The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-04-07

would think his cellar was not disturbed
FOR the last fifty years. It has cost him $50
or $50 maybe. but he may sell the wine for
81. 009-yes. more than that-above what
they 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 into
the dark cellar. BY the light Of the candle
the customer sees the rows of bottles.
Their necks are deep in dust-it Is easy
to blow over them dust. The cobwebs
drape them; they stretch from cork 10
COrk-it is plain that there is here great
age. All my cobwebs, mon ami. The Gus
toner has what you call the pulling Of
the leg 10 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 establishment
He must have fine wine cellar. Perhaps
he buys himself old wines, dusty and cob
webby But the cobwebs are broken and
en- deshabille 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 undisturbed dark.
n'estce pas? Then he drives out TO see
old Pierre. or writes from New York or
Chicago do a grand business i'm Chicago.
Sapristi l send him my pets. They work
for him. Soon he can take his rich friends
into his cellar, and they say: Mon Dieu.
this is superb. IL is magnificent. We give
you congratuation, my boy This Is
what money cannot buy. My pets stop
working and they do what you call wink
the other eye. Then they resume their
toll"
Tell us how you raise them and feed
them. Pierre" asked the visitor, insinu-
atingly.
"Corbleu. it is a science. this raising Of
spiders I have on hand at one time
about 10000 spiders. old and young. l
brought some eggs from France, and the
choicest web makers to be found. Here
is the queen Of them all. Many hundreds
of my pets are her descendants. 1t is
the kind bred by my great uncle in
France"
The old man led the way to a glass dome
in the corner. beneath which a tilmy web
of beautiful pattern stretched across near
ly two feet. Pierre touched one Of the
meshes, and a huge. black spider danced
nimbly out from her downy nest and ran
up the vibrating thread TO the old mans
finger. He gave her a fly. and she tripped
back within doors with her booty.
This is Sara" said Pierre. she has
the grace, the chic, the slender beauty
of the divine Bernhard She is the pride
of all my pets. All, here is lola looking
at you"
A hideous hairy monster had crawled
up the fine wire netting that kept him
within bounds and stared sardonically not
a foot away from the writer's nose. A
start and exclamation were natural, but
Pierre looked gricved.
Il do not blame you much" 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 ven
tre-bleu. look you out. He is the bird
spider of Suranium. His body is two
inches long and he catches and eats small
hnches and sparrows when in his woods.
His bite IS bad poison. ] doubt not it
would kill you. But tame him with kind
ness. 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 is king Of all spiders
lie grand monarch. Therefore / call him
lola, the most superb of writer's.
when the mother spider wishes to lay
her eggs she makes a little web in a broad
crack See, here is one weaving her nurs-
cry. Then she lays fifty eggs perhaps,
like petit jelley OOPS. Then she covers
them up in a soft silk cocoon, and leaves
them. In two weeks, longer in winter,
they begin to hatch. 1t IS very difficult.
or skin cracks off in rags. Mon Dieu, but
there is a great struggle for the infants.
Then they grow, and In a week look like
spiders. They moult often, and shed their
skins like the snake. 1 must separate the
| brood at a tender age, 1t is hard to
break up the family. but. Sapristi, they
devour each other until only the one is left,
like your droll tale of the cats of Kill
| kenny "