“Will you walk in, pretty fly?”
“What handsome wings you’ve got,” says the spider to the fly,
“If I had got such a pair, I in the air would fly
’Tis useless all my wishing, and only idle talk,
You can fly up in the air, while I’m obliged to walk.
Will you walk in, pretty fly?”
“For the last time, now, I ask you, will you walk in, Mr. Fly?”
“No! if I do, may I be shot! I’m off! so now good by.”
Then up he springs, but both his wings were in the web caught fast!
The spider laughed, “ha, ha, my boy, I have you safe at last.”