97 *^® moth and the candle 



delicate operation precisely, no doubt, as her ancestors had 

 performed it millions of times dm'ing millions of springs. 

 On the horizon the lights of town were just visible. In all 

 that town few knew about, perhaps none had ever seen, 

 the strange actions of this silent moth without whom the 

 tall spires of flowers would never conceive their seeds and 

 without whom, therefore, the whole race of yuccas would 

 gradually die out. It was for the almost invisible moth, not 

 for you or me or any aesthetically appreciative human 

 spectator, that the great masses of flowers were lifted high. 



As little Pronuba moved her head back and forth I re- 

 membered the question once asked by the American 

 essayist Charles D. Stewart after he had described what 

 looked like a remarkably purposeful action on the part of 

 a spider who suddenly cut the main cable of his web and 

 thereby sent flying an intruder of another species with 

 designs upon an insect caught in the owner's web. "Is it 

 God who is doing these things," Stewart asked, "or is it 

 a spider?" 



Fabre would have answered without hesitation, "God." 

 Most biologists, would reply with equal assurance, 

 "Neither." But few are willing to admit what seems to me 

 not wholly improbable — namely that the spider himself 

 had something to do with it. 



