Crondas grew more ghastly than before and, trying to control his voice, faltered out: "I confess. Have mercy, my lord! I killed your brother because he threatened to tell you of my dishonesty toward you. I took his purse and ring, and hid them in this man's house, to make you think it was he who had sinned. I am the guilty one. Do with me as you will. Punish me in his place." The lord did as Crondas had said, and the murderer suffered for his sin instead of the peasant, who was made steward in Crondas's place. No one pleaded for the guilty man's life, for he had been hard and cruel, and no man was his friend. Now all the people of the country felt the good God himself had sent the little red lady-bug that it might teach the lord to administer justice. Since then everyone who sees such an insect takes care not to hurt it, and says: "That is the insect beloved of God. Perhaps it is on its way now to help someone. I would not harm it, for my hand would be stained with blood." And the story has been handed down from peasant to peasant, and is known throughout the whole of France. And that is why the lady-bug is called in France "La petite bete au bon Dieu," which means "the little insect beloved of God"; and that is why everyone has reverence for it and loves it, and would not take its life. SUMMER SPINNERS An angular spider weaves Great webs between the trees, Webs that are witches' sieves. And honey- and bumble-bees Go droning among the leaves Like the fairies' oboës. MADISON CAWEIN. THE STORY OF ARACHNE (GREEK MYTH) Once upon a time there lived a beautiful Grecian maiden named Arachne, who could card and spin, weave and embroider with marvelous skill. She became so proud of her art that she boasted no one in the whole land could equal her. So great was her fame that many traveled from afar to see the beautiful garments which she made. Whenever she sat at her loom a group of people stood near so that they might see her work in the making. Indeed, it is said, that even the nymphs left their haunts among streams and groves to behold the grace and ease with which this maiden worked. One day a group of people stood watching Arachne at her loom. Their admiration knew no bounds. They looked at each other in astonishment. "See how deftly she rolls the wool into soft fleecy balls," said one. "And with what delicate grace she cards it," said another. "It is as light and fine as the mists of the morning. She is wonderful, indeed." "Surely the maiden has more than human skill," added the first speaker. "I believe Minerva, the goddess of spinning and weaving, taught her how to throw that swift shuttle."