Daisy knelt down and peeped carefully ; but all she saw was a little brown spider , who looked very much surprised to see visitors so early . `` I do n't like spiders , '' said Daisy , much disappointed . `` There are things about spiders as interesting to hear as fairy tales , '' said Wee . `` This is Mrs. Epeira Diadema ; and she is a respectable , industrious little neighbor . She spreads her tent , but sits under a leaf near by , waiting for her breakfast . She wraps her eggs in a soft silken bag , and hides them in some safe chink , where they lie till spring . The eggs are prettily carved and ornamented , and so hard that the baby spiders have to force their way out by biting the shell open and poking their little heads through . The mother dies as soon as her eggs are safely placed , and the spiderlings have to take care of themselves . '' `` How do you know about it , Aunt Wee ? You talk as if Mrs. Eppyra -- or whatever her name is -- had told you herself . Did she ? '' asked Daisy , feeling more interested in the brown spider . `` No ; I read it in a book , and saw pictures of the eggs , web , and family . I had a live one in a bottle ; and she spun silken ladders all up and down , and a little room to sleep in . She ate worms and bugs , and was very amiable and interesting till she fell ill and died . '' `` I should like to see the book ; and have a spider-bottle , so I could take care of the poor little orphans when they are born . Good-by , ma'am . I shall call again ; for you are ` most as good as a fairy there in your pretty tent , with a white clover for your bed . '' Daisy walked on a few steps , and then stopped to say : `` What does that bird mean by calling ` Hurry up , hurry up ? ' He keeps flying before us , and looking back as if he wanted to show me something . ''
`` Let me XXXXX what he says .
asked fell hear hides read sleep spreads spun talk wraps