how in the world shall I manage to live?
I might beg all my life, and nobody would give.
'Tis easy enough to be merry and sing,
But living on air is a different thing."

X.

The Spider was silent, and looked very grave--
'Twas a habit he had--the scheming old knave!
No Spider, intent on his labor of love,
Had more of the serpent, or less of the dove.

XI.

"To serve you would give me great pleasure," said he;
"Come into my palace, and tarry with me;
The Spider knows nothing of labor and care.
Come, you shall be welcome our bounty to share.

XII.

"I live like a king, and my wife like a queen,
In meadows where flowers are blooming and green;
'Tis sweet on the violet's bosom to lie,
And list to the stream that runs merrily by.

XIII.

"With us you shall mingle in scenes of delight,
All summer and winter, from morning till night;
And when 'neath the hills the sun sinks in the west,
Your head on a pillow of roses shall rest.

XIV.

"When miserly Bees shall return from their toils,
We'll catch them, and tie them, and feast on the spoils;
I'll lighten their burdens--I ought to know how--
My pantry is full of such gentlemen now."

XV.

The Bee did not wait to be urged any more,
But nodded his thanks, as he entered the door.
"Aha!" said the Spider, "I have you at last."
And he caught the poor urchin, and wound him up fast.

XVI.

The Bee, when aware of his perilous fate,
Recovered his wit, though a moment too late.
"O treacherous Spider! for shame!" said he,
"Is it thus you betray a poor, innocent Bee?"

XVII.

The cunning old Spider then laughed outright;
"Poor fellow!" he said, "you are in a sad plight!
Ha! ha! what a dunce you must be to suppose,
That the heart of a Spider should pity your woes!

[Illustration: THE BEE INSIDE THE WEB.]

XVIII.

"I never could boast of much honor or shame,
Though a little acquainted with both by name;
But I think if the Bees can a brother betray,
We Spiders are quite as good people as they.

XIX.

"On the whole, you have lived long enough, I opine;
So now, by your leave, I will hasten to dine;
You'll make a good dinner, it must be confess'd,
And the world, I am thinking, will pardon the rest."

XX.

This lesson for every one, little and great,
Is taught in that vagabond's tragical fate:
_Of him who is scheming your friend to ensnare_,
_Unless you've a pas