On the garden wall a brown [Illustration: Spider] was spinning her
[Illustration: Web]. Backwards and forwards she went, making hundreds of
little threads at once, twisting them into white ropes, arranging them
with her feet and the little hooks on her jaws, and gluing them together
where they crossed.
The [Illustration: Butterfly] stood on a [Illustration: Leaf] and
watched.
“Is that to put your eggs in?” she asked at last. “Or do you put them on
a cabbage?”
“On a cabbage! No, indeed!” said the [Illustration: Spider], staring
with all her eight eyes at once. “I make a soft nest of silken threads
to put them in.”
“That would not do for _my_ babies.” And the [Illustration: Butterfly]
nodded her head and looked very wise. “They would get their wings fast
in the threads.”
“Their what?” gasped the [Illustration: Spider], standing suddenly still
in the middle of her [Illustration: Web].
“Their wings,” repeated the innocent [Illustration: Butterfly]. “I don’t
think I dare let my children come to play with yours if you always hang
[Illustration: Nets] about.”
“But your children won’t have wings!” gasped the [Illustration: Spider]
again. “They won’t be baby [Illustration: Butterflies]!”
The [Illustration: Butterfly] laughed gaily.
“What a funny idea!” she said. “Your eggs hatch into baby [Illustration:
Spiders], don’t they? and they don’t have wings. And the hen’s
[Illustration: Eggs] hatch into little baby [Illustration: Chickens],
and they do have wings, like the hen. I saw them this morning running
after her, with all their wings stretched out. I suppose they are not
old enough to fly yet. When my babies can fly, I shall go back to the
flower garden.”
She flew away, leaving the astonished [Illustration: Spider] still
sitting in the middle of her [Illustration: Web] trying to understand it
all.
“Well!” she exclaimed to herself at last. “That’s what comes of having
no mother! I always did say that the family arrangements of the
[Illustration: Butterflies] are the most foolish I ever heard of.”
The [Illustration: Butterfly] was very busy, gumming her eggs safely
underneath a cabbage leaf. Each little jar hung by its narrow end, as
close to the next as could be.
“What a funny old [Illustration: Spider]!” she thought at last, when she
had finished. “I wonder if she has finished that [Illustration: Web].”
“Have you found a cabbage to please you?” called the [Illustration:
Spider].
“Well, I suppose it’s all right,” answered the [Illustration: Butterfly]
a little doubtfully. “I don’t seem to be able to think of a better place
to put my eggs, and I suppose the flowers will grow on the cabbage very
soon. My baby [Illustration: Butterflies] will not be able to fly far at
first to find honey.”
“You mean your creepy, crawly [Illustration: Caterpillars]!”
“Don’t you mean [Illustration: Spiders]?” asked the [Illustration:
Butterfly], trying to be sarcastic.
“Nothing so sensible! If you want to see----”
“Hush! hush! Don’t quarrel!” said the Breeze, shaking the [Illustration:
Spider]’s [Illustration: Web] and puffing at the [Illustration:
Butterfly]’s wings.
“She says that my babies will be creepy, crawly----”
“Come away! come away! Come and find some honey!” said the Breeze.
He shook the [Illustration: Leaf] and the [Illustration: Butterfly] fell
off. Then the Breeze so hurried her across the garden that when they
reached the flowers she was out of breath with laughing.
“I suppose that old [Illustration: Spider] is jealous because her
children will not be so pretty as my baby [Illustration: Butterflies]”
she said.