(no subject)
He woke up feeling somewhat better this morning. He asked once more to be allowed to look out the window. He had to prove to himself that the outside world still existed in some capacity, that it was possible to someday escape this room.
He had requested his books and the nurse had brought them for him soon after. He sat now reading one of his favorite poetry anthologies. He carefully ripped out a few pages and tucked them into an envelope. He adressed it to Arusigawa Juri and gave it to the mail attendant when he saw her pass in the hall.
In return she handed him a letter. He looked at it and the color drained from his face.
"No more letters..."
But he knew in his heart it was impossible to run away and that a visit from the chairman was pending.
(Poem is behind the cut)
"Will you walk into my parlour?"
Said the spider to the fly;
"'Tis the prettiest little parlour
That ever you did spy.
The way into my parlour
Is up a winding stair;
And I have many curious things
To show you when you're there."
"Oh, no, no," said the little fly;
"To ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair
Can ne'er come down again."
I'm sure you must be weary, dear,
With soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?"
Said the spider to the fly.
"There are pretty curtains all around,
The sheets are fine and thin,
And if you want to rest awhile,
I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"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
To prove the warm affection
I've always felt for you?
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,
"Your'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 parlour 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 he 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 she 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 parlour,-
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.
He had requested his books and the nurse had brought them for him soon after. He sat now reading one of his favorite poetry anthologies. He carefully ripped out a few pages and tucked them into an envelope. He adressed it to Arusigawa Juri and gave it to the mail attendant when he saw her pass in the hall.
In return she handed him a letter. He looked at it and the color drained from his face.
"No more letters..."
But he knew in his heart it was impossible to run away and that a visit from the chairman was pending.
(Poem is behind the cut)
"Will you walk into my parlour?"
Said the spider to the fly;
"'Tis the prettiest little parlour
That ever you did spy.
The way into my parlour
Is up a winding stair;
And I have many curious things
To show you when you're there."
"Oh, no, no," said the little fly;
"To ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair
Can ne'er come down again."
I'm sure you must be weary, dear,
With soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?"
Said the spider to the fly.
"There are pretty curtains all around,
The sheets are fine and thin,
And if you want to rest awhile,
I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"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
To prove the warm affection
I've always felt for you?
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,
"Your'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 parlour 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 he 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 she 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 parlour,-
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.