“I saw a little boy to-day,” said daddy, “named Robert who has a collection of cocoons. He keeps them on little twigs in a great big box punched full of holes.

“Then he waits to see the butterflies come out. After they have come out he never kills them or tries to keep them, for he thinks that is dreadfully cruel. He knows well that they love to see the sun and be out in the fresh air among the flowers, and he wouldn’t deprive them of that pleasure for anything.

“But one day about a week ago out from a cocoon came the most beautiful pale blue butterfly Robert had ever seen.

“He at once took it out of the box, and off it flew into the warm sun’s rays and lighted upon a small bush which was covered with plum-blossoms and the butterfly acted as if it thought, ‘Well, this may be my first party, but it certainly won’t be my last.’”