Soon after, the spider came up again and sat on the leaf of the water-lily and smoothed herself out. "You were looking down at me, weren't you?" she said. "Yes ... I have quite a nice place, haven't I? A regular smart little parlour. You must know I am an animal that loves fresh air, like Mr. Reed-Warbler and yourself. And, as my business happens to lie in the water, it was easiest for me to arrange it this way. It's thoroughly cosy down there, I assure you. And, in the winter, I lock the door and sleep and snore the whole day long." "Have you any eggs?" asked Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "Rather!" said the spider. "I have everything that belongs to a well-regulated household. I have any number of eggs. As I lay them, by degrees, I hang them up in bundles from the ceiling of my parlour." "Don't you hatch them?" "No, dear lady. My heart is not so warm as that. And it's not necessary either. They come out nicely by themselves." "Did your husband help you build the parlour?" asked Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "He had enough to do building for himself, the booby!" she said. "You needn't think I would have him in my parlour, He made himself a little room beside it; and then there was the tunnel between us and that was really more than enough." "_Was?_" asked Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "Is he no longer with you, then?... Oh, you mustn't take my question amiss, if it pains you. I find it so difficult to understand the domestic conditions of the lower classes.... Perhaps you don't even know where he is?" "Why, I should just think I did know!" replied the spider. "More or less. For I ate him last Wednesday." "Goodness gracious me!" said Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "He was in my way," said the spider. "I tumbled over him wherever I went. And what was I to do with him? So I ate him up; and a tough little brute he was!" "She ate her husband on Wednesday and she ate her mother last year," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "Sing to me, or that terrible woman will be the death of me!" But the reed-warbler himself was so frightened that he could not get out a note. And the spider did not care in the least. "Yes ... mother," she said. "That was only out of hunger. I didn't eat her alone, either. My brothers and sisters shared in the feast. We were famishing and there was nothing else to eat, for it was well in the autumn. Then mother came along, just in the nick of time, and so we ate her." She jumped into the water again. But Mrs. Reed-Warbler did not sleep a wink that night. She kept on whispering to herself: "She ate her mother ... she ate her husband on Wednesday...." "Come, don't think about it," said the reed-warbler. "Why, your own mother was eaten by the hawk; and, if you eat me, it will be for love!" [Illustration: 'HE WAS IN MY WAY,' SAID THE SPIDER] "You ought to be ashamed to jest in such times as these," said she. "I think all times are alike," he said. "Those we live in always seem the worst."