ldered the thorn, and poised herself once more upon the edge
of the bowl.

The Spider was still struggling, but more feebly, and Miss Muffet could
hear him muttering to himself, "Grey, threaded with silver and
sparkling dewdrops, oh, my masterpiece!"

"No!" she said, flinging the spear down on the tuft behind her. "I
_can't_ kill him. What does it matter if I turn into a mortal. I have
never done any work or made a masterpiece. Let him eat me if he likes.
I will _save_ him!"

"Here!" she said in a louder voice. "Give me one of your feet, and I
will pull you out."

"Ugh! how ugly he is," she continued to herself, as the Spider drew
nearer and lifted up one of his feet. She knelt down on the brim, and
stretching out her tiny hands seized the foot, and pulled him slowly up
the side of the bowl.

"Now he'll eat me!" she thought, as he stood for a moment shaking
himself on the edge.

But no, without a word he was gone, scuttling straight off to the barn
as fast as he could run. Was it possible that _he_ was afraid of _her_!

Miss Muffet looked round. Behind her on the ground lay the big thorn
with which she had set out to kill the Spider.

"I wonder it I have been a coward to spare him after all," she said as
she flew home. "Anyway, I shall know to-morrow morning. Perhaps this
is the last fly I shall ever have, and when I wake up to-morrow I shall
be just an ordinary little girl with no wings, and a serge frock and
pigtails." And murmuring "Coward, coward, I shall be an ordinary
little girl to-morrow!" she fell asleep.

But when she woke up to-morrow morning she found she was a fairy
still--wings and all; and moreover she found spread over her the
daintiest and most beautiful counterpane in the world, made of grey
threads woven with silver and diamented with dewdrops all glistening
and quivering in the morning sunlight. It was indeed a masterpiece!

* * * * * *

"Look what a lovely spider's web there is under the gooseberry bush!"
said the farmer's little girl, when she came to fetch the empty bowl of
curds and whey that morning.

PUSSY CAT, PUSSY CAT

"_The man who loses his opportunity loses himself_"

"Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been?"
"I've been to London to visit the Queen."
"Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, what did you there?"
"I frightened a little mouse under her chair."

You would never think to look at Thomas now, as he lies blinking in
fro