THE BUTTERFLY [1]
for each other just the same; as to marrying- no;
don't let us appear ridiculous at our age."
And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had
been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the
butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.
It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold
wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked
again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes;
but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a
shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm
as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.
"But it is not enough merely to exist," said he, "I need
freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion."
Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired
by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box
of curiosities. They could not do more for him.
"Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers," said the
butterfly. "It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is
something like being married; for here I am stuck fast." And with this
thought he consoled himself a little.
"That seems very poor consolation," said one of the plants in
the room, that grew in a pot.
"Ah," thought the butterfly, "one can't very well trust these
plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind."
THE END
.
don't let us appear ridiculous at our age."
And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had
been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the
butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.
It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold
wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked
again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes;
but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a
shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm
as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.
"But it is not enough merely to exist," said he, "I need
freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion."
Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired
by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box
of curiosities. They could not do more for him.
"Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers," said the
butterfly. "It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is
something like being married; for here I am stuck fast." And with this
thought he consoled himself a little.
"That seems very poor consolation," said one of the plants in
the room, that grew in a pot.
"Ah," thought the butterfly, "one can't very well trust these
plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind."
THE END
.