Pallas Athena was not only the goddess of wisdom, you know, but especially the goddess of young girls, presiding over the chastity, the filial piety, and the domestic occupations of virgins; and she was very angry at the conceit of this girl.

So she said to her, "You have boasted that you can weave as well as I can; now let me see you weave!" So Arachne was obliged to sit down at her loom and weave in the presence of the goddess; and the goddess also wove, far surpassing the weaving of Arachne.

When the weaving was done, the goddess asked the girl, "Now see! which is the better, my work or yours ?" And Arachne was obliged to confess that she had been defeated and put to shame.

But the goddess was not thoroughly satisfied; to punish Arachne, she touched her lightly with the distaff, saying, "Spin forever!" and thereupon Arachne was changed into a spider, which forever spins and weaves perishable films of perishable shiny thread.

Poetically we still may call a spider Arachne.
I have here a little poem of a touching character entitled "Arachne," by Rose Terry Cooke,--one of the symbolic poems which are becoming so numerous in these days of newer and deeper philosophy.