Now, when the fly, whose name, by the way, was Muscadel, flew off from the foxglove-bell with the magic jewel on his feathery foot, he flew straight to the Princess's boudoir and settled down on his favourite spot, the corner of the frame of her mirror. And there he sat and wondered how he could best use the magic jewel. And he thought so hard that he never noticed a large spider who spun a web right across the corner where he sat, and when he spread his wings to assist his meditations by a little exercise he was caught in the web.
'Aha!' said the spider, smiling greedily.
'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the fly.
'How nice you look!' said the spider.
Then very slowly and carefully she began to move towards him.
'What a terrible thing it is to be a fly!' said he. 'I wish I was a spider.'
And, of course, instantly he was. He broke the web and scrambled down the mirror, for he was still horribly frightened of the other spider. He got out of the window and down into the garden, and hid himself under a leaf of a burdock, which was there because the gardener was a lazy fellow and neglected his business.
But it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Before Muscadel had got his breath after the shock of that dreadful web he saw a slow, wrinkled-skinned creature, with bright yellow eyes, quite close to him. It was a toad, and he knew that toads eat spiders.
'Oh, a spider's life isn't worth living!' he cried; 'I wish I was a toad.'
And, of course, he was, for the magic jewel was still on his front foot.