"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "For I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, Who sleep upon your bed."

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly: "Dear friend, what can I do

“I have within my pantry

Good store of all that's nice:
I'm sure you're very welcome-
Will you please to take a slice?"

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly,
"Kind sir, that cannot be;
I've heard what's in your pantry,

And I do not wish to see."

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "You're witty and you're wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings! How brilliant are your eyes!

"I have a little looking-glass
Upon my parlor shelf;

If you'll step in one moment, dear,
You shall behold yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said,
"For what you're pleased to say,
And, bidding you good-morning now,
I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about,
And went into his den,

For well he knew the silly Fly

Would soon come back again:

So he wove a subtle web
In a little corner sly,
And set his table ready
To dine upon the fly.

Then came out to his door again,
And merrily did sing:

"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly,

With the pearl and silver wing;

"Your robes are green and purple There's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, But mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon

This silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words,

Came slowly flitting by;

With buzzing wings he hung aloft,
Then near and nearer drew,

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes,
And green and purple hue —

Thinking only of her crested head-
Poor, foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider,
And fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair,
Into his dismal den,

Within his little parlor

But she ne'er came out again.

And now, dear little children,
Who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words,
I pray you ne'er give heed.

Unto an evil counsellor

Close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale Of the Spider and the Fly.

Pride goeth before destruction
And a haughty spirit before a fall.

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.

A long time ago, there lived a widow, whose cottage was in a remote country village, many miles from London.

She had an only child named Jack, whom she indulged so much that he had little care for anything she said, and became idle, inattentive, and a spendthrift. It is true, his follies were not owing to an evil nature, but to his mother's never having checked him. She was poor, and he would not work; and she was forced to maintain herself and him by selling what she had.

At last, scarcely anything was left but a cow. The poor woman, with tears in her eyes, for the first time in her life, could not help blaming Jack.

"Oh, you wicked child," she said, "by your course of life you have at last brought us both to ruin. I have not money enough to buy a bit of bread for another day; nothing is left but my cow, and that must now be sold or we must starve!"

For a few minutes Jack felt a degree of shame, but it was soon over; and becoming very hungry for want of food, he teased his mother so much to let him sell the cow at the next village, that she at last consented.

As he was going along he met a butcher, who asked why he was driving the cow from home. Jack replied that he was going to sell it.

The butcher had some curious beans in his bag; they were of various colors, and attracted Jack's notice. This the butcher saw, and knowing Jack's easy temper, he thought he would take advantage of it, and offered them all for the cow.

The silly boy thought it a great offer; the bargain was instantly struck, and the cow exchanged for a few paltry beans.

When Jack told his mother, her patience quite forsook her; she threw the beans from the door. They flew in all directions, and some fell upon the newly ploughed ground of the garden. Then she threw her apron over her head, and cried bitterly. Jack tried to comfort her, but in vain; and, not having anything to eat, they both went supperless to bed.

Jack woke very early the next morning, and seeing something uncommon from his chamber window, he ran down stairs into the garden, where he soon found that some of the beans had taken root and sprung up surprisingly. The stalks were of great thickness, and had so entwined that they formed a ladder like a chain in appearance, and so high that the top appeared to be lost in the clouds.