This afternoon, my brother sent me the following e-mail message with the subject line "Arachnaphoibles":
"When I got home from work today I went to the garage to do some cleaning and tidying in preparation for the summer season of painting. After an hour of happy and pleasurable work I sat down to read at random from the Norton Anthology of American Literature. As I was opening the book I dropped it and it fell open to the Whitman page containing the poem `The Noiseless, Patient Spider' so I started to read where Fortuna bade me. I finished reading it just as Ingrid called me in for dinner. I reached for my coffee cup and on the bottom was a small brown spider."
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