Miss Elliots Girls | Page 9

well; for, though Roy
took rather large mouthfuls, and Sammy licked his fingers when he
thought no one was looking, these were small delinquencies, and you

will be glad to know that the girls were too well-bred to appear to
notice. Mollie, now fully restored to favor, was allowed to pass the
finger-bowl, while Susie collected the plates, distributed the work, and
made every thing snug and tidy in the room. Then Miss Ruth
commenced the story of
THE SWALLOW-TAILED BUTTERFLY.
"When I was ten years old, my brother Charlie and I spent a summer
with Aunt Susan, who lived in the old homestead some miles out of
town.
"One night after tea she sent us into the garden to gather some sprigs of
fennel for her to take to prayer-meeting--all the old ladies in Vernon
took dill or fennel to evening meeting. I had just put my hand to the
fennel-bush when I drew it back with a scream.
"'What's the matter?' said Charlie.
"'A great, horrid green worm,' said I. 'I almost touched it!'
"'Here, let me smash him!' said Charlie; 'where is he?'
"'Oh, don't touch him!' I cried; 'he might bite you. Oh, dear, I hate
worms! I wonder what they were made for!'
"'That kind was made to turn into butterflies,' said Tim Rhodes.
"Tim was working Aunt Susan's garden on shares that summer, and had
heard all we said, for he was weeding the onion-bed close by.
"'What, that fellow!' said Charlie; 'will he turn into a butterfly?' and we
both of us looked at the caterpillar. He was about as long and as thick
as my little finger, of a bright leafy green, with black-velvet rings
dotted with orange at even distances along his body. He lay at full
length on a fennel-stalk, and seemed to be asleep; but when Charlie
touched him with a little stick, instantly there shot out of his head a pair
of orange-colored horns, and the air was full of the pungent odor of

fennel.
"'It smells like prayer-meeting,' said Charlie, and ran off to play; but I
wanted further information.
"'Mr. Rhodes,' said I, 'how do you know this kind of worm makes
butterflies?'
"'Because I've seen 'em do it, child. If you should put that fellow now in
a box with some holes in the top, so as he could breathe, and give him
plenty of fresh fennel to eat, in a week (or less time if he's full grown)
he'll wind himself up, and after a spell he'll hatch out a butterfly--a
pretty one, too, I tell you,'
"'I mean to try it,' I said; and I ran to the house and Aunt Susan gave me
an old ribbon-box, and Mr. Rhodes punched a few holes in the cover
with his pocket-knife; and after a little hesitation I picked the
fennel-stalk with the worm on it, and laid it carefully in the box,
making sure that the cover was tight. The box was then taken to the
house and deposited on a bench in the porch, for Aunt Susan objected
to entertaining this new boarder indoors.
"I gave my worm his breakfast the next morning before I had my own,
and, forgetting my aversion, sat by the open box and watched him eat,
as his strong jaws made clean work with leaf and stem.
"'He isn't so ugly, after all, Charlie,' I said; 'he is almost handsome for a
worm, with all those bright colors on him,'
"Then Charlie caught a little of my enthusiasm, and said he meant to
keep a worm too. So he searched the fennel-bush and found three, and
tumbled them unceremoniously into the box.
"'Now they'll have good times together,' said he; 'that fellow was awful
lonesome shut up by himself,'
"At Aunt Susan's suggestion I improved my worm-house by removing
the top of the box and stretching mosquito-netting across, fastening it

securely along the edges lest my prisoners should escape. And it was
well I took this precaution; for, though for several days they made no
attempt to get away, and seemed to do nothing but eat and sleep, one
morning I found my largest and handsomest worm in a very disturbed
and restless condition. He was making frantic efforts to escape. Up and
down, round and round, over and under his companions, who were still
quietly feeding, without a moment's pause, he was pushing his way. I
watched him till I was tired; but when I left him he was still on his
travels.
"In the afternoon, however, he had settled himself half-way up the side
of his house. His head was moving slowly from side to side, and a fine
white thread was coming out of his mouth. When I looked again he had
fastened himself to the box by