ing
of the wind. Rammed, entangled and packed together, the flocks, similar
to those which ordinary wadding would give if chopped up very fine, would
produce only an agglomeration devoid of cohesion and liable to be
dispelled by the first breath of air. They require a canvas, a warp, to
keep them in position.

Tiny dead stalks, with fibrous barks, well softened by the action of
moisture and the air, furnish the Penduline with a coarse tow, not unlike
that of hemp. With these ligaments, purged of every woody particle and
tested for flexibility and tenacity, he winds a number of loops round the
end of the branch which he has selected as a support for his structure.

It is not a very accurate piece of work. The loops run clumsily and
anyhow: some are slacker, others tighter; but, when all is said, it is
solid, which is the main point. Also, this fibrous sheath, the keystone
of the edifice, occupies a fair length of branch, which enables the
fastenings for the net to be multiplied.

The several straps, after describing a certain number of turns, ravel out
at the ends and hang loose. After them come interlaced threads, greater
in number and finer in texture. In the tangled jumble occur what might
almost be described as weaver's knots. As far as one can judge by the
result alone, without having seen the bird at work, this is how the
canvas, the support of the cotton wall, is obtained.

This warp, this inner framework, is obviously not constructed in its
entirety from the start; it goes on gradually, as the bird stuffs the
part above it with cotton. The wadding, picked up bit by bit from the
ground, is teazled by the bird's claws and inserted, all fleecy, into the
meshes of the canvas. The beak pushes it, the breast presses it, both
inside and out. The result is a soft felt a couple of inches thick.

Near the top of the pouch, on one side, is contrived a narrow orifice,
tapering into a short neck. This is the kitchen-door. In order to pass
through it, the Penduline, small though he be, has to force the elastic
partition, which yields slightly and then contracts. Lastly, the house
is furnished with a mattress of first-quality cotton. Here lie from six
to eight white eggs, the size of a cherry-stone.

Well, this wonderful nest is a barbarous casemate compared with that of
the Banded Epeira. As regards shape, this stocking-foot cannot be
mentioned in the same breath with the Spider's elegant and faultlessly-