. Sometimes it would be one child which was
transformed, sometimes two, and occasionally three; but the mandarin
always greeted the butterfly's report with intense delight and gave
him molasses for supper.

One evening, however, the butterfly thought it might be well to vary
the report, so that the mandarin might not grow suspicious; and when
its master asked what child had been had been changed into a pig
that day the lying creature answered:

"It was a Chinese boy, and when I touched him he became a black
pig."

This angered the mandarin, who was in an especially cross mood. He
spitefully snapped the butterfly with his finger, and nearly broke
its beautiful wing; for he forgot that Chinese boys had once mocked
him and only remembered his hatred for American boys.

The butterfly became very indignant at this abuse from the mandarin.
It refused to eat its molasses and sulked all the evening, for it
had grown to hate the mandarin almost as much as the mandarin hated
children.

When morning came it was still trembling with indignation; but the
mandarin cried out:

"Make haste, miserable slave; for to-day you must change four
children into pigs, to make up for yesterday."

The butterfly did not reply. His little black eyes were sparkling
wickedly, and no sooner had he dipped his feet into the magic
compound than he flew full in the mandarin's face, and touched him
upon his ugly, flat forehead.

Soon after a gentleman came into the room for his laundry. The
mandarin was not there, but running around the place was a
repulsive, scrawny pig, which squealed most miserably.

The butterfly flew away to a brook and washed from its feet all
traces of the magic compound. When night came it slept in a rose
bush.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of American Fairy Tales, by L. Frank Baum

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