A SPIDER’S BRIDGE

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 17, 1895

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 21, No. 41.

A SPIDER’S BRIDGE.

THERE is a great deal of clever thought in the head of a spider. A naturalist once caught one in his garden, and brought it into the house to put its cleverness to the test.

First he took a basin and fixed a tall stick in it, so as to stand upright steadily. Then he filled the basin with water. On the top of this tiny flagstaff he put the spider—a regular Robinson Crusoe stranded on a desert island. Then the naturalist watched to see if the insect would hit upon a plan for getting away.

The spider was very much perplexed. He scampered down the pole to the water, stuck out a foot, got it wet, shook it as a cat does, and ran back up to the top. A second time he went down and made sure that the water lay all round the stick. Having satisfied himself that no way of escape lay there, he returned to the masthead. A sudden thought seemed to strike him. He held up one foot, then another, and fidgeted about for a bit. What was he doing?—He was feeling whether there was enough wind moving in the room to float one of his silken clues as far as the edge of the basin. There evidently was. So he began, in true spider fashion, to spin the web out of his own body, and let every breath of air float it out further and further toward the mainland.

At last the end of the sticky thread caught. He drew it tight, and then, like a clever gymnast, ran down it safely ashore.—Selected.