Spiders are meant to crawl––and they can move really fast too––but they’re not supposed to dance. However, Cindy the Dancing Spider didn’t know that. And when Cindy wasn’t spinning a web she was dancing. Round and round she would go until she felt quite dizzy. And that’s when she’d get into all sorts of trouble. 

 

        Once she had fallen into a bowl of jelly and though it tasted nice and sweet, she had an awful time getting out, it was so slippery. Cindy felt so sticky afterwards that she gave up dancing for a while. But not for long. Soon she was back twirling around again until she landed in a soap dish. Which was even more slippery than the jelly and it didn’t taste as good either. In fact, it tasted just awful. Cindy stopped dancing for a very long time after that.

 

But it wasn’t until she lost her balance while dancing a jig on the ceiling that she decided to give up dancing forever. For that was the time she ended up plopping into a bottle of ink––red ink. Cindy had left a trail behind her for days afterwards, a very red trail. That had put her off dancing for good. 

“I’ll just spin my webs,” vowed Cindy. “And never dance another step.”

 

But although she tried very hard to do that, she wasn’t happy, and her feet itched to dance once again.

 

Her friend, Ernie the Beetle, hated to see Cindy so sad. There had to be something they could do, so Cindy could dance again without slipping and falling. The question was, what?

 

It was at that very moment the idea came to him.

 

“Look, I think there’s a way you can start dancing again,” he told Cindy.

 

“But how?” she wailed. “I can’t risk falling in the jelly, the ink, or the soap dish.”

 

Ernie was very secretive and refused to tell her what he had in mind.

 

“Meet me in the corner above the stairs tomorrow night,” he said before crawling briskly away.

 

Cindy thought the day would never end. She was so excited about what Ernie had in store for her. What could it possibly be, that would let her keep dancing…safely?

 

Ernie arrived right on time. “Here they are,” he said, and handed her a pretty package. Then he added in a worried voice. “Gee, I hope they fit.”

 

Cindy ripped open the parcel, she just couldn’t wait a moment longer to find out what was inside. And there they were, the loveliest little dancing shoes she had ever seen. And she had seen dancing shoes before, very very big ones, in the closet upstairs.

 

She sat down and slipped them on, all eight of them, for Cindy had eight legs. They were lovely little red shoes with laces, and safe skid-proof soles. “They fit just perfectly,” she exclaimed happily. “Thank you, Ernie. Thank you so very much. I’ll never fall again wearing these.” Then they danced a samba, followed by a jig, to try them out. 

 

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