"I liked to watch the ermine-moth community the best. They spin a commodious tent; and, wherever they wander over the tree, they carry a thread with them, so that they may not lose the way. Birds can do no more than strike their wings against the elastic bridges thus formed: they cannot penetrate the lines.
"Well, all the caterpillars laughed at my folly in searching for the humming-bird's husband; and perhaps they were right. I now have reason to despair of ever meeting him, for he never returned to where the nest had been; and a slow crawling caterpillar cannot hope to pursue the flight of a bird."
Here the Caterpillar paused abruptly: the Wasp, interested alone in startling incident or romantic adventure, was yawning.
"Really, I beg your pardon," he had the grace to say; "I did not sleep well last night."
But apologies or entreaties did no manner of good. The Caterpillar steadfastly refused to continue his tale.
"Very likely I was growing tiresome," he replied in an injured tone. Yet he made no further remark; for the Caterpillar, like other slow persons, was apt to be obstinate. This made affairs rather stiff and uncomfortable; so they were all glad to retire for the night.
The next evening, the Caterpillar was still sulky, and resisted all attempts of the Teapot to coax him into better humor. The Cricket wisely concluded to divert matters, by inviting the Spider to entertain them.
"I believe I am something of an author," said the Spider, "although I have never written for any of the magazines of the day. I will tell you a story I composed last summer, if you like."