Is another kind, which forms a sort of tent by stretching its threads between the stems of aquatic plants far below the surface. In this den it dwells, and here it devours the prey which it captures during its excursions; and in order to provide a stock of air for its respiration, it carries down successive small portions entangled amongst the hairs of its abdomen. This process is exactly similar to that by which diving-bells used to be supplied with air, and indeed the dome-like habitation of this Spider is constructed precisely on the same principle as the diving-bell.

There are also several kinds of Water Mites, the most abundant of which is of a rich red colour, and grows to nearly the bulk of a pea. It may commonly be seen swimming among the plants in pools and ditches.



THE TARANTULA. (Lycosa Tarantula.)

This Spider is a native of the South of Europe. It lives in fields, and its dwelling is about four inches deep in the ground, half an inch wide, and closed at the mouth with a net. They lay about seven hundred and thirty eggs, which are hatched in the spring. These Spiders do not live quite a year; the parents never survive the winter.

Inflammation, difficulty of breathing, and sickness, are said to be the inevitable consequences of the bite of this animal. Dr. Mead, and other medical men, have countenanced the popular story of these effects being counteracted by the power of music. It is, however, now well known, that this singular mode of cure was nothing more than a trick frequently practised on credulous travellers, who were desirous of witnessing it. Mr. Swinburne, when he was in Italy, minutely investigated every particular relative to the Tarantula. The season was not far enough advanced, and it was pretended that no persons had as yet been bitten that year: he, however, prevailed upon a woman, who had formerly been bitten, to dance the part before him. Several musicians were summoned, and she performed the dance, as everyone present assured him, to perfection. At first she lolled stupidly on a chair, while the instruments played a dull strain. They touched at length the chord supposed to vibrate to her heart; and up she sprung with a hideous yell, staggered about the room like a drunken person, holding a handkerchief in both hands, raising them alternately, and moving in very true time. As the music grew brisker, her motions quickened, and she skipped about with great vigour, and in a variety of steps, every now and then shrieking very loud. The scene was unpleasant, and, at his request, an end was put to it before the woman was tired.