an excited whisper, but already the butterfly had commenced distending them and soon they looked three times the size and were all smoothed out.

“Now will he fly?” asked Neva.

“No, the wings are still drooping a little because they are moist; he will move them back and forth after a little, but will not fly until they are perfectly dry.”

“Isn’t he just a beauty! How I wish mamma could see how he looks,” said the little girl in a longing tone.

“How would you like to have auntie paint his picture before he is ready to fly away?” asked her aunt.

Neva’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, will you?” she exclaimed. “I’ll run and get your paints.”

A few minutes later the Danais was taken from the box and placed on the tablespread and Aunt Doris’ brush was doing rapid work.

Neva was fascinated as her eyes traveled from her live butterfly to the beautiful deep orange wings trimmed with black and white which her aunt was painting.

“Why Aunt Doris,” she said, “It’s a zact match, it’s ’most a reg’lar twin. How large it is!”

“Yes, it is four and a half inches across the wings. It is the largest kind of an American butterfly.”

By the time the painting was finished the butterfly commenced flitting about the room. It soon found its way to the screen door and Neva said, “It looks just as if it was coaxing to go out.”

“Yes, butterflies don’t like to be shut up in the house,” said Aunt Doris, “and I think a certain little girl must want to play out too by this time, so I’ll open the door and watch you both fly.”

A few minutes later a happy little voice called from the lawn, “Oh, just look, auntie, Danais Archippus seems to be kissing all the flowers, he’s so glad to see them.”

When Neva went back to the city she took the picture of the Danais which her aunt had framed in a pretty gold frame, and also a great bunch of milkweed pods. She looked at them very proudly as her aunt put them in her trunk and said, “They will be such beautiful reminderments of my precious Danais Archippus, though of course I would remember him forever even if I didn’t have them, wouldn’t I, auntie?” and Aunt Doris looked into the earnest little face and smiled and felt sure that she would.

Grace T. Thompson.

THE INDIGNANT TURKEY.
A TRUE STORY.

Near the pretty town of Madison, N. J., a turkey hen was at one time sitting on her nest of eggs. She knew that she must forego many a pleasant excursion about the poultry yard and through the meadows, where she and her mate had often picked up a sweet wormy meal. As the days grew into weeks Mr. Turkey Gobbler seemed to realize it, too, and decided to put up with widowhood no longer. So he visited a neighboring farm and enticed a good-natured lady turkey to return with him to his home. The patient, lawful wife, hatching her eggs, could do nothing about it. Her place was on the nest, and although doubtless her breast was ruffled with waves of jealousy, she had no means of avenging herself. But the day of retributive justice was surely and swiftly approaching. Hearing a great commotion in the barnyard one morning soon after the new turkey had been introduced to the fowls, the householder hurried out to investigate. There he found a strange turkey cock thrashing with all his might of claw, wing and beak the robber of his nest and affections, after which he proudly walked off with his mate, leaving the defeated and disloyal bird to make peace as best he could with her of whom he was not worthy.

Fanny Skelton Bissell.