Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1895-04-20


tested it. At the center he stopped
and attached thread, and stretched
1t at right angles. This was kept
up until the pattern was like the
spokes Of a wheel. Then he began
to weave IN the cross lines, in cir.
Gle, always the same distance apart,
beginning at the outer cireumfer-
ence and working toward the center
stopping and testing each line as he
worked.
"When he is done,' said Pierre,
"he will sit in the middle, where he
can feel every line, and when the
miserable fly plumbers against one
he will know it by telegraph. Quick
ly he moves out and winds him up
in a net. 1t is the end of the fly. l
will feed them for you to behold"
He went ont of doors to the barn,
where number of ordinary traps
were set about a heap of vegetable
refuse and stable sweepings in
room kept warm by straw banked
up against the walls outside. The
traps were filed with buzzing
oaptives, and the old man took one
of the wire cylinders back to the
house. The traps were opened, and
a cloud of flies swarmed toward the
ceiling. Then, as if lured against
their will, they began to settle on
the wires of the net frames. Why
they should act so unanimously was
mysterious, and Pierre chuckled and
shrugged his shoulders in great glee.
"You are puzzled" said he. at
is like the story of Gree, or the
seven damoiselles, that / was learned
about in the school. | will explain
to you, take a pot of molasses,
once in a few days, and with little
brush paint the wires. That is
enough. 1t does the trick. The
flies must go to their fate. They
cannot help themselves. 1t is sim
pie. 1t is not teaching, as / said.
All, the fable of the spider and the
fly; it is the grand education, / tell
you. Come up stairs. will show
you something great"
THE FABRICS OF THE FAIRIES.
In the coy little bed room under
the low leaves there was a miniature
weaving mill, a tiny spinning wheel
and loom, looking like chiIdren's
toys or machinery models. The
writer had heard of experiments
made by Professor Wilder in trying
to utilize the silken threads, although
it was found possible to handle it
with great care. The spiders web
is much smoother and brighter-col.
ored than the thread of the silk
worm, and if it could be profitably
spun would make a beautiful fabric.
But Pierre knew much more about
the matter than the writer, and he
said with a fine air of triumph;
81 have done the impossible. This
is the occupation for my do'nothing
times. There is not money in it, so
you will disdain all of it, nest ce pas?
But it is the soul of the artist in it.
Here spin the threads. All, they
are not strong. They break all the
time. But l spin FIVE or six of the
little lines in one, and / have this
beautiful silk thread. / wind it on
the bobbins, so. | fix it in my loom,
the threads by the hundreds. |
weave them, so and so, up and down,
across and back. They break many
times. Often l say, Mon Dieu, /
will not work with you no more. But
l keep it. 1t is the labor of love.
Sec, here is the result"
Two-thirds of the loom frame was
filled with a piece of fabric foot
wide. 1t was the sheeniest, daintiest
thing imaginable. In the shifting
light it cleaned and sparkled like
spun glass, yet thousand times
softer and more beautiful. The we'd
ding robes of thistledown which
clothed Queen Nab must have look
ed like this fairy fabric of cobwebs.
II have been two months in weav-
ing this much. 1t will be made in
not one more month";" said Pierre.
"Then / shall send it to the divine,
the magnificent Bcrnhardt. / will
say that it is the offering OF de-
voted, whole-heart adm:rer. 1t
will be the only handkerchief Of spi-
| der silk in the world. Perhaps she
will write and give me thanks. Mon
Dieu, it will be enough to give it to
her."
With Pierre still talking OF the
fairy handkerchief and the divine
Sara, the visitors left him and his
spider farm, perhaps the most unique
industry in the world. As the beam
ing host bowed farewell from tue
front gate, he said in stage whis-
per: "Whcu you see the rare old
wine look for the writing Of my pets.
Now, they cannot deceive you. You
will be onto them, as you say. Au
revoir."
La Grippe.