“Sit on them and hatch them,” said the goat’s-foot. “We will weave a roof over you, so the sun won’t inconvenience you in the least.”
“Lay up some small flies for the children, for when they come out,” said the mouse. “You have no idea what those young ones can eat.”
“Practise singing to them a bit,” said the twigs on the stubs.
“Stuff!” said the spider.
She laid four more heaps. Then she began to spin a fine, close covering of white threads to wrap each heap in separately.
“She’s not quite heartless,” said the mouse.
The spider took a heap, went down the hedge and buried it in the ground. Then up again for the next heap and so on until all the five heaps were buried.
“There!” she said. “Now that’s done with! And they won’t catch me at it again. Now at least I am a free and independent woman once more.”
“A nice woman!” said the mouse. “A shame and a disgrace to her sex, that’s what she is!”
“Such a dear little bird!” said the twigs on the stubs, sarcastically.