But is it necessary to restore to the spider her own cocoon? Will not that of another spider serve as well? Certainly it will; a wolf-spider will eagerly adopt the cocoon of a spider even belonging to a different genus, if not greatly unlike her own in size. Nay, even a ball of pith of the same size will be attached with alacrity to the spinnerets, though if offered a choice between a cocoon and a pith ball the spider, after some hesitation, selects the real article. One spider even accepted a cocoon into which a leaden shot had been inserted, making it many times its original weight. She could hardly crawl with her new burden, but stuck to it gallantly, and when several efforts to secure it to her spinnerets had proved ineffectual she carried it about between her jaws and the third pair of legs. Again we find the intelligence of the spider distinctly limited, but its powerful instincts are equal to all ordinary requirements. Nature does not, as a rule, play extravagant pranks, such as interchanging cocoons or substituting for them pith balls and leaden pellets. The famous Tarantula is a wolf-spider, though in America, unfortunately, the name has been quite wrongly applied to the members of an entirely different group. Everyone has heard of its deadly repute, and of the myth that its bite can only be cured by the wild tarantula dance or tarantella. It is one of the large Lycosids of southern Europe. These, as we have said, are much less nomadic than the smaller species, but have a permanent home, from which they do not wander far afield. They prefer waste, arid places, and their burrows are simple cylindrical tubes with the upper portion lined by silk, the mouth being often surmounted by a sort of rampart of particles of soil mingled with small pieces of wood collected in the neighbourhood. The spider lurks in the mouth of the tube where its glistening eyes can be distinctly seen. If an insect ventures near it rushes out and secures it; if alarmed, it retreats instantly to the bottom of the burrow.