THE GRASSHOPPER SPIDER. 



CHARLES CRISTADORO. 



OUT in the garden where the west- 

 ern sun flooded the nasturtiums 

 along the garden wall, a large 

 yellow and black-bodied spider 

 made his lair. The driving rain of the 

 night before had so torn and disar- 

 ranged his web that he had set about 

 building himself a new one lower down. 

 Already he had spun and placed the 

 spokes or bars of his gigantic web and 

 was now making the circles to com- 

 plete his geometric diagram. 



From his tail he exuded a white, 

 sticky substance, which, when stretched, 

 instantly became dry. As he stepped 

 from one spoke to another he would 

 spin out his web and, stretching the 

 spoke towards the preceding one, bring 

 the fresh-spun web in contact with it 

 and then exude upon the jointure an 

 atom of fresh web, which immediately 

 cemented the two parts, when the 

 spoke settled back into place, pulling 

 the cross web straight and taut. 

 The process of house-building contin- 

 ued uninterruptedly, every movement 

 of the spider producing some result. 

 No useless steps were taken, and as 

 the work progressed the uniformity of 

 the work was simply amazing; every 

 square, every cross piece, was placed ex- 

 actly in the same relative position as 

 to distance, etc. A micrometer seem- 

 ingly would not have shown the devia- 

 tion of .000001 of an inch between any 

 two of the squares. 



When the web was three-fourths 

 finished a lusty grasshopper went blun- 

 dering up against one of the yet un- 

 covered spokes of the web and escaped. 

 The spider noticed this and visibly in- 

 creased his efforts and sped from spoke 

 to spoke, trailing his never ending film 

 of silky web behind him. At last the 

 trap was set and, hastening to the 

 center, he quickly covered the point 

 with web after web, until he had a 

 smooth, solid floor with an opening 

 that allowed the tenant to occupy 



either side of the house at will. The 

 spot was well selected, the hoppers in 

 the heat of the day finding the heavy 

 shade of the broad nasturtium leaves 

 particularly grateful. 



Our friend the spider had not long 

 to wait for his breakfast, for presto! — a 

 great, brown-winged hopper flew right 

 into the net. Before he could, with 

 his strong wings and powerful legs, 

 tear the silken gossamer asunder and 

 free himself, like lightning our spider 

 was upon him. In the flash of an eye 

 the grasshopper was actually en- 

 shrouded in a sheet of white film of 

 web, and with the utmost rapidity was 

 rolled over and over by the spider, 

 which used its long legs with the utmost 

 dexterity. Wound in his graveyard 

 suit of white silk, the grasshopper be- 

 came absolutely helpless. His broad 

 wings and sinewy legs were now use- 

 less. The spider retreated to the 

 center of the web and watched the 

 throes of his prey. By much effort 

 the hopper loosed one leg and was 

 bidding fair to kick the net to shreds 

 when the spider made another sally 

 and, putting a fresh coating of sticky 

 web around him, rolled him over once 

 or twice more and left him. 



In a few moments, when all was over, 

 the spider attacked his prey and began 

 his breakfast. Before his meal was 

 well under way, a second hopper flew 

 into the parlor of the spider and, leav- 

 ing his meal, the agile creature soon 

 had hopper number two securely and 

 safely ensnared. No experienced foot- 

 ball tackle ever downed his opponent 

 with any such skill or celerity as the 

 spider displayed as he rolled over and 

 bundled up into a helpless web-covered 

 roll the foolish and careless hopper. 



"The spiders touch, how exquisitely 

 fine ! 

 Feels at each thread, and lives along 

 the line." 



