A caterpillar rested on a lily leaf.

He lay there very still.

He was very big and very green.

“Go away,” cried the lily, “go away!

I do not like caterpillars.”

“I am so tired,” said the caterpillar. “I can not go away.

Let me rest.

I am so sleepy.

Do let me stay.

I will be very still.”

“No! No! Go away,” said the lily.

“You must go away.

You may not stay.

I will not have you.”

The caterpillar fell from the lily leaf.

In his fall he kept hold of a little twig.

There he clung fast.

He was tired, so very tired.

He spun a little coat around him.

Then he fell asleep.

All winter he slept there soundly.

In the spring the bright sun shone warm.

Its rays fell on the caterpillar’s coat.

The caterpillar’s coat opened.

And what do you think came out?

A caterpillar? No! No! No!

A wonderful thing! A beautiful butterfly!

What shining, bright wings!

How it flew among the flowers!

It came flying to the lily.

The lily said, “Come, beautiful butterfly, come to my sweet blossoms!

Rest on me—I love you, butterfly!

You are so bright and beautiful!”

But the butterfly answered, “When I was a caterpillar, you did not want me.

You would not let me rest on you then.

You said you did not like caterpillars.

You would not let me stay.

Now I will not stay with you.

I will go to the red rose.

Good-by, lily; you are fair but cold.”