downward. The spider goes to the sur- 

 face and obtains a small quantity of air, 

 which she carries to her nest. She con- 

 tinues doing this until the cell is filled 

 with air. It then serves as her living- 

 room, nursery and dining-room. She 

 spins within it a tiny cocoon from which 

 a hundred spiders emerge to spend their 

 infancy in this cunning 1 little home. The 

 spider is a true philanthropist, being 

 without reservation a friend to our race, 



destroying millions of noxious insects 

 and requiring from us no compensations 

 for her labor." 



"Well, well, here we are at home and 

 no doubt you are tired of my long disser- 

 tation on spiderology," laughed Morris. 



"Far from it, I have had a most profit- 

 able morning and shall never again see 

 a spider without remembering how wise, 

 skillful and industrious the little crea- 

 tures really are." 



Carrie May Ashton. 



STRANGE FOOD. 



The nests, which furnish the material 

 for that celebrated delicacy of Chinese 

 culinary art, bird's nest soup, are not the 

 every-day affair of twigs, grass, leaves, 

 etc., which we commonly associate w T ith 

 the name, but they are very remarkable 

 and unique productions in the bird build- 

 ing line. The birds who make them are 

 the two varieties of esculent swallows 

 inhabiting the Sunda islands, Ceylon, 

 Borneo, and Java. 



They build close to the sides of caver- 

 nous cliffs, much after the fashion of 

 the common swallow and her mud hab- 

 itation. The nests are composed entirely 

 of a sticky fluid secreted by two glands 

 under the bird's tongue. These glands 

 become greatly distended at the approach 

 of building time, and give out their pecu- 

 liar fluid upon the slightest pressure. 

 The tongue acts like the spinnerets of 

 the spider, and the feathered builder 

 pressing this member against the rock 

 which serves as a support, backs away a 

 few paces and draws out a long, gummy 

 thread, which dries and hardens rapidly. 

 This she forms into a sort of web by 

 turning her head from side to side, thus 

 making the undulating lines that appear 

 in these curious structures. The nest, 

 when completed, resembles in shape and 



size a hen's egg quartered lengthwise. 



The gathering of these nests is a regu- 

 lar industry, but also one of great diffi- 

 culty and danger. The men undertaking 

 it usually dwell in one of the caves. 

 Their method of work is to fix a rattan 

 ladder to the end of a long pole and 

 wedge it against the rock. Two men then 

 climb the ladder, one carrying a four- 

 pronged spear with a lighted candle fixed 

 a few inches below the prongs. By the 

 light of this candle a suitable nest is 

 selected, and transfixed with the prongs. 

 A slight twist then detaches it unbroken 

 from the rock. The spear is now with- 

 drawn until its head is within reach of 

 the second man, who deftly removes the 

 nest from the prong point and drops it 

 into a pouch tied about his waist. The 

 nests of best quality are bound in pack- 

 ages with strips of rattan while those of 

 inferior grade are simply strung 

 together. Many caves in the north of 

 Borneo have been worked for generations 

 without any apparent diminution in their 

 yield. Three crops are taken in a year. 



The Chinese, who are the only ones 

 who use these nests for food, buy the 

 whole supply, perhaps about twenty-five 

 tons annually, at prices ranging from five 

 to thirty-five dollars per pound. 



Louise Jamison. 



