m, went whistling away with the parcel through
the streets.

"Crossing the park, he spied a lovely butterfly which had strayed in
from the country; caught and pinned it on his hat to please little Dinah
when he got home. The pretty creature soon writhed its delicate life
away, but its beauty attracted the eye of a pale girl hurrying along
with a roll of work under her arm.

"'Will you sell me that?' she asked, and Jeff gladly consented,
wondering what she would do with it. So did I, but when we got to her
room I soon saw, for she pinned the impaled butterfly against a bit of
blue paper, and painted it so well that its golden wings seemed to
quiver as they did in life. A very poor place it was, but full of lovely
things, and I grew artistic with just looking about me at the pictures
on the walls, the flowers blooming on plates and panels, birds and
insects kept for copies, and gay bits of stuff used as back-grounds.

"But more beautiful than anything she made was the girl's quiet, busy
life alone in the big city; for, she was hoping to be an artist, and
worked day and night to compass her desire. So poor, but so happy, I
used to wonder why no one helped her and kept her from such hard, yet
patient, waiting. But no one did, and I could watch her toiling away as
I held the butterfly against the wall, feeling as if it was a symbol of
herself, beating her delicate wings in that close place till her heart
was broken, by the cruel fate that held her there when she should have
been out in the free sunshine. But she found a good customer for her
pretty work, in a rich lady who had nothing to do but amuse herself, and
spent much time and money in fancy-work.

"I know all about it; for, one day an order came from the great store
where her designs were often bought, and she was very happy painting
some purple pansies upon velvet, and she copied her yellow butterfly to
float above them.

"The poor insect was very dry, and crumbled at a touch, so my task there
was done, and as my mistress rolled up the packet, she took me to fasten
it securely, singing as she did so, for every penny was precious.

"We all went together to the rich lady, and she embroidered the flowers
on a screen very like that one yonder. I thought she would throw me
away, I was so battered now, but she took a fancy to use me in various
ways about her canvas work, and I lived with her all winter. A kind
lady, my dear, but I often wished I could suggest to her