“Hush!” said the parsley.
“Hark!” said the goat’s-foot.
“She hasn’t eaten him yet!” whispered the gentleman-spiders to one another.
“I well know,” said the wooer, “how presumptuous it is of me to address such a request to you. What is a wretched man compared with a woman and, in particular, what is a silly fellow like myself to you, who are the largest and cleverest lady in all the hedge? But that is just what attracts me to you.”
She turned and looked at him. He nearly fell to the ground with fright and cast his eight eyes down before him. All the other gentleman-spiders rushed away at a furious pace.
“Now she’ll eat him,” said the goat’s-foot and the parsley.
“She is a sweet young thing!” said the twigs on the stubs.
“She’s a terrible woman!” said the mouse.
But she did not eat him.
She caught a fly that flew into her web just then and began leisurely to devour it, while attentively contemplating her suitor.