COCOON LIFE AND BABYHOOD. 221 



One of the young ladies in the natural history class of the school wrote 

 and published in the "Ogontz Mosaic" a versified account of the above 

 colony, which I venture to add, as a pleasant dcscrij)tion of and hap[)y 

 comment upon the incident. Ft may at least serve to brigliten for a mo- 

 ment the dullness of these pages .of details, and show that one may 

 find a gleam of poetic fancy even in the babyhood of despised Arachne's 

 children. 



THE CniLDKlCN OF THE Sl'IDEH WEB. 



Undeh a .Iack-in-the-j)uli)it'.s caro, 



Where the shafli)ws are deep, ami the sunlifrht rare 



Tenderly kisse.s tlie maiden hair, 



A loving mother made her nest, 



And never did rest 



Till flossy blankets and silken sheet 



Enclosed her eggs in a safe retreat. 



The brood was safe, but the mother dead, 



For love's last act spent life's last thread, 



And the fair cocoon was left to swing 



Till winter's snow dissolved in spring. 



The air was warm and the sunshine soft; 



To and fro the breezes tossed 



The tiny hammock of shining threads, 



Of sliimmering, silvery spider webs. 



Far from the sounds of war and strife 



Were the spider babies wooed to life. 



On one bright day they all awoke. 



Their prison doors they bui'st and broke ; 



And, j)eeping through the bari'iers white. 



Discovered a wonderful world of light. 



With glad surprise they looked around, 



Then a daring one, with a single bound, 



Went dancing down on a tiny thread, 



Making his own little si)ider web. 



Grftceful and airy, 



A real fairy, 

 He entci-ed this new found land of glory. 



The days went by, and the babies grew. 

 Were their pleasures many, their sorrows few? 

 Or within the silken canopy 

 Was there acted out a tragi'dy? 



****** 



Shall we e'er know the source 



Of that wondei-ful force 

 By which the good little mother w'ove 

 Her babies' ci'adle with threads of love ? 

 Why the eggs are laid by the little wife? 

 Mow the sunlight langiis tliem into life? 

 Where the siiadows are deep, and the sunshine rare 

 Tenderly kisses the maiden hair. 

 Beneath the Jack-in-the-pul|>it rest 

 The mysteries of the spider's nest. 



