Arachne and the Poets. 205 



insects enviably free from care ? When out among the 

 heather, or resting some summer's noon under a tree, how 

 happy the small-winged folk, sunning themselves on the 

 flower-heads, seem to be, without, apparently, any troubles 

 or even responsibilities. They zigzag and flutter about as if 

 time and place were nothing to them. This field or the 

 next what does it matter ? Now, or by-and-by ? 



But whenever I hear any one envy the life of flies, I think 

 to myself, " My friend, you have forgotten the spiders" 

 Sunshine and wings and flowers a delightful combination, 

 no doubt. But think of the spiders. It is worth while to 

 do so, for it may turn over quite a new page in nature for you. 



Imagine, for instance, that the insects which you see 

 "dancing" in the air, out of pure light-heartedness, too 

 happy even to sit still on a flower, or even to make their 

 choice on which one they will settle, as you imagine, are 

 afraid to alight. 



Fancy, if you can, that every blossom, every tempting 

 twig, has a hungry spider upon it, and that the flies know it, 

 and dare not rest. What, then, becomes of all their light- 

 heartedness, of the gladsomeness that keeps them so buoy- 

 antly ever on the wing? From every resting-place, bright 

 petal or green leaf, keen, patient eyes are looking out and 

 up at the winged things half-minded to settle and yet afraid. 

 Fangs are working and mumbling together in the excitement 

 of expectation, legs are drawn up all ready to spring and 

 the fly knows it. It hovers over the welcome perch, the 

 tempting honey, but instinct tells it of a peril that is 

 ambushed ; its courage fails it, and, just as you think it is 

 going to settle, it is gone. How "frivolous," " giddy," and 

 all the rest of it, it seems, this fly in the summer's sunshine, 

 dancing from flower to flower, does it not ? But, are you 

 sure that the fly did not see something ? Look close your- 

 self at the purple cushion of that scabious. Nothing? Look 

 closer. Nothing still? Look underneath. Ah? Now, 



