“Well, I am not saying anything about my legs,” remarked a fat little spider, as Daddy tried to bow to Ruth, “though I have eight of them. I usually travel in a balloon, which I make myself. Oh, I tell you, it is fine to go “Sailing mid the golden air In skiffs of yielding gossamer.” [Illustration: “‘WHY, IT’S DADDY LONG LEGS’”] “Poetry,” said a handsome spider, wheeling back and forth on a silken bridge swung between two bushes. “I could have learned some too, but I didn’t know it was allowed. Of course I can build bridges. Who is asking that idiotic question? You?” And eight glaring eyes were fixed upon Ruth. “Maybe you don’t know that spiders were the first bridge builders and when men suspend their great bridges to-day they follow our ideas and ways, without giving us the least credit; but that’s the way with men.” “Well, we can’t expect to regulate men,” answered Mrs. Orb Weaver, “and, besides, it’s time to tell my story, and then you will know why we get our name, and why we are such wonderful spinners. Now listen, all of you: “Once upon a time——” Ruth chuckled contentedly. All nice stories began, “Once upon a time.” “Please go on,” she whispered eagerly. “Then don’t interrupt me,” said Mrs. Orb Weaver, and she began again: “Once upon a time, ever so long ago, there lived in a beautiful land called Greece a maiden named Arachne. Arachne was not only fair to look upon, but she could also spin and weave in a fashion so wondrously fine that all who saw her work said that the great Athena herself must have been her teacher. Now this surely was praise enough, but Arachne was vain. ‘Nay,’ she said, ‘no one has taught me, and gladly will I weave with the great goddess herself, and thus prove the skill to be all my own.’ Her words only shocked all who heard them, but Arachne cared not, and again repeated her wish to try her skill with Athena. “So it happened that as she sat spinning one day an old woman, leaning on a staff, stopped by her loom. “‘Child,’ she said in a gentle voice, ‘a great gift is yours.’ “Arachne tossed her head, and answered scornfully: “‘Well do I know it, yet Athena dares not try her skill with mine.’ “‘Dares not?’ repeated the old dame, in tones that should have made Arachne tremble. ‘Dares not, say you? Foolish maiden, be warned in time.’ “But Arachne was too proud to yield, and she still persisted, even though the old dame had dropped her mantle, and stood revealed as the great goddess herself. “‘Be it so,’ said Athena, sternly, and both began to weave. “For hours their shuttles flew in and out. Arachne’s work was wonderful, but for her theme she had chosen the weakness and the failure of the gods. Athena pictured forth their greatness. The sky was her loom, and from the rainbow she chose her colours, and when her work was finished and its splendours spanned the heavens, Arachne realized that she had failed.