THE SPIDER 77 



fastens, as she spins, to each spoke of her wheel, 

 going around and around her circle; drawing nearer 

 and nearer to the center, with perfectly even spaces 

 between her sticky ropes; and taking up the first 

 made spiral as she lays the new one in place. While 

 she spins and fastens her ropes with her hind feet, 

 with her fore feet she picks up her old thread, and 

 rolling it up places it upon the spokes, while her 

 four middle feet carry her about on the web and 

 keep her from falling to the ground. 



Could you do so many things at once? And did 

 you ever think before that a common spider could 

 be so skilful? It is hard for you to do different 

 things with your two hands at once. Suppose you 

 tried to do different things with four pairs of feet 

 and your mouth, how would you succeed? Would 

 your brain tell your hands and feet and mouth just 

 how to do it all perfectly? Yet we think the spider 

 has no brains: we dislike its ugly, fat body, which is 

 really a marvelous little silk mill, and we kill this little 

 creature to whom God has given gifts which we 

 ourselves do not possess. 



Think of the patience of the spider! Spinning 

 night after night her web, for it is the only way she 

 can get her food; and her ropes are so delicate that 

 the web seldom lasts over one day! Yet the spider 

 spins and weaves, spins and weaves, waiting for the 

 breeze to place her thread in the first place, and then 

 going through with every part of her work with as 

 much care and precision as if it were to last always. 



God has given us far more gifts than He has given 

 to the spider. I wonder if we use our gifts as well? 



