The Clotho Spider 



And how? Once more with hanging strings 

 of sand. In a few nights, the silk bag bristles 

 with a long, thick beard of stalactites, a 

 curious piece of work, excellently adapted to 

 maintain the web in an unvaried curve. Even 

 so are the cables of a suspension-bridge 

 steadied by the weight of the superstructure. 



Later, as the Spider goes on feeding, the 

 remains of the victuals are embedded in the 

 wall, the sand is shaken and gradually drops 

 away and the home resumes its charnel-house 

 appearance. This brings us to the same con- 

 clusion as before: the Clotho knows her 

 statics; by means of additional weights, she is 

 able to lower the centre of gravity and thus to 

 give her dwelling the proper equilibrium and 

 capacity. 



Now what does she do in her softly-wadded 

 home? Nothing, that I know of. With a 

 full stomach, her legs luxuriously stretched 

 over the downy carpet, she does nothing, 

 thinks of nothing; she listens to the sound of 

 earth revolving on its axis. It is not sleep, 

 still less is it waking; it is a middle state where 

 naught prevails save a dreamy consciousness 

 of well-being. We ourselves, when comfort- 

 ably in bed, enjoy, just before we fall asleep, 

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