

 spider do to keep them there? And why can she 

 run so swiftly over the same silk carpet that holds 

 the fly's feet so fast? If you will look very carefully 

 you will see the finest of silk threads running back 

 and forth above the carpet. They are all criss- 



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