s the brightest
youngster on the farm--at least after dark, when his light flashed
across the meadow.

So it went. One person was wiser than any of his neighbors; another was
stupider; and somebody else was always hungrier. But there was one who
was the loveliest. Not only was she beautiful to look upon. She was
graceful in flight as well. When one saw her flittering among the
flowers it was hard to say which was the daintier--the blossoms or
Betsy Butterfly.

For that was her name. Whoever gave it to her might have chosen a
prettier one. Betsy herself always said that she would have preferred
Violet. In the first place, it was the name of a flower. And in the
second, her red-and-brown mottled wings had violet tips.

However, a person as charming as Betsy Butterfly did not need worry
about her name. Had she been named after a dozen flowers she could
have been no more attractive.

People often said that everybody was happier and better just for having
Betsy Butterfly in the neighborhood. And some claimed that even the
weather couldn't help being fine when Betsy went abroad.

"Why, the sun just has to smile on her!" they would exclaim.

But they were really wrong about that. The truth of the matter was that
Betsy Butterfly couldn't abide bad weather--not even a cloudy sky. She
said she didn't enjoy flying except in the sunshine. So no one ever saw
her except on pleasant days.

To be sure, a few of the field people turned up their noses at Betsy.
They were the jealous ones. And they generally pretended that they did
not consider Betsy beautiful at all.

"She has too much color," Mehitable Moth remarked one day to Mrs.
Ladybug. "Between you and me, I've an idea that it isn't natural. I
think she paints her wings!"

"I don't doubt it," said Mrs. Ladybug. "I should think she'd be ashamed
of herself." And little Mrs. Ladybug pursed up her lips and looked very
severe. And then she declared that she didn't see how people could say
Betsy was even good-looking, if they had ever noticed her tongue.
"Honestly, her tongue's as long as she is!" Mrs. Ladybug gossiped. "But
she knows enough to carry it curled up like a watch-spring, so it isn't
generally seen.... You just gaze at her closely, some day when she's
sipping nectar from a flower, and you'll see that I know what I'm
talking about."

Now, some of those spiteful remarks may have reached Betsy Butterfly's
ears. But she never paid the slightest attention to them. Whe