74 
NATURE’S CRAFTSMEN 
cannot break through. The world is not yet a 
safe place for little spiderlings; their mother has 
builded wisely and well. 
“ However, a day does come when the sun 
shines upon the satiny nest with such heat that 
the threads shrivel and burst. Like a ripened 
seed pod it splits open with a pop, and the little 
creatures are thrown out into the world with 
scant warning. They are in an awful commo¬ 
tion, of course, all mixed up higglety-pigglety 
with down in their eyes and their legs intertan- 
gled. But they manage to get free, and then 
what do they do? Each one mounts a weed stalk, 
or a hummock of earth, and begins to spin a little 
thread. When this gets strong enough to bear 
his weight, the little adventurer embarks on his 
extemporaneous flying-machine, and is off to see 
the world. Next spring I hope we shall have the 
good fortune to locate a band of these little aero¬ 
nauts.” 
s. 
