Now you see how it was with that little fellow, before he read the book I gave him. He had got the notion that a child's book could not be amusing--could not be worth reading--unless it was filled with such nonsense as there was in the "funny book" he called for. He had not got a _taste_ for reading anything else. As soon as he did get such a taste, he liked that kind of reading the best; because, besides making him laugh a little now and then, it put some thoughts into his head--gave him some hints which would be worth something to him in after life. Now, I presume there are a great many boys and girls, who love to read such nonsense as one finds in comic almanacs, and books like "Bluebeard," and "Jack the Giant Killer," but who, like the youth I met in the book store, could very easily learn to like useful books just as well, and better too, if they would only take them up, and read them. Why, my little friends, a book need not be dull and dry, because it is not all nonsense. Uncle Frank don't mean to have a long face on, when he writes for young people. He believes in laughing. He likes to laugh himself, and he likes to see his young friends laugh, too, sometimes. I hope, indeed, that you will find this little book amusing, as well as useful; though I should be very sorry if it were not useful, as well as amusing. [Illustration: THE SPIDER'S INVITATION.] III. THE SCHEMING SPIDER. A FABLE FOR MANY IN GENERAL, AND A FEW IN PARTICULAR. I. A bee who had chased after pleasure all day, And homeward was lazily wending his way, Fell in with a Spider, who called to the Bee: "Good evening! I trust you are well," said he. II. The bee was quite happy to stop awhile there-- He always had leisure enough and to spare-- "Good day, Mr. Spider," he said, with a bow, "I thank you, I feel rather poorly, just now." III. "'Tis nothing but work, with all one's might-- 'Tis nothing but work, from morning till night. I wish I were dead, Mr. Spider; you know I might as well die as to drag along so." IV. The Spider pretended to pity the Bee-- For a cunning old hypocrite spider was he-- "I'm sorry to see you so poorly," he said; And he whispered his wife, "He will have to be bled." V. "'Tis true sir,"--the knave! every word is a lie-- "That rather than live so, 'twere better to die. 'Twere better to finish the thing, as you say, Than to live till you're old, and die every day. VI. "The life that you lead, it may do very well For the beaver's rude hut, or the honey bee's cell; But it never would suit a gay fellow like me. I love to be merry--I love to be free." VII. "In hoarding up riches you're wasting your time; And--pray, sir, excuse me--such waste is a crime. And then to be guilty of avarice, too! Alas! how I pity such sinners as you!" VIII.