a merchant brought some linen to a fair. that's a thing everybody wants to buy, so it would have been a sin in the merchant if he had complained of his sale. there was no keeping the buyers back: the shop was at times crammed full.

seeing how rapidly the goods went off, an envious spider was tempted by the merchant's gains. she took it into her head to weave goods for sale herself, and determined to open a little shop for them in a window corner, seeking thereby to undermine the merchant's success.

she commenced her web, spun the whole night long, and then set out her wares on view. from her shop she did not stir, but remained sitting there, puffed up with pride, and thinking, "so soon as the day shall dawn will all buyers be enticed to me."

well, the day did dawn. but what then? there came a broom, and the ingenious creatures and her little shop were swept clean away.

our spider went wild with vexation.

"there!" she cried, "what's the good of expecting a just reward? and yet i ask the whole world—whose work is the finer, mine or that merchant's?"

"yours, to be sure," answered the bee. "who would venture to deny the fact? every one knew that long ago. but what is the good of it if there's neither warmth nor wear in it?"