Miss Elliots Girls | Page 7

Miss Ruth explained, "refusing
her food and looking forlorn and miserable, and I am inclined to think
instinct taught her that her end was near. You know wild animals creep
away into some solitary place to die, and Dinah had a drop or two of
wild-cat blood in her veins. I fancy she hid herself in some hole under
the barn and died there. It was a curious coincidence, that she should
have chosen that particular time, just after her doom was pronounced,
to take her departure. But what grieved me most was that, excepting
myself, every member of the family rejoiced that she was dead.
"Poor Dinah Diamond! She was beautiful and clever, and constant and
brave, but she lived unloved and died unlamented because of her bad
temper."
CHAPTER IV.
A SWALLOW-TAILED BUTTERFLY.
"If I can't have the seat I want, I won't have any; and I think you are
real mean, Mollie Elliot! I ain't coming here any more."
These were the words Miss Ruth heard spoken in loud angry tones as
she opened the door connecting her bedroom with the parlor, where the
little girls were assembled, and caught a glimpse of an energetic figure
in pink gingham running across the lawn that separated the minister's
house from his next door neighbor.
"Now, Auntie," said Mollie, in answer to Miss Ruth's look of inquiry,

"I am not in the least to blame. I'll leave it to the girls if I am. Fan
Eldridge is so touchy! She came in a minute ago and Nellie Tyler
happened to be sitting by me, and Fan marched up to her and says, 'I'll
take my seat if you please'; and I said, 'It's no more your seat than it is
Nellie's,' We don't have any particular seats, you know we don't, Auntie,
but sit just as it happens. Well, she declared it was her seat because she
had had it the last two afternoons, and I told Nellie not to give up to her
because she acted so hateful about it, and then she went off mad. I'm
sure I don't care; if she chooses to stay away she can."
"You don't quite mean that, Mollie," her aunt said gravely. "The
Patchwork Society can't afford to lose one of its members, certainly not
for so small a difference as the choice of a seat. We must have Fanny
back, if I give up my seat to her. But come into this room, girls. I have
something pretty to show you. Softly! or you will frighten him away."
There was a honeysuckle vine trained close to the window, in full
bloom, and darting in and out among the flowers, taking a sip now and
then from a honey-cup, or resting on a leaf or twig, was a large
butterfly with black-velvet wings and spots and bands of blue and red
and yellow.
"O you beauty!" said Miss Ruth. "Do you know, girls, of all the moths
and butterflies I have raised from the larvæ,--and I have had Painted
Ladies, and Luna Moths, and one lovely Cecropia which was the
admiration of all beholders,--my favorite has always been the
Swallow-tailed? Perhaps it was because he was my first love. I was no
older than you, Nellie, when, half curious and half disgusted, I held at
arm's length on a bit of fennel-stalk, and dropped in an old ribbon-box
Aunt Susan provided for the purpose, the great green worm that, after
various stages of insect life, turned into just such a beautiful creature as
you see flying about among the flowers. Since then I have raised
dozens of them."
"I don't see how you could have any thing to do with worms," said
Eliza Jones. "I hate them--the horrid, squirming things!"
"So did I, Eliza, till I studied into their ways and learned what

wonderful things they can do; and now, I assure you, I have a high
respect and admiration for them."
"Will you tell us about it?" Florence asked. "I've always wanted to
know just how worms turned into butterflies,"
"And I should like nothing better than to tell you," she answered.
"'Making butterflies,' as a dear little boy once defined my favorite
occupation, and telling those who are interested in such things how
they are made, is very delightful to me,"
"Come, then, girls, hurry!" said Nellie: "the sooner we get to work the
sooner the story will begin. Good-by, Mr. Swallow-tail,--I wonder what
they call you so for,--we are going to hear all about you,"
But when they returned to the other room they found Sammy Ray and
Roy Tyler on the piazza, close to the open door. Roy beckoned to his
sister, and they held a whispered conference during which the words,
"You ask her," energetically spoken by Roy,