He took one step into the narrow passageway; and he was surprised enough to find that he could walk in it without the least difficulty. “I wonder how he has done that,” he thought. “Somehow he has made the grass as tall as I am, and the brier bushes are as big as any tree in the forest. I wonder what strange thing that is a way up above my head. It looks like a mushroom, but it is as high as the roof of a house.” Suddenly it burst upon him that this really was a mushroom and that, instead of making the passage big, the Slippery Spider had made him so little that when the dreadful creature caught hold of him and dragged him down into a cavern, he could not do anything to save himself. The cavern was dark as dark, but after his eyes were a little used to the darkness, he could see that a strong spider-web had been drawn across the opening. He felt in his tiny pocket for his tiny knife and began to cut away at the stout cords of the web; but he could not make even the smallest break. “That’s right,” called the thin, squeaky voice, “you are a good jailer; I shan’t have to watch you.” Silverboy looked up, and there was the Slippery Spider peering through the web, twice as tall as his prisoner. It did not seem quite so dark as at first, and Silverboy could see what an ugly grin was on his face. “I suppose you don’t know,” said the Slippery Spider, with a hateful chuckle, “that this is a magic web, and that every time you cut a thread, you make it exactly seven times as strong as it was before. Oh, you’re a good jailer, you are!” and again he laughed, the most sneering, malicious laugh that can be imagined. At last he went away, leaving Silverboy in the darkness. He came back once more for a moment and called:-- “I say, you’re not fat enough yet. When you get fatter, I shall eat you. You won’t have long to wait.” Poor Silverboy, there he sat and wondered if there was any way to escape. He thought of his father and mother and sister. “I shall never, never see them again,” he sobbed; and he threw himself on the cold floor of the cave and cried and cried. Suddenly he felt a little hand wiping away his tears with the softest and daintiest of handkerchiefs. The hand was so smooth and gentle that at first he pretended not to know that it was there for fear it would go away. Then a sweet little voice said softly:-- “Boy, poor boy, don’t cry.” “Who are you?” asked Silverboy. “How did you come here? Did the Slippery Spider bring you, too?” “I was walking alone,” said the sweet voice, “and I saw the lane. It looked pretty, for the briers were in bloom, and I started to come into it; but before I knew it, I was in this dreadful den.” “And did he make you small as he made me?” asked Silverboy. “Oh, no, I am just as tall as ever.”