mmy
moisture wherewith they are filled.

In short, the spiral thread is a capillary tube finer than any that our
physics will ever know. It is rolled into a twist so as to possess an
elasticity that allows it, without breaking, to yield to the tugs of
the captured prey; it holds a supply of sticky matter in reserve in its
tube, so as to renew the adhesive properties of the surface by
incessant exudation, as they become impaired by exposure to the air. It
is simply marvellous.

The Epeira hunts not with springs, but with lime-snares. And such
lime-snares! Everything is caught in them, down to the dandelion-plume
that barely brushes against them. Nevertheless, the Epeira, who is in
constant touch with her web, is not caught in them. Why? Because the
Spider has contrived for herself, in the middle of her trap, a floor in
whose construction the sticky spiral thread plays no part. There is
here, covering a space which, in the larger webs, is about equal to the
palm of one's hand, a neutral fabric in which the exploring straw finds
no adhesiveness anywhere.

Here, on this central resting-floor, and here only, the Epeira takes
her stand, waiting whole days for the arrival of the game. However
close, however prolonged her contact with this portion of the web, she
runs no risk of sticking to it, because the gummy coating is lacking,
as is the twisted and tubular structure, throughout the length of the
spokes and throughout the extent of the auxiliary spiral. These pieces,
together with the rest of the framework, are made of plain, straight,
solid thread.

But when a victim is caught, sometimes right at the edge of the web,
the Spider has to rush up quickly, to bind it and overcome its attempts
to free itself. She is walking then upon her network; and I do not find
that she suffers the least inconvenience. The lime-threads are not even
lifted by the movements of her legs.

In my boyhood, when a troop of us would go, on Thursdays (The weekly
half-day in French schools.--Translator's Note.), to try and catch a
Goldfinch in the hemp-fields, we used, before covering the twigs with
glue, to grease our fingers with a few drops of oil, lest we should get
them caught in the sticky matter. Does the Epeira know the secret of
fatty substances? Let us try.

I rub my exploring straw with slightly oiled paper. When applied to the
spiral thread of the web, it now no longer sticks to it. The principle
is discovered. I pull out the leg of