One day, when the Spider was stirring it up, she fell
in and scalded herself. Thereupon the Flea began to scream. And then
the door asked: "Why are you screaming, Flea?"
"Because little Spider has scalded herself in the beer-tub," replied
she.
Thereupon the door began to creak as if it were in pain; and a broom,
which stood in the corner, asked, "What are you creaking for, door?"
"May I not creak?" it replied:
"The little Spider's scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps."
So the broom began to sweep industriously, and presently a little cart
came by, and asked the reason. "May I not sweep?" replied the broom:
"The little Spider's scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,"--
Thereupon the little cart said: "So will I run," and began to run very
fast, past a heap of ashes, which cried out: "Why do you run, little
cart?"
"Because," replied the cart:
"The little Spider's scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps."
"Then," said the ashes, "I will burn furiously." Now, next the ashes
there grew a tree, which asked: "Little heap, why do you burn?"
"Because," was the reply:
"The little Spider's scalt herself,
And the Flea weeps;
The little door creaks with the pain,
And the broom sweeps;
The little cart runs on so fast,"--
Thereupon the tree cried, "I will shake myself!" and went on shaking
till all its leaves fell off.
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