abble."

"Just what do you mean?" asked Maya, mystified.

"I used to be a caterpillar," explained Fred.

"Never!" cried Maya.

"Now, now, now," said Fred, pointing both feelers straight at
Maya. "Everyone knows a butterfly is first a caterpillar. Even
human beings know it."

Maya was utterly perplexed. Could such a thing be?

"You must really explain more clearly," she said. "I couldn't
accept what you say just so, could I? You wouldn't expect
me to."

The butterfly perched beside the little bee on the slender
swaying branch of the raspberry bush, and they rocked together
in the morning wind. He told her how he had begun life as a
caterpillar and then, one day, when he had shed his last
caterpillar skin, he came out a pupa or chrysalis.

"At the end of a few weeks," he continued, "I woke up out of my
dark sleep and broke through the wrappings or pupa-case. I can't
tell you, Maya, what a feeling comes over you when, after a time
like that, you suddenly see the sun again. I felt as though I
were melting in a warm golden ocean, and I loved my life so that
my heart began to pound."

"I understand," said Maya, "I understand. I felt the same way
the first time I left our humdrum city and flew out into the
bright scented world of blossoms." The little bee was silent a
while, thinking of her first flight.-- But then she wanted to
know how the butterfly's large wings could grow in the small
space of the pupa-case.

Fred explained.

"The wings are delicately folded together like the petals of a
flower in the bud. When the weather is bright and warm, the
flower must open, it cannot help itself, and its petals unfold.
So with my wings, they were folded up, then unfolded. No one can
resist the sun when it shines."

"No, no--one cannot--one cannot resist the sunshine." Maya
mused, watching the butterfly as he perched in the golden light
of the morning, pure white against the blue sky.

"People often charge us with being frivolous," said Fred. "We're
really happy--just that--just happy. You wouldn't believe how
seriously I sometimes think about life."

"Tell me what all you think."

"Oh," said Fred, "I think about the future. It's very
interesting to think about the future.-- But I should like to
fly now. The meadows on the hillside are full of yarrow and
canterbury bells; everything's in bloom. I'd like to be there,
you know."

This Maya understood, she understood it well, and they said
good-by and flew away