The Labyrinth Spider 



aggressor persist and seek to raise the trap- 

 door, the recluse pushes the bolt, that is to say, 

 plants her claws into certain holes on the op- 

 posite side to the hinge, props herself against 

 the wall and holds the door firmly. 



Another, the Argyroneta, or Water Spider, 

 builds herself an elegant silken diving-bell, in 

 which she stores air. Thus supplied with the 

 wherewithal to breathe, she awaits the com- 

 ing of the game and keeps herself cool mean- 

 while. At times of scorching heat, hers must 

 be a regular sybaritic abode, such as eccentric 

 man has sometimes ventured to build under 

 water, with mighty blocks of stone and 

 marble. The submarine palaces of Tiberius 

 are no more than an odious memory; the 

 Water Spider's dainty cupola still flourishes. 



If I possessed documents derived from per- 

 sonal observation, I should like to speak of 

 these ingenious workers; I would gladly add 

 a few unpublished facts to their life-history. 

 But I must abandon the idea. The Water 

 Spider is not found in my district. The 

 Mygale, the expert in hinged doors, is found 

 there, but very seldom. I saw one once, on 

 the edge of a path skirting a copse. Oppor- 

 tunity, as we know, is fleeting. The observer, 

 331 



