the sides of the ditch. The spider commenced tugging at his prize in order to land it. The observer ran to the nearest house for a wide-mouthed bottle, leaving his friend to watch the struggle. During an interval of six or eight minutes' absence the spider had drawn the fish entirely out of the water; then both creatures had fallen in again, the bank being nearly perpendicular. There followed a great struggle, and on Mr. Spring's return the fish was already hoisted head first more than half its length out upon the land. It was very much exhausted, hardly making any movement, and was being slowly and steadily drawn up by the spider, who had evidently gained the victory. She had not once quit FIG. 2.-A FISH CAPTURED BY A DOLOMEDE SPIDER. her hold during the period of a quarter to half an hour of observation. Her head was directed toward the fish's tail; she stepped backward up an elevation of forty-five degrees, dragging her captive with her. The observers were unfortunately unable to await the issue of the matter, and therefore caught the combatants in the bottle, partly filled with water. The fish swam languidly at the bottom of the vessel, and the spider stood sentinel on the surface, turning when the fish turned and watching every motion. The bottle was set aside and visited after an interval of three hours. The spider was then found dead at the bottom of the jar, but the fish was alive and lived twenty-four hours afterward. The spider was three fourths of an inch long and weighed fourteen grains; the fish was three and one fourth inches long and weighed sixty-six grains. The spider was probably bruised by the catching. One of the most remarkable records of the physical and mechanical powers of spiders is made in Silliman's Journal. The account is authenticated by the names and statements of a number of gentlemen resident in the vicinity of the occurrence, Batavia, N. Y. One evening Hon. David E. Evans found in his wine-cellar a live striped snake, nine inches long, suspended by the tail in a spider's web between two shelves. The snake hung so that its head could not reach the shelf below it by about an inch. The shelves were about two feet apart, and the lower one was just below the bottom of a cellar window, through which the snake probably passed into it. From the upper shelf there hung a web in the shape of an inverted cone, eight or ten inches in diameter at the top, and concentrated to a focus about six or eight inches from the under side of this shelf. From this focus there was a strong cord made of the multiplied threads of the spider's web, apparently as large as sewing-silk, and by this cord the snake was suspended. A rude sketch of the serpent suspended in the web was made by an eye-witness, and is exactly reproduced at Fig. 3. A close examination showed that the snake's mouth was entirely closed by a number of threads wound around it. Its tail was tied in a knot so as to leave a small loop or ring, through which the cord was fastened, as seen in the figure. FIG. 3.-A SNAKE ENTANGLED IN A Accepting the account as true, or at least probable, I would make the following inferences: First, the description of the web, although sufficiently indefinite, leaves little doubt that the snake was originally taken in a snare of a species of tube-weaver, and most probably by the medicinal spider, Tegenaria medicinalis (Hentz). The broad-sheeted web of this spider is frequently found in cellars, which are favorite haunts. It builds near windows, in the angles and along the sides of walls, having its tubular den in a crack or opening laid along an angle (Fig. 4). The sheet is usually drawn upward until its exterior margin is higher than the plane of the entrance of the tube. There is thus formed a sort of pouch within which insects often fall, and so are readily captured by the spider, who mounts guard at the door of her den. Over the door the tube frequently rises into a sort of tower. I had often wished for an opportunity to follow up critically one of the recurring reports of the physical powers of spiders. This wish was gratified in the summer of 1882. An article drifted through American newspapers which detailed the ensnaring of a living mouse by a Kentucky spider. I was fortunately able to trace the story to its origin in the Lebanon (Ky.) Standard and Times. Correspondence with its intelligent editor, Mr. J. W. Hop FIG. 4. THE POUCH, WEB, TOWER, AND COCOON OF THE MEDICINAL SPIDER. per, brought me entire confirmation of the report from a number of trustworthy sources. I think the incident of sufficient importance to justify a somewhat detailed presentation. The original account, as published by Mr. Hopper, is as follows: "A very curious and interesting spectacle was to be seen Monday afternoon in the office of Mr. P. C. Cleaver's livery-stable in this city. Against the wall of the room stands a tolerably tall desk, and under this a small spider, not larger than a common pea, had constructed an extensive web reaching to the floor (Fig. 5). About half past eleven o'clock Monday forenoon, it was observed that the spider had ensnared a young mouse by passing filaments of her web around its tail. When first seen, the mouse had its fore-feet on the floor, and could barely touch the floor with its hind-feet. The spider was full of business, running up and down the line and occasionally biting the mouse's tail, making it struggle desperately. Its efforts to escape were all unavailing, as the slender filaments about its tail were too strong for it to break. In a short time it was seen that the spider was slowly hoisting its victim into the air. By two o'clock in the afternoon the mouse could barely touch the floor with its forefeet; by dark the point of its nose was an inch above the floor. At nine o'clock at night the mouse was still alive, but made no sign except when the spider descended and bit its tail. At this time it was an inch and a half from the floor. Yesterday morning the mouse was dead, and hung three inches from the floor. The news of the novel sight soon became circulated, and hundreds of people visited the stable to witness it. The mouse was a small one, measuring about an inch and a half from the point of its nose to the root of the tail." The space given the above facts may seem to some to be in undue proportion to their importance. But, apart from the value of positively determining any point in natural history, the discussion has this conclusion: The capture of small vertebrate animals by both sedentary and wandering spiders is possible; the one by the mechanical strength of their snares, the other by their physical strength. There is thus laid the foundation, at least, for the presumption that such animals may be or become natural food for the larger species of araneads. This is certainly a most important fact in the life-history of spiders, and would greatly enlarge the range of their habits. FIG. 5.-A MOUSE HANGING IN A SPIDER'S SNARE. Mr. F. J. Moss, of the New Zealand Legislature, and an extensive traveler in Polynesia, suggests that the deterioration of the natives of those regions may be partly due to faulty instruction. It is neither desirable nor expedient to thwart Nature too much. What is most needed, this author thinks, is to allow the islanders in their work and their amusements free scope for the imaginative powers with which they are endowed, and the exercise of which is too often foolishly discouraged. SECONDARY SCHOOL PROGRAMMES-FRENCH AND AMERICAN. BY GEORGE W. BEAMAN. THE general subject of American secondary school programmes a has been of late years most prolific one. What with the relative or particular importance of the mother-tongue, classical studies, history, modern languages, and, more recently, manual training, the educational essayist has been rather embarrassed by the multitude of the topics presented him. As the result of much discussion, contention, and wordy warfare, we have, however, today, certain secondary school programmes, generally speaking quite similar in their character, marking in a more or less defined manner the routes along which our boys are traveling on their respective journeys to college, to scientific school, or to practical business life. While there is to be noted a decided advance and improvement in pedagogical methods in our secondary schools within the last few decades, it yet remains true that no intelligent reader of the programmes, as exhibited in the catalogues of our leading endowed fitting schools, and public grammar and high schools, can fail to be struck by a certain lack of co-ordination, system, and, in most instances, by an apparent want of a genuine appreciation of the real demands that the present age makes upon modern secondary schools. Once outside the old fixed limits of the classics, there is to be observed much disagreement among the schools themselves, both as to the proper subjects to be included in the programme and the relative time to be devoted to the studies that are placed in the school curriculum. When comparison of these programmes with those of other countries is made, we have at once afforded us a most striking exemplification of how far we still are in this country from any well-defined consensus as to what the modern secondary school programme really should be. In view of the revolutionary period through which the schools have been passing during the past thirty years, this is perhaps hardly to be wondered at. The broadening of the college requirements for entrance, largely brought about by the demands of a public sentiment, no longer fully satisfied with purely mediæval curricula, has in itself served to call for many modifications of the secondary schools' programme. With Harvard and Johns Hopkins opening their doors to students unequipped with the traditional Greek, there has of course arisen a demand for preparation in other prerequisites which have necessarily been substituted for Greek. In response to the general outcry for them, the courses in modern languages, in the mother-tongue, history, and |