“Oh, nothing worth mentioning,” said the Grasshopper, getting up with a limp. “You young rascal, what—why—there, take that.”
“Oh!” sobbed the young Cricket, pointing with a look of surprise at the Spider; “what a sight!”
He might well say so, for the bloated old Spider had been flattened out by the weight of the Mole to nearly twice her size, and was apparently quite dead. In great concern, the host and hostess ran to raise her.
“Are you hurt, dear?” asked the Butterfly, anxiously.
“Hurt!” exclaimed the Grasshopper, pushing her aside; “don’t you see she’s burst!”
“Oh me! I’m so sorry,” exclaimed the Mole, wringing his fore-paws.
At that moment there was a shout of eager expectation, for the Spider was seen to move. The Butterfly knelt at her side, and bending down, said tenderly—
“Tell me, dear, has he burst you?”
“N–no, n–not—qu–quite,” answered the Spider faintly; “I’m only f–flattened. Let some of you sq–squeeze m–my sides.”
Immediately a dozen of the young Crickets surrounded the old lady, and pressed her sides with all their might. This had the effect of raising her back a little, and enabling her to draw a good long breath, which speedily raised her up to her original size.