“‘Little boy,’ said the spider, ‘can you not find anything better to do than to come and spoil my work?’
“‘Work again?’ said Robert.
“‘Yes,’ said the spider. ‘I should be sorry to live without work; and, if you will stop a minute, I will show you how I make my web.’ So saying, the spider passed his threads from bough to bough; formed it in one place, and tied it in another;—now tightened it;—now made it secure in its weaker parts; and, at last, gave it a shake in every part, to see that it was firm. ‘There,’ said he, ‘that task is done, and now for a fat fly for supper.’
“‘Task?—do not talk of tasks, I pray you,’ said Robert.
“‘It is no task to me, I can assure you,’ said the spider; ‘but, have the goodness to stand on one side, if you please, for I see you are not fond of work. If you won’t do any good, do not do any harm.’
“‘No,’ said Robert, ‘I came out to play.’
“‘Play, play?’ said the spider; ‘I never heard of such a thing.’
“Robert was glad to get away from the spider, and said, ‘You are an ugly looking thing,’ and left him. He had not gone far, however, before he saw a beautiful bird, with a twig in his bill. ‘Bird,’ said he, ‘I want to speak with you.’ ‘I have no time,’ said the bird,—‘I am busy,—I have my nest to build.’
“Presently a rabbit crept from the underwood, with some dried grass in its mouth. ‘Bunny! Bunny!’ said Robert. ‘I can’t stop,’ said the rabbit: ‘I am particularly engaged.’
“‘Well,’ thought the little boy, ‘everything seems very ill-natured;’ and so he wandered to the side of a rivulet, and began to throw pebbles in the water; whereupon he thought a beautiful little boy, with flowing locks, came up out of the spring, and said,—‘Why do you disturb me, little boy?’