“That is the body,” he said, in a mysterious whisper, intended only for the ears of Mrs. Roberts; “and now,” he continued aloud, “do you think I can do any thing to revive it? If I were to put it into a cup of warm water, perhaps——”
Matilda laughed. “Perhaps its legs would grow on again, you mean. Well, Alfred, this certainly would be a wonderful water-cure; you should set up an establishment and call it the warm water-cure for making legs and arms grow on again. You would make a fortune; for I heard mamma say the other day, that this seemed to be the age for believing in every sort of wonderful cure that could be invented, the more improbable the better.”
“How you run on, Matilda,” Mrs. Roberts said; “you should be aware Alfred cannot enter into all this sort of thing—you forget the difference of age between you;” then turning to Alfred, she continued,—“No, Alfred, it would not do to put this spider into water. This is what is called a wolf-spider, and were you to put it into warm water, you would certainly kill it; at present I do not think it is dead.”
Alfred’s countenance brightened.
Mrs. Roberts continued,—“Give me that sheet of white paper.” She placed the paper on a small work-table in a sunny corner of the room, and laid the spider upon it.
“Now keep quiet, all of you,” she said, “and we shall see what it does.” In a few minutes the spider unfolded its legs, and running across the paper to the edge of the table, it shot out a slender thread from its body, by which it swiftly descended to the ground.
Alfred clapped his hands, exclaiming,—“Alive, and I did not kill it, and it has got all its legs again; how very wonderful! But where did the thread come from by which it got down so very quick? Mrs. Roberts, do tell me!”
“It spun the thread from a sort of gluey substance which is contained in the flasks in its body. Each spider has four of those flasks or bags of gum, and from each tube communicates with what is called its spinneret, and with the gluey substance which passes through these tubes, it spins its thread with these spinnerets; it is very wonderful, but too difficult for you to understand at present. That thread which appeared to you so fine is composed of many finer threads, which make it stronger; just as in cords of equal thickness, those which are composed of many smaller ones united are greatly stronger than those which are spun at once; but where has the spider gone to now, Alfred? Yes, I see it; don’t touch it;” and Mrs. Roberts took a cup in which she carefully caught the spider without touching it, and having placed this cup in a saucer full of water, she desired them to watch its further proceedings. The spider ran repeatedly to the brim of the cup descending on the other side, but was always stopped by the water which surrounded it. Sadly perplexed by this unexpected obstacle, after having ran round and round by the edge of the water several times, it stood still, and raised its two fore-legs in the air.
“It is trying,” Mrs. Roberts said, “to ascertain from which side there is a current of air to carry its thread to some object to support it, the opposite rim of the saucer, for instance.”
“Oh, how very curious!” they all exclaimed. But this world of waters seemed quite overwhelming to the poor spider, who could feel no current of air, and it was returning hopelessly into the cup when Mrs. Roberts said,—“Now you shall see it throw its little silken bridge across, and get free from this sad imprisonment;” and she blew very gently in the desired direction.