“Spider in the morning stands for mourning,”

One morning, Mother Ambroisine was chopping herbs and cooked apples for a brood of little chickens hatched not long before. A large gray spider, letting itself slide the length of its thread, descended from the ceiling to the good woman’s shoulders. At sight of the creature with long velvety legs, Mother Ambroisine could not suppress a cry of fear, and, shaking her shoulder, made the insect fall, and crushed it under her foot. “Spider in the morning stands for mourning,” said she to herself. At this instant Uncle Paul and Claire entered. “No, sir, it is not right,” said Mother Ambroisine, “that we poor mortals should have so much useless trouble. Twelve little chickens are hatched out for us, bright as gold; and just as I am preparing them something to eat, a villainous spider falls on my shoulder.”