The herald., 1895-07-07

him $40 or $50 maybe, but he may sell
the wine for S1000-yes more than that
above what it had brought without my
pets had dressed the bottles in the robes
of long ago.
The merchant takes the parvenu and
the nouveau richie, who are easy to fool
and play with. He leads them down in
to the dark cellar. By the light of the
candle the customer sees the rows of bot
ties. Their necks are deep in dust; il is
easy to blow dust over them. The cob
webs drape them they stretch flom cork
TO cork it is plain that there is here
great age. All my cobwebs, mon ami.
The customer has what you call the pull
ing OF the leg to him. He is proud. But
it is good for him. Good wine is only
meant for the man who knows it.
Perhaps a man has quickly made
great wealth and keeps a grand establish
ment. He must have a fine wine cellar.
Perhaps ha buys him self old wines, dusty
and cobwebby. But the cobwebs are
broken and en- dishabille when the bottles
are moved to his cellar. They have not
the tone, the look Of the real old age,
OF the long years of gentle rest in the un-
disturbed dark, nest ce pas? Then he
drives out to see old Pierre. or writes
from New York or Chicago-I do a grand
him my pets. They work for him. Soon
he can take his rich friends into his cei-
lar, and they say: Mon Dieu, this is
superb, it is magnificent. We give you
congratulations, my poy. This is what
money cannot buy. My pets stop work
ing and they do what you call wink the
other eye. They then resume their toll.
"Corbleau. it is a science. this raising
of spiders. l have on hand at one time
about 10, 600 spiders, old and young.
brought some eggs from France, end the
choicest webmakers to be found. Here is
the queen of them all. Her children are
the superb spinners. Many hundreds of
kind bred by my great uncle IN France ~
The old man led the way to glass
dome in the corner, beneath which a
filmy web of beautiful pattern stretched
across nearly two feet. Pierre touched
one OF the meshes and huge black spid
ee danced nimbly out from her downy
nest and ran up the vibrating thread to
the old mans finger. He gave her fly
and she tripped back within doors with
her booty.
This is Satra.' said Pierre. "She has
the grace, the chic, the slender beauty OF
the divine Bernhardt. She is the pride OF
all my pets. All! here is zola looking al
you."
A hideous hairy monster had crawled
up the fine wire netting that kept him
within bounds and stared sadonically not
a foot away from the writer's nose. A
start and an exclamation were natural. but
Pierre looked grieved.
II do not blame you much, v said he
'Zola is good -natured and would not
hurt you, but he has the horrible look. He
has fits of bad temper sometimes. Then,
ventie bleu! look you out. He is the bird
spider of Surinam. His body is two
inches long. and lie catches and eats
small finches and sparrows when in tbs
woods. His bite is bad poison. l doubt
not it would kill you. But l tame him
with kindness. Yet he is not pleasant
to think of running around a room. He
might have the bad temper. He would
eat all my pets in one day. But he il
king of all spiders--le grand monarch.
Therefore | call him Zola, the most su
perb of writers.
When the mother spider wishes to lay
her eggs she makes little web in broat
crack. See. here is one weaving he
nursery. Then she lays fifty eggs, per
hars. like petite jelly drops. Then sh'
leaves them. In two weeks, longer il
winter, they begin to hatch. 1t is Yer.
difficult. 1t takes one or two days. Th'
eggshell or skin cracks off in rags. MOI
Dieu, but there is a great struggle for thu
enfants. Then they grow, and in a weel
look like spiders. They Inoult often, ant
shed their skin like snake. | must sep
arate the brood at tender age. 1t is hare
to break up the family, but, sapristi, they
devour each other until only enc is left
like your droll tale of the cats Of Xii
kennyo