how useful this cleverly-manufactured lining must be for preventing landslip or warping, for maintaining cleanliness and for helping her claws to scale the fortress.

’I hinted that this outwork of the burrow was not there invariably; as a matter of fact, I have often come across Tarantulas’ holes without a trace of it, perhaps because it had been accidentally destroyed by the weather, or because the Lycosa may not always light upon the proper building-materials, or, lastly, because architectural talent is possibly declared only in individuals that have reached the final stage, the period of perfection of their physical and intellectual development.

’One thing is certain, that I have had numerous opportunities of seeing these shafts, these out-works of the Tarantula’s abode; they remind me, on a larger scale, of the tubes of certain Caddis-worms.  The Arachnid had more than one object in view in constructing them:  she shelters her retreat from the floods; she protects it from the fall of foreign bodies which, swept by the wind, might end by obstructing it; lastly, she uses it as a snare by offering the Flies and other insects whereon she feeds a projecting point to settle on.  Who shall tell us all the wiles employed by this clever and daring huntress?

’Let us now say something about my rather diverting Tarantula-hunts.  The best season for them is the months of May and June.  The first time that I lighted on this Spider’s burrows and discovered that they were inhabited by seeing her come to a point on the first floor of her dwelling—­the elbow which I have mentioned—­I thought that I must attack her by main force and pursue her relentlessly in order to capture her; I spent whole hours in opening up the trench with a knife a foot long by two inches wide, without meeting the Tarantula.  I renewed the operation in other burrows, always with the same want of success; I really wanted a pickaxe to achieve my object, but I was too far from any kind of house.  I was obliged to change my plan of attack and I resorted to craft.  Necessity, they say, is the mother of invention.

’It occurred to me to take a stalk, topped with its spikelet, by way of a bait, and to rub and move it gently at the orifice of the burrow.  I soon saw that the Lycosa’s attention and desires were roused.  Attracted by the bait, she came with measured steps towards the spikelet.  I withdrew it in good time a little outside the hole, so as not to leave the animal time for reflexion; and the Spider suddenly, with a rush, darted out of her dwelling, of which I hastened to close the entrance.  The Tarantula, bewildered by her unaccustomed liberty, was very awkward in evading my attempts at capture; and I compelled her to enter a paper bag, which I closed without delay.

’Sometimes, suspecting the trap, or perhaps less pressed by hunger, she would remain coy and motionless, at a slight distance from the