ke her picture away with him.

"But I must say--" Betsy remarked--"I must say that I don't understand
why anybody should want to borrow this old portrait. Everyone tells me I
have changed a great deal since you made it."

"That's true," Jimmy Rabbit agreed. "But the person to whom I'm going to
show it won't know the difference."

"I don't believe he knows me, then," she remarked.

"No! And probably he never will," said Jimmy Rabbit. "But don't you
worry about that! From what I hear of him, he's a good deal of a bore."

"Don't bother to bring back that picture!" she called to Jimmy Rabbit as
he hopped away.

"I'm afraid Betsy Butterfly is growing vain," he murmured to himself.
"To be sure, she _has_ changed. But I shall always like this portrait of
her, because I painted it myself."

Later, when he was in Farmer Green's garden, he wrapped the picture
carefully in a rhubarb leaf and hid it beneath a pile of brush. And he
didn't come back for it until after dark, just as the moon peeped above
the rim of the hills.

At the duck pond Jimmy Rabbit found Freddie Firefly waiting for him,
hopping up and down and flashing his light through the misty gloom.

"Did you get it?" Freddie demanded.

"It's safe in my pocket," Jimmy assured him.

"Let me have it!" said Freddie. "Dusty Moth is waiting for me at the
fence-corner, near the orchard. And I want to give him a good look at
Betsy Butterfly's picture before the moon gets too high, for he can't
see well if there's too much light."

Jimmy Rabbit drew the picture carefully from his pocket. And Freddie
Firefly took it and slung it across his back. He fairly staggered under
the weight.

"Aren't you going to look at Betsy's picture yourself?" Jimmy Rabbit
asked him. "It's a good bit of work, if I do say so."

"Oh! I don't care about seeing it. It's nothing to me, you know," said
Freddie carelessly. "But I hope Dusty Moth will be satisfied with it."

"Well, I won't go with you, to see if he is," Jimmy Rabbit told him. "I
usually have a light lunch at this hour. So I'll meet you here at the
duck pond after I come back from the cabbage patch."

They parted then. And shortly afterward Freddie Firefly dropped down
beside Dusty Moth, who made no attempt to conceal his pleasure.

"At last!" he cried. "At last I am to behold the beautiful Betsy
Butterfly's picture!... I do hope it's a good likeness!" he added as he
began, with trembling hands, to unwrap the rhubarb covering