story. But I must abandon the idea. The Water
Spider is not found in my district. The Mygale, the expert in hinged
doors, is found there, but very seldom. I saw one once, on the edge of a
path skirting a copse. Opportunity, as we know, is fleeting. The
observer, more than any other, is obliged to take it by the forelock.
Preoccupied as I was with other researches, I but gave a glance at the
magnificent subject which good fortune offered. The opportunity fled and
has never returned.

Let us make up for it with trivial things of frequent encounter, a
condition favourable to consecutive study. What is common is not
necessarily unimportant. Give it our sustained attention and we shall
discover in it merits which our former ignorance prevented us from
seeing. When patiently entreated, the least of creatures adds its note
to the harmonies of life.

In the fields around, traversed, in these days, with a tired step, but
still vigilantly explored, I find nothing so often as the Labyrinth
Spider (_Agelena labyrinthica_, CLERCK.). Not a hedge but shelters a few
at its foot, amidst grass, in quiet, sunny nooks. In the open country
and especially in hilly places laid bare by the wood-man's axe, the
favourite sites are tufts of bracken, rock-rose, lavender, everlasting
and rosemary cropped close by the teeth of the flocks. This is where I
resort, as the isolation and kindliness of the supports lend themselves
to proceedings which might not be tolerated by the unfriendly hedge.

Several times a week, in July, I go to study my Spiders on the spot, at
an early hour, before the sun beats fiercely on one's neck. The children
accompany me, each provided with an orange wherewith to slake the thirst
that will not be slow in coming. They lend me their good eyes and supple
limbs. The expedition promises to be fruitful.

We soon discover high silk buildings, betrayed at a distance by the
glittering threads which the dawn has converted into dewy rosaries. The
children are wonderstruck at those glorious chandeliers, so much so that
they forget their oranges for a moment. Nor am I, on my part,
indifferent. A splendid spectacle indeed is that of our Spider's
labyrinth, heavy with the tears of the night and lit up by the first rays
of the sun. Accompanied as it is by the Thrushes' symphony, this alone
is worth getting up for.

Half an hour's heat; and the magic jewels disappear with the dew. Now is
the moment to inspect the