"Yes," said the reed-warbler, with a very serious face.

The spider could not resist fumbling at the flap with one of her legs:

"Ow!" she yelled suddenly.

She darted back with a jerk and the leg remained caught in the bladder. It was drawn inside in a twinkling and the flap closed and the leg was gone.

"Give me back my leg, please," said the spider, angrily.

"Have I your leg?" asked the bladder-wort. "Well then, you must have touched the flap. What did you do that for, dear friend? I made a point of warning you!"

"You said I was too big."

"So you are, worse luck! But, of course, I can easily eat you in bits, like this."

"It's not nice of you, seeing that you're my landlord," said the spider. "But as I have seven legs left, I suppose I must forgive you."

"Do, dear friend," said the bladder-wort. "I must tell you, I am not really master of myself when those flaps are meddled with. Then I have to eat what is inside of them. So be careful next time!"