e been glad enough to be out of it
before this; I never was so put about in me life as I was up there,'
says he. 'Sure they had all their windies shut up,' says he, 'and the
doors too, an' ne'er a sign of a fly at all in it when I did get in,'
he says; 'an' the whole place that clane, an' sarvants running about,
till I couldn't so much as find a corner to spin my web,' says he.
'Och, dear,' says the Gout, 'that's a poor case entirely; what sort of
a place was it at all, an' what were they doin' in it?'

"'Ah, 'twas a great big place--altogether too big for my taste; an'
they had roarin' fires in the grates. I was near killed wid the hate.'

"'That indeed!' says the Gout, pricking up his ears." Roseen listened
solemnly, not in the least astonished to be told that the personage in
question was possessed of ears; she supposed "a Gout" to be a living
thing, an insect probably, of a more noxious kind than a spider.

"'Fires!' says the Gout; 'an' was they atin' an' drinkin' at all?'
says he.

"'Atin' an' drinkin'!' says the Spider. 'Bedad, they're afther
spendin' hours at it, an' were in the thick of it when I come away. If
ye were to see the j'ints that was in it, ye wouldn't believe your own
eyes; an' chickens an' turkeys,' he says, 'was nothin' at all to them,
and they was swalleyin' down pigeons an' partridges an' them sorts o'
little birds, the same as if they wasn't worth counting.'

"'Oh, oh!' says the Gout, smacking his lips, 'an' did ye chanst to see
any dhrinkin' at all?' 'Goodness gracious!' says the Spider, 'sure
there was rivers of wine goin' down every man's throat!'

"'That'll do,' says the Gout. 'I'll bid ye good evening,' he says,
'an' I'll be off wid meself up there; an' I'll tell ye what,' says he,
'I'll be in no hurry to lave it!' he says, winking acrass at the
other, 'an' you thry the cabin,' he says, lookin' back over his
shoulder; 'maybe it'll suit ye betther nor me.' Well, the poor Spider
ran off as fast as he could, an' when he come to the poor man's
housheen, in he walked, widout a bit o' throuble at all, an' sure
there was plenty of flies there waitin' for him. They used to come
buzzing in an' out through the broken windies all day long.

"'Och, bedad! I am in luck,' says the Spider to himself, 'if on'y the
ould woman 'ull let me stop in it an' not be thryin' to desthroy me
wid her duster, the way the girl up beyant at the Coort did.' But
sure, the poor ould woman had other things to be think