Spider and the Fly

Growing up my mom had a told us to be wary of flattery. She often told us that men would use flattery to get us to give them something we wouldn't normally divulge. And my mom loves to give stories, or anecdotes to better illustrate what she was trying to say, so it came as no surprise when my mother started to read the poem "The Spider and the Fly," by Mary Howitts. At the tender age of 10, I liked the prose better then the story. But the older I got and the more I dated, the more relevance the story began to have to my life.

There were a few men, that I wouldn't have given a second glance, much less a chance, but they knew how to flatter a person. Of course I would be swayed by their flattery to a certain extent, but my mom didn't raise a fool and being able to talk to her about anything has kept me from a lot of mess. And whenever I would start dating a guy, that she knew I really didn't have an interest in, she would calmly say, "Don't be the little Fly." When she would say this, I would automatically began to examine my reasoning for giving this particular male a chance. And when I would arrive to the conclusion, that it was only due to their flattery of me that allowed them a chance, I would of course back away. I am not weary of flattery, I just know there is a difference between genuine flattery and false praise. More often than not, false praise falls easily and freely from one's lips and is usually a means to an end.

Now I know there are some women who fall prey to the flattery of men. Let the man get too close and then wind up getting hurt. Since it seems that not many young ladies know this tale. I have found it and posted it. I hope you all enjoy it.

The Spider and the Fly
Mary Howitt

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've a many curious things to shew when you are 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 drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like 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, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've 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.

The Spider and the Fly
Mary Howitt