"Spider!"
"'The spider spends his time mostly in cobwebs which he digilently spins between posts and catches flies to eat them. They are different coloured and sizes and have legs in pairs. Spiders also spin their webs in corners or in weeds or on a fence and sometimes in the grass. They are more able to get about quicker than catapillars or fishing worms, but cannot fly such as pinching bugs, lightning bugs, and birds because having no wings, nor jump as far as the grass hoper——'"
"Grasshopper!" Herbert shouted.
"I'm readin' it the way it's spelled," Florence explained. "Anyway, it don't make much sense."
Herbert was at least enough of an author to be furious. "Lay it down!" he said bitterly. "And go on back home to your dolls."
"Dolls certainly would be cleaner than vile bugs," Florence retorted, tossing the book upon the table. "But in regards to that, I haven't had any," she went on, airily—"not for years and years and years and——"
He interrupted her, his voice again plaintive. "See here, Florence, how do you expect me to get my work done, with you everlastin'ly talkin' and goin' on around here like this? Can't you see I've got somep'n pretty important on my hands?"
Florence became thoughtful. "I never did see as many bugs before, all together this way," she said. "What you goin' to do with 'em, Herbert?"
"I'm makin' my expairaments."
But her thoughtfulness increased. "It seems to me," she said slowly:—"Herbert, it seems to me there must be some awful inter'sting thing we could do with so many bugs all together like this."