She thought of the butterflies that
flitted about, and of the birds, in coats of red, blue, glossy black,
and dazzling gold.
When Arachne looked at Athena's work she shuddered with shame, for,
although her own work had been skillfully done, it was marred by the
envy, malice and evil thoughts she had woven into it. While Athena's
work was no more skillfully woven, it was by far the more beautiful. The
azure sky, with fluffy white clouds; the meadows, dotted with flowers,
and fields, with their shady green trees, filled with birds of gorgeous
hues, all made a wonderful picture.
Poor Arachne knew her fate. She hastened away and took with her the
threads that she had been using in weaving, and wrapped them about her
neck. She thought she would end her life by hanging to a tree. This made
the beautiful and kind Athena sad, and she said to Arachne: "You must
live--live on forever," and she touched Arachne and changed her form.
Arachne gradually grew smaller and smaller, until she was no larger than
a honeybee. She had many legs and wore a brown, fuzzy coat.
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