han
ever. Her fresh colour, her robust appearance suggest great length of
life, capable of producing a second family. On this subject I have but
one document, a pretty far-reaching one, however. There were a few
mothers whose actions I had the patience to watch, despite the wearisome
minutiae of the rearing and the slowness of the result. These abandoned
their dwellings after the departure of their young; and each went to
weave a new one for herself on the wire net-work of the cage.
They were rough-and-ready summaries, the work of a night. Two hangings,
one above the other, the upper one flat, the lower concave and ballasted
with stalactites of grains of sand, formed the new home, which,
strengthened daily by fresh layers, promised to become similar to the old
one. Why does the Spider desert her former mansion, which is in no way
dilapidated--far from it--and still exceedingly serviceable, as far as
one can judge? Unless I am mistaken, I think I have an inkling of the
reason.
The old cabin, comfortably wadded though it be, possesses serious
disadvantages: it is littered with the ruins of the children's nurseries.
These ruins are so close-welded to the rest of the home that my forceps
cannot extract them without difficulty; and to remove them would be an
exhausting business for the Clotho and possibly beyond her strength. It
is a case of the resistance of Gordian knots, which not even the very
spinstress who fastened them is capable of untying. The encumbering
litter, therefore, will remain.
If the Spider were to stay alone, the reduction of space, when all is
said, would hardly matter to her: she wants so little room, merely enough
to move in! Besides, when you have spent seven or eight months in the
cramping presence of those bedchambers, what can be the reason of a
sudden need for greater space? I see but one: the Spider requires a
roomy habitation, not for herself--she is satisfied with the smallest
den--but for a second family. Where is she to place the pockets of eggs,
if the ruins of the previous laying remain in the way? A new brood
requires a new home. That, no doubt, is why, feeling that her ovaries
are not yet dried up, the Spider shifts her quarters and founds a new
establishment.
The facts observed are confined to this change of dwelling. I regret
that other interests and the difficulties attendant upon a long
upbringing did not allow me to pursue the question and definitely to
settle
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