"Yes," buzzed the wasp, "it's nice today, but there's sure to be a storm—"
But the adder had rolled over so that one ear lay close to the ground, and he had stuck the end of his tail into the other ear.
"Well, I declare," buzzed the wasp angrily. "What an impertinent fellow." And she flew away as fast as ever she could.
The adder straightened himself out and went about his work once more, thinking as he did so how bright the sunlight was, and how soft and warm the air felt, and how beautifully the birds were singing.
Presently a little brown spider dropped a thread from her web and ran down to the adder's doorway.
"Good morning," she said. "I have come to invite you to a forest revel. Why are you always so quiet? You should come with us and not mind what the sober workers tell you. We will have music and dancing and wine and song—"
But the adder had rolled over so that one ear lay close to the ground and he had stuck the end of his tail into the other ear.
"Such manners!" exclaimed the spider, and she climbed the thread back to her web.
