arest objects, begins by making a shallow saucer
of sufficient thickness to dispense with subsequent corrections. The
process is easily guessed. The tip of the abdomen goes up and down, down
and up with an even beat, while the worker shifts her place a little.
Each time, the spinnerets add a bit of thread to the carpet already made.

When the requisite thickness is obtained, the mother empties her ovaries,
in one continuous flow, into the centre of the bowl. Glued together by
their inherent moisture, the eggs, of a handsome orange-yellow, form a
ball-shaped heap. The work of the spinnerets is resumed. The ball of
germs is covered with a silk cap, fashioned in the same way as the
saucer. The two halves of the work are so well joined that the whole
constitutes an unbroken sphere.

The Banded Epeira and the Silky Epeira, those experts in the manufacture
of rainproof textures, lay their eggs high up, on brushwood and bramble,
without shelter of any kind. The thick material of the wallets is enough
to protect the eggs from the inclemencies of the winter, especially from
damp. The Diadem Epeira, or Cross Spider, needs a cranny for hers, which
is contained in a non-waterproof felt. In a heap of stones, well exposed
to the sun, she will choose a large slab to serve as a roof. She lodges
her pill underneath it, in the company of the hibernating Snail.

More often still, she prefers the thick tangle of some dwarf shrub,
standing eight or nine inches high and retaining its leaves in winter. In
the absence of anything better, a tuft of grass answers the purpose.
Whatever the hiding-place, the bag of eggs is always near the ground,
tucked away as well as may be, amid the surrounding twigs.

Save in the case of the roof supplied by a large stone, we see that the
site selected hardly satisfies proper hygienic needs. The Epeira seems
to realize this fact. By way of an additional protection, even under a
stone, she never fails to make a thatched roof for her eggs. She builds
them a covering with bits of fine, dry grass, joined together with a
little silk. The abode of the eggs becomes a straw wigwam.

Good luck procures me two Cross Spiders' nests, on the edge of one of the
paths in the enclosure, among some tufts of ground-cypress, or lavender-
cotton. This is just what I wanted for my plans. The find is all the
more valuable as the period of the exodus is near at hand.

I prepare two lengths of bamboo, standing ab