the tiny drops of honey; as also is the apparent gratitude of the aphides at being thus relieved of their sticky burdens.

There are a great many other insects which live habitually in or near ant's nests, for what purpose is not always known. Some observers seem to think that they are kept as pets, and are caressed and petted by the young ants, much as Tiny or Pussy are treated by our little ones.

The foreign elements in their homes are not, however, always of a kind beneficial to ants. We read of certain mites by which they are attacked, and which, having once got a hold, cling to their unfortunate victims, sucking their very life-blood. The ants appear to know exactly what the result of such an attack will be, and resign themselves to their fate.

Then there is another kind of insect which makes sad ravages in the home. It hides itself in the walls of the ant's nest, and every now and again pays a visit to the nurseries, carrying off the grubs and chrysalises to its den for food.

From these facts we see that, virtuous and thrifty as the ants are, they, like us, have their troubles. Let us take a lesson from them, and try to bear adverse fortune as patiently as they do.

"Our life is short; but to extend that span

To vast eternity, is virtue's work."

SPINNERS AND WEAVERS.

IN an old classic story we read of a certain passage of arms which took place between the daughter of a man who worked as an ordinary dyer, and no less a personage than the great goddess Minerva herself. The name of

this daring child of plebeian descent was Arachne, and she, by her marvellous skill in spinning and weaving, became so famous, and-must we say it ?-so conceited, that she challenged the goddess to excel her in this particular art. Her ladyship accepted the challenge, and forthwith there was such a spinning and weaving, such a buzzing and humming, as was

heard; and such a medley

of silks, and wools, and

threads, of such an in

finite variety of colour and shade, were produced for their use, that it was a wonder how the fair ladies managed to select what they each required. But they did do so, and after a considerable time two magnificent pieces of tapestry were produced; the first, a representation of the goodness and the grandeur of the pagan deities, woven by the goddess; the other, a picture of the shady side of celestial life, worked by the earthborn maiden.

No one could decide as to which was the more perfect piece of work. But, as now, so then, "Might was

Right." The goddess struck her lowly competitor for producing such a disgraceful picture. Poor Arachne could not bear such treatment, and, weaving a rope, tied it about her neck, making preparations to hang herself. Thereupon Minerva, whose heart smote her, and, moreover, who desired that such skill should not be for ever lost, interposed, exclaiming, "Live, wretch, yet hang!" and forthwith there dropped from the tree whereon the girl

would have hanged herself a spider, suspended by its thread.

When we look into the beauties and intricacies of

SPIDER'S FOOT.

In

a spider's web, we shall not
wonder that its weaver is
credited with descent from
so skilled a worker.
deed, we might imagine
that, as the centuries have
rolled on, the spider has im-

proved the shining hours by perfecting herself in her craft; for there is no more wonderful weaving than that which a spider can produce.

We are all familiar with the appearance of the clever little creature, so there is no need to describe it as seen by the naked eye. But under a microscope what is revealed? Among other

things we see that each of the four pairs of long legs end in sharp claws, varying in shape and size according to the different species. Sometimes there are tiny, tiny hooks covering the leg up to the first joint, with which perhaps the spider arranges the cords she spins into any shape desired. On further investigation we find that in some of these feet there is a little slit. This is the outlet of certain sacs wherein the spider secretes poison; so that, when she has properly caught her fly

in her sharp claws, she can immediately pour a deadly fluid into the wounds she makes, and thus put her victim out of misery at once.

Let us now look at the spinning apparatus. This we find at the base of the abdomen in the shape of

four or six little protuberances, each about the size of a pin's head. It is from these spinnerets, as they are called, that the spider draws its web. When we magnify them, we find that there are in each little knob about one thousand holes, from which issues a