The Life of the Spider 



sembly be. The whole animal is now covered 

 with a swarming carpet of young, all except 

 the legs, which must preserve their freedom 

 of action, and the under part of the body, 

 where contact with the ground is to be feared. 



My pencil forces a third family upon the al- 

 ready overburdened Spider; and this, too, is 

 peacefully accepted. The youngsters huddle 

 up closer, lie one on top of the other in layers 

 and room is found for all. The Lycosa has 

 lost the last semblance of an animal, has be- 

 come a nameless bristling thing that walks 

 about. Falls are frequent and are followed 

 by continual climbings. 



I perceive that I have reached the limits not 

 of the bearer's good-will, but of equilibrium. 

 The Spider would adopt an indefinite further 

 number of foundlings, if the dimensions of her 

 back afforded them a firm hold. Let us be 

 content with this. Let us restore each family 

 to its mother, drawing at random from the 

 lot. There must necessarily be interchanges, 

 but that is of no importance : real children and 

 adopted children are the same thing in the 

 Lycosa' s eyes. 



One] would like to know if, apart from my 

 artifices, in circumstances where I do not in- 

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