ect still hovered over the verbena blossoms, but as the girl drew
near it rose and sailed away. Doctor Raymond gave an amused laugh at her
discomfiture.

"Never you mind," cried Bee. "I'll get it yet. See if I don't;" and away
she sped in hot pursuit.

"It has extraordinary powers of flight; so, if it lands you anywhere
near the postoffice, just see if there is any mail," called her father
teasingly.

Across the garden, through the grove, over the hedge and out into the
road the butterfly flew with Beatrice following after.

"I just believe that it heard father," ejaculated she, as the coveted
insect winged its way in the direction of town. "I don't care, I'll
follow it, anyway."

The naturalist and his daughter in pursuit of insects had become a
common sight to the people of Louisiana, and so the bareheaded, flushed
maiden in breathless pursuit of a beautiful butterfly caused only a few
persons to look after her curiously. Onward went the butterfly. Just as
the town was reached it began to rise in its flight, and Beatrice
realized that it was her last chance, for it would soon be lost over the
housetops. She made an upward leap, and by a fortunate sweep of the net
succeeded in capturing the prize.

"Bravo!" exclaimed a voice, and she looked around in some confusion to
discover a boy gazing at her with admiring eyes. "I think that's pretty
good for a girl."

[Illustration: "I THINK THAT'S PRETTY GOOD FOR A GIRL."]

"Oh! indeed!" cried Bee heatedly. "Could you have done any better
yourself, even though you are a boy?"

"I don't know," replied the lad coolly. "I never wanted a butterfly bad
enough to try it."

"I don't believe that you ever even chased one in your life," said the
girl, staring at him scornfully. "You look a namby-pamby sort."

The boy's face flushed. He was all of thirteen years old, but despite
the fact was garbed in black velvet knickerbockers, a ruffled white
blouse, long black stockings with low, ribbon-tied shoes, and had a
silken sash knotted about his waist. Worst of all, to the girl's mind,
he wore his hair in curls which fell far down upon his shoulders.

"If you were a boy I'd fight you for that," cried the urchin angrily,
clenching his fists.

"Pooh!" sniffed Bee, turning up her nose. "I would not be afraid of such
a baby if I were six times a boy. Where's your mother?"

"She's home, asleep. What's yours thinking about that she lets you go
wild like this? My mother said, when