I wish Betsy Butterfly would move away from Pleasant
Valley!" Freddie Firefly exclaimed at last, quite out of patience with
everybody and everything. "I'm in a pretty fix, I am! And since I don't
know how to get rid of this annoying Dusty Moth, I'm going to ask
Solomon Owl what I'd better do." That, at least, was a comforting
thought.

So the following morning, just before dawn, he made what might be termed
a flying call on Solomon Owl who lived in the hemlock woods beyond the
swamp.

And luckily wise old Solomon thought of a good plan at once. As soon as
he had heard Freddie Firefly's story he said to him:

"If Betsy Butterfly refuses to meet your friend, why don't you ask her
for her picture?"

"That's a splendid idea!" Freddie cried. "How in the world did you ever
happen to think of it, Mr. Owl?"

Solomon Owl hooted at that question.

"That's my secret," he said. "If I told all I know, everybody else would
be just as wise as I am." And after giving another long string of hoots,
which he followed with a burst of loud laughter, Solomon Owl popped into
his house.

Anyhow, Freddie Firefly couldn't complain, for he now had a remedy for
his trouble. And he felt so carefree and happy again that on his way
across the meadow he stopped to talk with Jimmy Rabbit, who was taking a
stroll in the direction of Farmer Green's cabbage patch.

Freddie Firefly quickly told Jimmy all about his affair with Dusty Moth.
He even explained how he had gone to ask Solomon Owl's help, and related
what that wise bird had advised.

"There's only one thing that worries me now," said Freddie Firefly
anxiously. "I'm wondering whether Betsy Butterfly has ever had a picture
made of herself."

XIX

A BIT OF LUCK

JIMMY RABBIT promptly set Freddie Firefly's fears at rest.

"I happen to know," said he, "that Betsy Butterfly has a picture of
herself."

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked him eagerly.

"I ought to be," replied Jimmy Rabbit, "because I painted it myself, the
very next day after I finished a portrait of old Mr. Crow."

"It ought to be a good one, if you made it," said Freddie. "But wasn't
it some time ago that you were an artist?"

"It was earlier in the summer," Jimmy Rabbit admitted. "Of course,
Betsy Butterfly has changed somewhat since then. But this picture was a
fine likeness of her at the time I painted it.... I suppose," he added,
"I was the first one in the whole valley to perceive that she was going
to b