Her Birthday

of creatures. Nothing would please her
better, could she but dwarf herself into an
‘“‘aglet-baby,” than to climb into those filmy
meshes and have a chat in the sunshine with
the wily ogre. She has no mistrust, she feels
no repulsion from anything that has life.
There is a warm place in her heart for the
cool, dry toad, and she loves the horned
snail, if not for his own sake, at least for his
* darling little house ” and the silver track he
leaves on the gravel.

Of course she wanted a story about a
spider. I might have anticipated as much.
Well, there was King Robert the Bruce, who
was saved by aspider from his enemies when
they were seeking his life.

“And if they had found him, would
they have sworded off his head? Really,
father? Like Oliver Crumball did Charles
King’s?”

Her grammar was defective, but her
surmises were beyond dispute; they would.
Then there was the story of Sir Samuel
Brown, who took his idea of a suspension
bridge from a web which hung — but W. V.
wanted something much more engrossing.

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