Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1902 — FOR THE LITTLE ONES. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

FOR THE LITTLE ONES.

How the Spider Stretches a Cable Across a Wide Open Space. Last summer a large spider had its web in the top of a decaying peach tree with so few leaves that it was in plain view. I caught sight of her first while watching some birds with my glass. She seemed to be climbing from the top of the tree on nothing to a telephone wire some fifteen feet away and somewhat higher than her web. When she reached the wire, she went around it and then back. In studying the situation I found that the web was so located that, it required a cable to hold it up, and the spider had in some way got one over the wire so far away. This cable was, of course, a slender silken thread which evidently she had thrown out, and on account of its lightness it had floated to the right place and became attached there by its glutinous properties. It seems remarkable that it should have adhered to the wire firmly enough to allow so large an insect to climb over it, which she did every day. A Melancholy Event.

But when the guests came (Messrs. Gumdrop by name, Carrie Mell and her friend, Sallie Lunn) They found that the host had been chewed up almost, While the hostess had melted and run.

A Sacrifice Accepted. Clarence—Clara, if I let you buy a new winter coat, I’ll have to wear my old one. Clara—Oh, you dear, sweet, lovely, generous old boy!—Detroit Free Press. Much Above It. “Yes,” they said. “Mr. Diggem is above his occupation.” “What,” we asked, “does he do?” “He,” they replied, “is a well driller.”-—Baltimore American. The Grocer’s Bill. Head of Family—Are you sure, Mary, that we got all these things from the grocery last month? The Lady Help—l’m sure I got ’em, sor.—lndianapolis News.