It is these whom we meet at times, wandering aimlessly and dragging their bag behind them.

Sooner or later, however, the vagrants return home; and the month of August is not over before a straw rustled in any burrow will bring the mother up, with her wallet slung behind her.

I am able to procure as many as I want and, with them, to indulge in certain experiments of the highest interest.
It is a sight worth seeing, that of the Lycosa dragging her treasure after her, never leaving it, day or night, sleeping or waking, and defending it with a courage that strikes the beholder with awe.

If I try to take the bag from her, she presses it to her breast in despair, hangs on to my pincers, bites them with her poison-fangs.

I can hear the daggers grating on the steel.