CHAPTER XIV. 



FACTS AND THOUGHTS ABOUT SPIDERS. 



Some time ago, while turning over a quantity of 

 rubbish in a little-used room, I disturbed a large 

 black spider. Rushing forth, just in time to save 

 itself from destruction through the capsizing of a 

 pile of books, it paused for one moment, took a 

 swift comprehensive glance at the position, then 

 scuttled away across the floor, and was lost in an 

 obscure corner of the room. This incident served 

 to remind me of a fact I was nearly forgetting, that 

 England is not a spiderless country. A foreigner, 

 however intelligent, coming from warmer regions, 

 might very easily make that mistake. In Buenos 

 Ayres, the land of my nativity, earth teems with 

 these interesting little creatures. They abound in 

 and on the water, they swarm in the grass and 

 herbage, which everywhere glistens with the silvery 

 veil they spin over it. Indeed it is scarcely an 

 exaggeration to say that there is an atmosphere of 

 spiders, for they are always floating about invisible 

 in the air ; their filmy threads are unfelt when they 

 fly against you ; and often enough you are not even 

 aware of the little arrested aeronaut hurrying over 

 your face with feet lighter than the lightest thistle- 

 down. 



