As if to furnish an instance of precisely the opposite import, the cruel and murderous father of this interesting little family is one of the greatest enemies the poor mother has to contend against. This hard-hearted parent does not hesitate whenever he falls in with one of his children to seize him and eat him up! If the mother spies him at this horrible feast she immediately attacks him in the manner described; and does her utmost to deter him from his cannibal propensities, by placing herself in an attitude of determined resistance before him. Was ever mother's love more plainly manifested than this love? No other instance of an affection so strange and strong is to be found in the tribe to which she belongs. The care of the earwig not only extends to her eggs, but also to her young larvæ. "In the beginning of June," writes the author last quoted, "I found under a stone a female earwig, surrounded by a number of little creatures which I discovered to be her tiny family. She did not attempt to leave them, and they frequently ran and crouched under her, just as chickens under the wing of a hen. I took them up and placed them under a sand-glass, under which I had put a little fresh earth. They did not bore into the earth; and it was most curious to see them running for shelter under the mother, and pushing about between her feet, while she remained perfectly quiet. I fed them with pieces of ripe apple, which the mother seized and ate with great avidity, detaching morsels of it by means of her teeth, and swallowing them. The young ones also ate a little of it, but with less avidity." When the eggs of the spider mentioned in the last chapter as so devotedly attached to its treasure as to prefer death to parting with them, are hatched, they make their way out of the bag by an opening in it, being assisted by the mother in this difficult task. De Geer indeed states that this is the reason why the mother clings so tenaciously to the bag of eggs, as if she knew that her assistance in extricating her young from it was necessary. But this is not altogether correct, as they are able to make their way out by themselves in due time. When the young larvæ have come forth from the shell they run towards the mother, and climb upon her body; some get on her head, some on her back, and some on her limbs. In this manner she carries them about, and is said to feed them until they become strong enough to shift for themselves. "I have more than once been gratified," (writes one of the authors of the Introduction to Entomology,) "by a sight of this interesting spectacle; and when I nearly touched the mother, thus covered by hundreds of progeny, it was most amusing to see them all leap from her back, and run away in all directions."