h eggs is their offspring's
regular food.

Like any other, the Labyrinth Spider dreads the scoundrelly advent of the
pickwallet; she provides for it and, to shield herself against it as far
as possible, chooses a hiding-place outside her dwelling, far removed
from the tell-tale web. When she feels her ovaries ripen, she shifts her
quarters; she goes off at night to explore the neighbourhood and seek a
less dangerous refuge. The points selected are, by preference, the low
brambles dragging along the ground, keeping their dense verdure during
the winter and crammed with dead leaves from the oaks hard by. Rosemary-
tufts, which gain in thickness what they lose in height on the
unfostering rock, suit her particularly. This is where I usually find
her nest, not without long seeking, so well is it hidden.

So far, there is no departure from current usage. As the world is full
of creatures on the prowl for tender mouthfuls, every mother has her
apprehensions; she also has her natural wisdom, which advises her to
establish her family in secret places. Very few neglect this precaution;
each, in her own manner, conceals the eggs she lays.

In the case of the Labyrinth Spider, the protection of the brood is
complicated by another condition. In the vast majority of instances, the
eggs, once lodged in a favourable spot, are abandoned to themselves, left
to the chances of good or ill fortune. The Spider of the brushwood, on
the contrary, endowed with greater maternal devotion, has, like the Crab
Spider, to mount guard over hers until they hatch.

With a few threads and some small leaves joined together, the Crab Spider
builds, above her lofty nest, a rudimentary watch-tower where she stays
permanently, greatly emaciated, flattened into a sort of wrinkled shell
through the emptying of her ovaries and the total absence of food. And
this mere shred, hardly more than a skin that persists in living without
eating, stoutly defends her egg-sack, shows fight at the approach of any
tramp. She does not make up her mind to die until the little ones are
gone.

The Labyrinth Spider is better treated. After laying her eggs, so far
from becoming thin, she preserves an excellent appearance and a round
belly. Moreover, she does not lose her appetite and is always prepared
to bleed a Locust. She therefore requires a dwelling with a hunting-box
close to the eggs watched over. We know this dwelling, built in strict
accordance with art