The Spider
"Oh,
look
at
that
great
ugly
spider!"
said
Ann;
And
screaming,
she
brush'd
it
away
with
her
fan;
"'Tis
a
frightful
black
creature
as
ever
can
be,
I
wish
that
it
would
not
come
crawling
on
me.
"
"Indeed,"
said
her
mother,
"I'll
venture
to
say,
The
poor
thing
will
try
to
keep
out
of
your
way;
For
after
the
fright,
and
the
fall,
and
the
pain,
It
has
much
more
occasion
than
you
to
complain.
"But
why
should
you
dread
the
poor
insect,
my
dear?
If
it
hurt
you,
there'd
be
some
excuse
for
your
fear;
But
its
little
black
legs,
as
it
hurried
away,
Did
but
tickle
your
arm,
as
they
went,
I
dare
say.
"For
them
to
fear
us
we
must
grant
to
be
just,
Who
in
less
than
a
moment
can
tread
them
to
dust;
But
certainly
we
have
no
cause
for
alarm;
For,
were
they
to
try,
they
could
do
us
no
harm.
"Now
look!
it
has
got
to
its
home;
do
you
see
What
a
delicate
web
it
has
spun
in
the
tree?
Why
here,
my
dear
Ann,
is
a
lesson
for
you:
Come
learn
from
this
spider
what
patience
can
do!
"And
when
at
your
business
you're
tempted
to
play,
Recollect
what
you
see
in
this
insect
to-day,
Or
else,
to
your
shame,
it
may
seem
to
be
true,
That
a
poor
little
spider
is
wiser
than
you.
"
