It had turned over in his fingers.
"Oh! I don't know why," he declared, "spiders have always frozen my blood!"
Dr. Weber began to laugh, and I, who shared the feelings of Sir Thomas, exclaimed:
"Yes, cousin, you ought to take this villainous beast out of the box—it is disgusting—it spoils all the rest."
"Little chump," he said, his eyes sparkling, "what makes you look at it? If you don't like it, go take yourself off somewhere."
Evidently he had taken offense; and Sir Thomas, who was then before the window contemplating the mountain, turned suddenly, took me by the hand, and said to me in a manner full of good will:
"Your tutor, Frantz, sets great store by his spider; we like the trees better—the verdure. Come, let's go for a walk."
"Yes, go," cried the doctor, "and come back for supper at six o'clock."
Then raising his voice:
"No hard feelings, Sir Hawerburch."