Now, I wonder whether any little girl who reads this would have been wise enough to do what Priscilla did next? She saw now that at the very instant--really, at the beginning of the instant--she began to move, the bumble-bee would stop doing all these remarkable things. So she just lay quietly back in the deep, soft grass and half closed her eyes--or, perhaps, it was three-quarters--and must have looked exactly as though she were asleep. Then some things happened in that big oak tree which I’m sure never, never would have happened if the bumble-bee had known that, really, Priscilla was perfectly wide awake. Indeed, his conduct was so very singular that Priscilla almost stopped being surprised. You couldn’t blame her, though, for giving a little start when she saw that he had changed his color from yellow to all black, and that, instead of buzzing about her, he was running along the limb of the tree on all his six legs, just exactly like--Why, really, he’d changed into a big black spider. To tell the truth, just at this point Priscilla was so astonished again that she couldn’t so much as move an eyelid. The spider came running along the limb of the big oak until he was straight above Priscilla’s head. Then he stopped suddenly and began to fumble in some sort of a back pocket in his black velvet coat. The next moment a delicate silken thread came dangling down, down, down, and, before she fairly understood what was happening, Priscilla felt it tickling her very puggish little nose. Of course she was indignant, and raised her hand and brushed the ugly thing away. Only--the thread stuck to her fingers, and when she tried to wipe it off with her other hand, it stuck to that hand, too. And the miserable old spider, holding the thread lightly over one claw and pressing the other against the side of his puffy black stomach, was looking down and laughing fit to shake his eyes out. But that was only the beginning. Priscilla was no coward, but you can guess how she felt when suddenly that old spider sat up straight and commenced to whirl his claws around each other like an electric fan, and the web commenced to roll up, and the girl began to be drawn right straight up into the tree. Even a grown person would have been astonished. And the spider kept on laughing. In almost no time she was up in the tree, and truly she didn’t feel much bigger than the spider, and yet it didn’t seem to her that she’d lost much flesh since she left the ground. It was all very puzzling. “That’s what I call bringing you up with a round turn,” said the spider, laughing immodestly--or immoderately, Priscilla wasn’t quite sure which of the words her mother used in such cases. His jacket was so tight that it seemed it must burst the very next giggle. “Now, to business,” he remarked, suddenly, tucking his line away in his coat-tail pocket, and looking severely at Priscilla, as though it were she, and not himself, who had been behaving so foolishly.