Tiny drops glittered on every thread as the light shone through the gossamer curtain, and a soft breath of air made it tremble as if about to blow it away.
"It's mighty pretty, but it will fly off, just as the others did.

I never saw such a chap as that spider is.

He keeps on spinning a new one every day, for they always get broke, and he don't seem to be discouraged a mite," said Ben, glad to change the subject, as she knew he would be.
"That is the way he gets his living, he spins his web and waits for his daily bread,--or fly, rather; and it always comes, I fancy.

By-and-by you will see that pretty trap full of insects, and Mr.Spider will lay up his provisions for the day.

After that he doesn't care how soon his fine web blows away." "I know him; he's a handsome feller, all black and yellow, and lives up in that corner where the shiny sort of hole is.