if you will daily seek through life to be ready to give a helping hand to those in need, you'll have learned a lesson worth remembering from the homely proverb:

"A friend in need is a friend indeed."'

M. H.

STORIES OF INSECT LIFE.

THE GARDEN SPIDER.

HE spider!' I hear some of my young friends exclaim. 'Oh, we don't care to hear anything about so ugly and disagreeable a creature as that!' and I acknowledge there is little that is attractive in the personal appearance of the spider; nor can we admire the deep subtlety of his ways, the cruel cunning with which he spreads his fairy-like web before his dwelling, and then lurks in his hole to watch the destruction of any innocent, unsuspicious fly, that may chance to alight on the fatal snare. Yet Mr. Spider is a clever, ingenious fellow, well learned in mathematics, and teaching us many a lesson of perseverance and activity. Though his body is swollen and repulsivelooking, and the neighbourhood of his dwelling, being scattered with the torn limbs and wings of his many victims, bears sad evidence of his rapacious barbarity; still, look at the beautiful gate of his castle, and say, is there such a wise little head among you can devise so exquisite a fabric? or whose tiny fingers, be they ever so nimble and dainty, can weave a more delicate piece of web-work than the web he spins?

'The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!

Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.'

Now the thread with which the spider spins is composed, we are told, of five thousand smaller threads united, thereby strengthening the fairy cord. When the

spider commences to spin, it presses these finer threads in a spreading circle against the substance from which it desires to weave, and then gathers them into one, thus

causing the fixing to be more complete and firm. The house spider's net is composed of one kind of silk only; but the garden spider uses two, the one to construct the radii, or threads which run across-the mooring cables as they have been called,-and which is composed of simple threads, and is not adhesive; the other, for the concentric or geometric circles, which it studs with drops of viscid glue, so clammy that, should a moth or luckless fly alight thereon, it is bound at once a helpless, hopeless victim. The spider has proved it can smell, hear, and taste. eyes are very bright, and sometimes six and eight in number. We are told it changes its skin and gets a new set of legs every year; and that if a limb is torn off, it will speedily grow again! It has eight legs, which are jointed like a crab's, and bear claws at the extremities. It is also provided with two little short arms, or forceps, which it uses for holding or destroying its prey. Spiders are in the highest degree sensitive of any approaching change in the atmosphere. They usually retire from their webs when rain or any severe weather sets in, and only appear again on the return of sunshine.

My little friends may not all have read or heard of Disjouval, a Frenchman, who remained for many years a prisoner at Utrecht, and, to relieve the terrible monotony of his dreary incarceration, watched attentively the habits and movements of the spiders, who were the only companions of his dungeon life. Through them he foretold the approach of such severe frost, that the French troops, who were overrunning Holland, and had, in consequence of a destructive thaw, thought of abandoning their projects and retreating, were induced to persevere. The result was, the rivers were frozen over, the army enabled to enter Utrecht in triumph, and Disjouval rewarded by his release from prison.

I could tell you many curious tales of spiders, did space permit. We read of how they may be tamed; and a story is told of another unfortunate prisoner, doomed to solitary confinement, whose lonely hours were cheered by a spider,

which became so tame, that it would run towards him, and feed out of his hand.

Once, when a child, I happened to stay some months in the country, and often I used to resort to an old summer-house in the garden, which was thickly overgrown with fragrant eglantine,

'With ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting honeysuckle.'

And there I loved to sit and watch the manoeuvres of a large spider, which had ensconced itself in an upper corner, and of which, by the way, I was half afraid, lest he might venture beyond his own precincts, when there would assuredly have been a second edition of

'Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet,

One beautiful summer's day;

By came a spider,

Which sat down beside her,

And frightened Miss Muffet away.'

I christened my new friend Ben, because I had read of a celebrated giant of that name, who used to seduce his victims into his palace, and then slay and gobble them up.

At first Ben would scuttle off to his hole at my approach; but he soon ceased to fear or regard my presence, and I was greatly interested and amused in watching his ingenious ways, surprised to find what a clever little thing a spider was after all!

When

I was very anxious to see him spin his web, and very soon he set about doing so. He examined the premises well, walked about, and made a regular survey. he wanted to go where only wings could carry him, he sent out a filament, or thread, from his body; and this, blown about by the wind, soon caught against a leaf or twig. Ben then gave it a few tugs to ascertain its security, and, being assured of this, would march across his suspension bridge, and continue his investigations on the other

At length he fairly commenced his web, and laboured with great assiduity, drawing first the threads across, and then weaving others in a circular form. It was wonderful to see the beautifully-marked, sagacious creature constructing his ingenious palace with such marvellous principles of exactness; and yet I was almost tired of watching his close, steady work, for, though busy enough, there was no hurry, no slovenly skimming or haste. Ben took his own time, and all was methodical, tidy, and thoroughly done, each thread well adjusted and firmly fixed, ere he proceeded to his next labour. Then, when all was completed, another survey was taken, to be quite certain all was secure, each joint was tested, and the web shaken wherever a bit of dust had gathered. Everything being found satisfactory, Ben ran to the centre of his web, there nibbled away the cotton-like tuft that united the radi, now held together by the circular threads, and settled himself in the opening to await the arrival of his prey. He remained so long quite still and motionless, that my patience was again exhausted, nay, my fears alarmed; and, to ascertain if he were well and brisk, I unceremoniously poked him with a stick, thereby greatly injuring the beautiful tissue which had so charmed

me.

No sooner had I withdrawn my stick than Ben rushed out to examine and repair, with ready skill and contrivance, the terrible breach I had made in his fortress. This done, he retired to his watch as before.

Soon a brisk little house-fly flitted about, and finally alighted on his web. Ben looked quietly on, allowing it to struggle amongst the meshes, and thus the more entangle its beautiful gossamer wings, until its strength was utterly exhausted. Then he eagerly sallied forth, and, seizing the poor feeble insect with his rough arms, or pincers, which are toothed like a saw, and have claws at the end, he inserted a drop of venom from the point of a claw, and, to my infinite sorrow, the little innocent fly lay dead.