When twilight is over, we punctually set out to pay her a family visit. Old and young alike are amazed by her gyrations in the midst of her quivering cordage, and we marvel at her impeccable geometry as her web takes shape. Gleaming in the rays of the lantern, the fabric becomes a fairy rose-window which seems to be woven of moon-beams. What a pity that we cannot wait for the completion of a task so artistically begun! But the hour is late, and we have still to pay a visit to the Languedocian Scorpion, a lover of darkness who has his own hours for going abroad and rarely shows himself save at night. Accordingly, it has taken time to secure the last word of his history. Rearing the Scorpion in a breeding-cage will perhaps give better results, and in any case will facilitate nocturnal observations which alone may shed a little light on the obscure habits of this unsociable hermit. Interrogated by lantern-light, the Arachnoid will indeed tell us more during a few seconds of stealthy inspection than during days and weeks of diurnal hunting. His operations are, as a matter of fact, such as call for closed doors, and would rightly shrink from displaying themselves in broad daylight. I have prepared beforehand the great glass cage, peopled with twenty-five inhabitants, each with his tile. Every night, from the middle of April, as darkness falls, there is great animation in the glass palace. By day seemingly to be deserted, it becomes a cheerful scene. Hardly is supper finished when the whole household hastens thither. A lantern hung upon the glazed window enables us to follow what happens. This is our distraction after the bustle of the day; it is like a visit to the theatre. And in this theatre the plays are so interesting that, as soon as the lantern is lit, all of us, old and young, come to take our places in the stalls; even down to Tom, the house-dog. Indifferent to the affairs of the Scorpions, like the true philosopher that he is, Tom lies at our feet and sleeps, but only with one eye, the other being always open upon his friends, the children.