the shade of the blackberry vine, close to the ground, completely at the mercy of the cruel spider, who intended her to die by slow starvation. Hanging with her little head downward--a fearful position to be in--she soon felt she would not last many more minutes. She whimpered softly, and her cries for help grew feebler and feebler. Who was there to hear? Her folk at home knew nothing of this catastrophe, so they couldn't come hurrying to her rescue. Suddenly down, in the grass, she heard some one growling: "Make way! I'm coming." Maya's agonized heart began to beat stormily. She recognized the voice of Bobbie, the dung-beetle. "Bobbie," she called, as loud as she could, "Bobbie, dear Bobbie!" "Make way! I'm coming." "But I'm not in your way, Bobbie," cried Maya. "Oh dear, I'm hanging over your head. The spider has caught me." "Who are you?" asked Bobbie. "So many people know me. You know they do, don't you?" "I am Maya--Maya, the bee. Oh please, please help me!" "Maya? Maya?-- Ah, now I remember. You made my acquaintance several weeks ago.-- The deuce! You are in a bad way, if I must say so myself. You certainly do need my help. As I happen to have a few moments' time, I won't refuse." "Oh, Bobbie, can you tear these threads?" "Tear those threads! Do you mean to insult me?" Bobbie slapped the muscles of his arm. "Look, little girl. Hard as steel. No match for that in strength. I can do more than smash a few cobwebs. You'll see something that'll make you open your eyes." Bobbie crawled up on the leaf, caught hold of the thread by which Maya was hanging, clung to it, then let go of the leaf. The thread broke, and they both fell to the ground. "That's only the beginning," said Bobbie.-- "But Maya, you're trembling. My dear child, you poor little girl, how pale you are! Now who would be so afraid of death? You must look death calmly in the face as I do. So. I'll unwrap you now." Maya could not utter a syllable. Bright tears of joy ran down her cheeks. She was to be free again, fly again in the sunshine,
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