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1
136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
37
With
short
abrupt
flights
or
agile
runs
of
a
few
inches,
accompanied
by
nervous
periodic
flirts
of
the
folded
wings,
the
insect
had
covered
pretty
much
of
the
ground
in
a
short
time,
until
she
at
length
appeared
to
have
discovered
the
object
of
her
search,
as
she
withdrew
from
beneath
a
sorrel
leaf
a
big
fat
spider
several
times
as
large
as
herself.
Its
legs
were
folded
beneath
its
body,
and
it
was
perfectly
plain
that
this
was
not
the
first
time
that
it
had
been
in
the
toils
of
the
wasp,
which
had
evidently
stung
it
into
submission
and
stupor
some
minutes
previous.
Tugging
bravely
at
her
charge,
the
little
black
Amazon
dragged
her
burden
nimbly
over
the
ground,
pulling
it
after
her
in
entire
disregard
of
obstacles,
now
this
way,
now
that,
with
the
same
exasperating
disregard
of
eternity
which
she
at
first
displayed,
and
at
length
deposited
it
on
the
top
of
a
little
flat
weed,
where
it
was
left,
while
for
five
minutes
more
she
pursued
the
same
zigzag,
apparently
senseless
meandering
over
the
entire
field
of
earth.
Now
she
seems
again
to
stumble
upon
her
neglected
prey,
and
taking
it
once
more
in
her
formidable
jaws,
she
lugs
it
again
for
a
long
helter-skelter
jaunt,
this
time
depositing
it
in
the
neighborhood
of
a
hole,
which
at
first
sight
might
have
been
considered
an
"ant-hole,"
from
the
debris
which
lay
scattered
about
in
its
vicinity.
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