So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner, sly, Then he went out to his door again, and merrily did sing, "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple-there's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead." Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by ; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue ; Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish thing!-At last Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlour-but she ne'er came out again! -And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed: Unto an evil counsellor, close heart, and ear, and eye, And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly. THINGS BY THEIR RIGHT NAMES. Charles. FRANK, you grow very lazy.-Last winter you used to tell me stories, and now you never tell me any; and I am quite ready to hear you. Pray, dear Frank, let me have a pretty one. Frank. With all my heart-what shall it be? F. A bloody murder! Well then-Once upon a time, some men, dressed all alike C. With black crapes over their faces. F. No; they had steel caps on-having crossed a dark plain, wound cautiously along the skirts of a deep wood C. They were ill-looking fellows I dare say. F. I cannot say so; on the contrary, they were tall men leaving, on their right hand, an old ruined meeting-house on the hill. C. At midnight, just as the clock struck twelve, was it not? F. No, really; it was on a fine balmy summer's morning and moved forwards, one behind another C. As still as death, creeping along under the fences. F. On the contrary, they walked remarkably upright; and so far from endeavouring to be hushed and still, they made a loud noise as they came along, with several sorts of instruments. C. But, Frank, they would be found out immediately. F. They did not seem to wish to conceal themselves on the contrary, they gloried in what they were about. They moved forwards, I say, to where stood a neat, pretty town, which they set on fireC. Set a town on fire? Wicked wretches! F. And while it was burning, they murderedtwenty thousand men. C. O fie! You don't intend I shall believe all this. I thought all along you were making up a tale, as you often do ; but you shall not catch me this time. What! they lay still, I suppose, and let these fellows cut their throats? F. No, truly, they resisted as long as they could. C. How should these men kill twenty thousand people, pray? F. Why not? the murderers were thirty thousand. C. O, now I have found you out! You mean a BATTLE. F. Indeed I do. I do not know of any murders half so bloody. THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL, AND THE GRASS- COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste On the smooth shaven grass, by the side of a wood, And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, And there came the Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too, And all their relations, green, orange, and blue. And there came the Moth, with her plumage of down, Then the sly little Dormouse peeped out of his hole, A mushroom the table, and on it was spread With steps most majestic, the Snail did advance, Then as the evening gave way to the shadows of night, Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out with his light; So home let us hasten, while yet we can see; For no watchman is waiting for you or for me. ON A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAU, KILLING A LITTLE BIRD. A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you, Should wiser be than to pursue But you have killed a tiny bird, Nor did you kill that you might eat For him, though chased with furious heat, Nor was he of the thievish sort, you My dog! what remedy remains, I see you, after all my pains, BEAU'S REPLY. SIR, when I flew to seize the bird You cried-forbear-but in my breast 'Twas nature, Sir, whose strong behest Impell'd me to the deed. |