i8o THE HAUNTS OF LIFE 



there is the making of the wings and the event- 

 ful emergence from the water. They cannot 

 fly much at first, for they are encumbered by 

 a thin veil too truly suggestive of a shroud. 

 They rest rather wearily on the branches of 

 the willows, and on our clothes, as we watch 



FIG. 17. GARDEN SPIDER (EPEIRA 

 DIADEMA). 



them. We see them writhe and jerk, till at 

 length their last encumbrance, their "ghost," 

 as some entomologists have called it, is thrown 

 off. Then the short aerial life begins; they 

 swing to and fro as in a dance ; they dimple the 



