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Miss Hollyhock Woes the
! Peacock Butterfly in
X A AW JVS V VI J VAX N NX A A
'She Tells All Her Family Troubles to This Unusual
Butterfly and Chats With Her
Friend, the Toad,
By MARGARET M'SHANE.
THE Peacock Butterfly had flown
about the garden mqst of the
morning.
He played with the Oriental Pop
pies for a while, but it was plainly
seen by his actions, that the Orientat
poppies (Poppy-bed) were not what
fee was in search of. He flew next
$ the Pansy bed and hovered over
e golden laughing face of the
Jbwer, but this alike seemed not his
goal
He grew restless, a little irritable,
and he twirled hither and thither on
the breezes seeking a location.
After much batting of wings, he
finally settled down on the Morning
Glory Vine, much disgusted and sore
at heart.
' Clearly he was not the ideal of the
contented happy-go-lucky Butterfly.
He was bothered.
This was his first visit to the gar
den this Summer. He was a little
late in coming North, for belonging
to the traveling Butterfly family,
he spent the. Winter months in the
Southland.
N'ere would he be like the Com
mon Butterflies, that turn into eggs,
or that live in torpidity in their
shells for the Winter months. No,
indeed, far be it from the beautiful
Peacock Butterfly to waste precious
moments in a shell or torpidity,
when he might be whiling away the
shining hours loving and being loved,
in the home of the South Breete,
and 'when he could pluck the Dais
ies as he goes, his life was made for
dreaming.'
The Peacock Butterfly visifed the
gardennly on rare occasions, when
a special interest brought him there.
His favorite jaunts were the woods
and the blooming meadow fields and
this morning's call was the first he
had made to the garden this sea
son. ' . r 1
And the flowers eyes were all as
big as saucers, so astonished were
they at the beauties of this gorgeous
. stranger.
They recognized him by his four
big eyes, one on each wing some
of them ftad seen him years back.
He was nothing new for instance, to
the Crimson Rambler, who had
watched his merrymaking years be
fore. No new phase could he show
to he shining Golden Glow, for she
had held her spot in the garden for
several years past, and the golden
faced Sun-Flower also had seen him
before.
Those Reddish Eyes.
Oh, but-the reddish eye in the
middle of the upper wings, how they
did fascinate the laughing face
Pansy, and the Oriental Poppy could
not hide her awe, of the black eyes
on the lower wings With their blu
ish spots and grey pircles around
them; and these eyes and the two
colored wings, russety brown on
top and jet black under neath, were
new to the Morning Glory, and they
bewitched her so, that she just beg
ged him to stay always near to her
and live forever in the garden. .J
But what was this beautiful
something he was in search' of" I
were .the words on all their
tongues.
And as their, wondering! grew, he
was seen to take a bee line and fly
to the south side garden wall. -
"Oh the-Hollyhock , of coursel"
the flowers all exclaimed together.
"How happy novthe seems that he
has found his" goalT"
And the flowers all watched with
envious eyes the bed of the Happy
Hollyhock, who at this moment was
peering over the garden wall watch
ing the neighbors' boys playing ball.
The. Butterfly bew back and forth
Up and down he went floating on
every light "wind; and sailing reck
lessly with wide spread wings he
encircled the Hollyhock high and
low.
"Still loving ft be noticed? How
you do delight in showing off,
Golden Butterfly," quietly remarked
the Hollyhock, as she shrugged her
shoulders, much disgusted with his
antics.
"Please settle down or fly away
you make me nervous flapping back
and forth before my eyes," cried
the Hollyhock. And she folded in
her petals and turned her beautiful
face from the Butterfly.
But nevertheless, talk as she might
the Hollyhock did love to gaze on
the beauties of the Butterfly, and she
pecked from behind her shelter of
heavy leaves. 4
A Urge dark spot on the out
stretched wing confased her. She
startled iosheer astonishment. This
was indeed something new. Could
it be the wonderful Peacock Butter
fly. Who prefers the woods and the
blossoming fields and who comes
to the garden only occasionally?
She remembered hearing the Toad
talking this morning about the
lovely new butterfly in the garden,
who was sailing about most dis
tractedly with an adventurous air,
and how the flowers all were trying
to (gain his attention) attract him.
"Indeed, it must be the very
same," the Hollyhock said to the
Toad at her feet, "for never have I
seen a butterfly with such eyes, but
the Peacock Butterfly and there
are four of them, two on each wing.
"Good gracious what a simpleton
I was not to be able to tell the
difference between him and the but
terflies that visit us daily. How
very ignorant he will think I am not
to have recognized him immed-
ately. And to think I turned my
back on htm. .
By now I am sure, fat froggy,
that some flower, wiser than I, has
received him with open arms and
even shook her pollen on the air
when ".lie turned her way, and at
this very minute they must be chat
ting and having such a lovely time
together. What will I do about it?
Alas, alack a day what fools we
mortals are, Here, were happiness
and delightful moments for me, I
had but to reach out and take them."
And the Hollyhock retold her
troubles to the Toad, who sat at her
feet with his head tilted back and
his eyes rivetted on her face, listen
ing on every word and to the honey
bee who was at the moment perched
on her top-most petal. For it was
sympathy she really needed.
Regrets.
She mused on her actions, and
turned them over again and again
in her mind. '
How he had come to her, without
trying to attract him; how mean
she had been, and how rude, and
how different she should have been
even though the visitor were but
the common golden butterfly -who
calls on her daily; and how she did
love admiration; and could she ever,
ever, explain her, actions, that she
might see him again.
And from where she stood, she
could see the Butterfly plainly, as
she mused, sitting happily, grace
fully folding ' and unfolding his
wings as he talked to the Morning
Glory on her lovely cool vine.
She thought she .might send the
Toad over with , her excuses and
apolgies but, no, the Toad was so
awkward in his hopping over the
garden that he might likewise, be
awkward of speech, and that would
never do. But the Honey Bee if she
were not in a stinging mood would
do very well, but if she had her
stingers out, she would be bitted,
and in that case she would be just
as badas the Frog, or even worse,
for sarcasm offends as nothing else
can.
So the Hollyhock pondered away
on the best means to right a very
bad bargain, and she decided to
promise The Bee some of her rarest
honey if he would square her with
the beloved Butterfly. And to her
self she thought; I will just fill hr
chuck full with such very sweet
honey, that she will feel sweet all
over, and then she just cannot help
but say sweet things.
So the Honey Bee flew off lad
dened as the Hollyhock had planned
with the choicest honey ever a Bee
got from a stately Hollyhock. Away
he flew to the Morning Glory, who
was chatting with the favored But
terfly. And perched beside the Butterfly
on a near by blossom of the "Morning
Glory, he explained all, and gave
the Hollyhocks apologies with such
diplomacy and sweetness, that the
Butterfly promised to see the Holly
hock on his way back; in fact he
even told the Bee that it was to
ee the Hollyhock that he came to
the Garden this very morning.
This was joy indeed and news
delicious, to bring back to his kind
friend.
Friends.
And the Butterfly kept his word.
He stopped with the Hollyhock on
his way back to the woods.
They chatted and they played to
gether for hours, for he wanted to
know all her joys and sorrows, "for
beauty brings sorrows as well as
joys," he said, "and having more
than her share of beauty she too
must have her sorrows."
And she told him about her fam
ily. How happy they always had been
together, and that they were called
the "Happy Flower;" and that they
were healthy and hardy plants; very
easy to grow; and that after once
planted, they came up year after
year.'
They were the most popular and
most generally known of all the old
fashioned flowers, and always grew
very tall; five and six feet were the
ordinary heights they reached, and
one of their family had been known
to grow 13 feet by actual count.
This one is deep red in color, and
when the Wind visits the garden
he is superb, as he swings back
and forth on the wind waves.
A black red comrade leaned
against her as she told ,her family
news to the Butterfly, and' the deep
red blossome of Comrade's stalk
mingled with her own rose pink,
and cherry, and standing near by
them were her pure white sisters
spikes of bloom. Indeed they were
a lovely sight.
"Yes, and wye have our sorrow!
too, as well as joys," "continued the
Hollyhock.
"The Slug worm, a loathsome,
nasty mess of shapeless slime, killed
my little sister just this Summer.
"They come to the garden at
night when we are all asleep, for
they eat in the darkness, and are
invisible by day, for the good warm
Sun is- death to them.
"In the first few weeks of Sum
mer this year, these Slugs came to
the garden in hordes, and one morn
ing when I awoke, I found my fa
vorite sister wholly stripped of all
her green. She was pale as death,
and when we went to her side to
see the cause of such distress, we
discovered the hateful Slug gnaw
ing away at her roots. Roots are
the flower's heart, you know, so
we were helpless. He had done
his work of viciousness.
Death.
"And a short time later, another
one of our family died of 'Rust.'
"This is a deadly thing, and un
ruly, when once it gets established.
The yellow spots, the well known
symptom of 'Rust,' had crept up to
the top leaves of her stalk, and the
lower ones had fallen off, leaving
her completely bare. The result of
rust like this is immediate death.
We hope it was a painless one.
"And can you tell me, piease clear
Butterfly, why the barbarous boy
walking across the garden take such
delight in striking us with big rough
sticks? They seem to want to
make us suffer. And pray why
should they, when we give them so
generously of our bloom ,and
health? -
"See over there, a few feet away
from us, lies one of the younger
members of our family flat on the
ground. A boy with a brutal stick
passed this way this morning."
The Toad at the feet of the Holly
hock bothered the Butterfly, more
than anything else on the south
wall side of the garden, and he
sneered at the Toad's dirt, and at his
stupid face.
"You must not feel so, to' the
Tdad dear Butterfly, for he is not
dirty, nor is he stupid. He is my
very best friend; he is the death of
our greatest enemy the Slug, I was
telling you about that, mean low-,
down, snail without a shell.
"The Toad eats every one he can
find. They are his choicest fooa,
and he grows fat and happy on
them .while we rejoice.
"All the people of earth, who
wish to grow beautiful species of
my family should import a bucket
full of toads for their gardens, and
they will keep the garden free from
many other vicious insect pests, as
well as slugs.
The Valuable Toad.
"Well, well-is that so," brightly
spoke the Butterfly, y "I am really
surprised, for I did trot think Toad's
were ever much worth while truly
nature is a wonderful thing. Each
insect, you and I, dear Hollyhock,
every tiniest thing of earth, have
their place to fill, their work to do.
But I am tarrying too long with
you. We will finish our visit an
other day, for the shadows, I see
are lengthening, and it is time for
me, a child of bright sunshine, to
be on my way. s
'Goodby, beautiful Hollyhock. .
And the Hollyhock watched the
Peacock Butterfly until he was far
away. In the distance she could
see the glimmering tints of his
four gorgeous eyes, as he grace
fully fluttered his wings against the
breeze.
The Fold-Up Family
,
IT
Stories by Our Little Folks
Tragic.
In a village in Ireland the mother
of a soldier met the village priest,
who1 asked her if she had had bad
news.
"Shure, I-have," sheHud. "Pat has
been killed."
"Oh, I am very sorry," said the
priest. . "Did you receive word from
the war office?"
"No," she said, "I received word
from Pat himself."
The priest looked pefplexed, and
said: "But how is that?"
"Shure," she said, "here is ,the
letter, read it for yourself."
The letter said:' "Dear Mother
I am now in the Holy Land."
American Boy.
And W.icn site' folrtc! up.
HERE is Bossy Fold-Up, the
Fold-Up Family cow. Paint
her a nice dull red (or pale tan
if you think she's a Jersey). Then
paste the pieces on heavy paper and
cut them out. You know you are
to get some older member 6f your
family to bring you some little brass
"McGill Fasteners'' with which to fit
the pieces together where the round
holes are found. Punch the holes
open, and put the fasteners through
the little pieces bent over at the
back. If you just can't get fasteners
use pins and push them through the
holes, bending them over at the
back.
Jokes
A Feat for Feet.
Jimmy had just annihilated the
whole German army and he was
putting his leaden, warriors back in
to their respective boxes, when his
roving eye glanced upward and
spotted a large, black, fierce-looking
invader.
"Father," he cried, excitedly,
"there's a great big spider on the
ceiling." '
Jimmy's father, who is a profes
sor, was busy at the moment, and
answered, without raising his eyes:
"Step on it, Jimmy, my boy, and do
not interrupt me." American Boy.
A Misfit.
The "mess" had not been what
the men had been used to at home.
One day on a hike a "candidate"
was seen eating green persimmons
by the C. O., who said in his most
sarcastic voice, "Smith, we have
mess a noon today as usual." Pri
vate Smith saluted stiffly. t
"Yes, sir, 1 1 was just 'trying to
draw my stomach up to fit it." Lt.
J. L. Hill, U. S. A., in Life.
Inconsistent.
, Sol Sodbuster Wimern is certn'y
inconsistent.
Abe Orpington Whatsa matter?
"My darter Sally was right in the
fight fer liberty an' freedom from be
ginnin' t' end "
"Yes, yes"
"And then, the first thing she does
when peace is declared is to fasten
herself up tightern' beeswax in a
hobble skirt. Youngstown1 Tele
gram. i
Heard It, Anyway.
Flatbush I wish you'd get rid of
that dog.
Bensonhurst Why?
"Because he kept me awake growl
ing when you got home last night
late."
"That wasn't my dog growling.
That was my wife." Yonkers
Statesman.
Safety in Silence.
"An intelligent looking dog you
have there."
"Indeed he is," said the proud
owner.
"Now, if that dog could only talk,
the things he might say!"
"Perish the thought. That dog
has followed me into all kinds of
places." Birmingham Age-Herald.
The Miracle.
"She's a wonder, that quiet little
woman over there."
"Why, what's she done?"
"I told you; she's qUiet." Balti
more American.
Our Picture Puzzle
5 fas .
y 6. 8 9 4-5
. a
MJ' y-i v
) 7 f 19. zo A
Willie says he'll draw a
If some one will bring a carrot.
Complete the picture by drawing a line through the dots beginning
at Figure 1 and taking them numerically.
A Trip.
By Ruth 8. Method, Age 11, New Raymer.
cuio.
Dear Busy Beesi This is my first
letter to you. i am going to tell
you about our trip. ' We lived in De
catur, Neb., but we moveM to New
Raymer Colo, 'We drove through
in our ForiJ. We left Tekamah,
Neb., on Saturday at 3 o'clock in
the afternoon. We went through
Arlington and Fremont the first at t-er-noon.
We stayed at North Bend
that night. We left North Bend
about 9 o'clock the next morning.
We ate dinner in Silver Creek, Neb.
There was , some snow on the
ground there. We got to Kearney
that night. Just before we got there
we saw a man along the road who
had- run out of gasoline. We stop
ped and drained some out of our car.
We went on to Kearney together.
He showed us where there was a
hotel and we stayed there that
night. We left there quite early the
next morning. We had some trou
ble with the car, but we had it fixed
in Gothenburg, where we had din
ner. We stayed in North Platte
that night. From there on and be
fore we got there the roads were
muddy. They were muddy all the
rest of the way here. We got to
Julesburg, Colo., about dark. We
left there about 7 o'clock the next
morning. We got to Sterling at 11
o'clock. We did not leave there
until 2:30 o'clock. We got here in
New Raymer about 8 o'clock that
evening. We were four days on the
road. ,
(Honorable Mention)
A Pleasant Surprise.
Helen Edmund, Age 14, Atel, Neb.
Violet woke up early in the morn
ing as it was her birthday. "Well,"
she said, "I Wonder what I'll get to
day." She went, downstairs and lo,
on the table was a big fat letter for
Violet. She quickly opened it and
to her surprise it contained four
War Savings stamps, and a $50 Lib
erty bond. "Goodness, where did
all this come from." "From us,"
come some voices behind her. "Oh,"
said Voilet, "how did you come
here," It was her four cousins and
five friends frorn the country. "I
guess," said Violet, "I helped some
boys 'OverThere.'" And she told
her mother that night it was the
best birthday she had in her life, and
hoped to have several more like it.
A School Scare.
Theodore Perry, Age 12, Stratton. Neb.
The children were all playing on
the school playground, when little
Jack gave a cry of dismay and ran
toward the schoolhouse. "Snake,
snake 1" he cried.
One large boy ran after him and
asked him if he was hurt. "It hit
my foot," he "exclaimed. Before
looking at Jack's foot, the boy went
back to some other boys who were
-killing the snake. .
He came back laughing and said
it was harmless and only about six
inches long.
Little Jack soon got over his
fright and joined the others in their
play.
First Letter.
By Suale Annabel Lllley, Omaha, Aire t.
Dear Busy Bees: I read your let
ters in The Bee and enjoy them
very much. This is my first letter.
1 am 9 years old and in the Third
grade. We have school every day
now. We missed a whole lot on ac
count of the flu. Our teacher's
name is Miss Ywiebel. -1 have not
had the flu yet. I have one brother
and his name is Jamie. He is 3
years old. I must close now.
First Letter.
By Mabel Anna Han. Age 11 Teara,
Scrlbner, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: This is my first
letter. I will not write a story this
time. I will write a poem:
Abraham Lincoln in Kentucky,
He was always very lucky;
He was very high
But he nevertold a lie.
I hope this poem will escape the
waste basket.
Srane's Experience.
Alice Biees. Ace 11, Plalnvlew, Neb.
Erane and her mother were
French people. Erane and her
mother believed Erane's father had
been lost in a storm that began al
ter he set sail from a small town
on the Seine river, as he had never
come back to them. Erne and her
mother were very poor since then
and they had to take in washing
and do many little jobs, they could
pick up.
One day, as they were down to
the shore washing clothes one piece
floated away and Erne ran after it.
It floated down rapids and under
bridges, once it went under a bridge
and staid so long she tho"ght it
might come out on the other side.
As she was over the bridge she
met a man with bronzed fact;, and
kindly he called her "tots," the
name her father called her when a
baby. He had the bright red gar
ment looking like the one she was
looking for. What had convinced
him was his girl. It was the dress
he. had made for her when a baby.
Erne then knew her father and so
she took him to her mother. Her
father, had made good money.
Erane's mother never after that
took in washings. Her father took
them to live in a grand house in
Paris.
A Picnic.
Luolle Jenkins, Age 19, Wllsonvllle. Neb.
On the last day of school, May
23, our class, the sixth grade, went
on a picnic down on the creek about
a mile from town. One of my
classmates and I went down to take
the lunch about 10:30.
It was very hard to carry the
freezer of cream and some ice.
We had everything to eat for
dinner and ice cream and cake. In
the afternoon, while we were play
ing, we heard a noise. All looking
up we saw an aeroplane which a
doctor who lives in Beaver City has.
He was on a trip west to another
town. We gave some yells then,
went to town and played on a girls
lawn and had lemonade. I have
written once before, but I wrote
again.
Some "Camp Fire Girls" please
write to me.
How Betty Became a Singer.
Opal Jenkins, Age t. Wllaunvllle, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: Once upon a
.time there was a little girl named
Betty Johnson. She was a good
singer, but she could not take les
sons because her mother was poor
and just earned enough to keep her
self and Betty. Her mother felt
very bad because she couldn't, so
she tried to feave her money so she
could take lessons.
One day while Betty was out'
plpying she thought she "would
count her money. She found she
had 17 dollars. Now she felt that
Betty could take lessons. Than she
called her in and told her. Betty
was very happy now, and she be
came the greatest singer in Fair
Port.
A New Bee.
By Edna Allen, Ase 10, Blue Hill, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: J read your
page every Sunday and I like
Bringing Up Father best of all. I
think, that if Jiggs would behave
himself he would be better off. I
wish to join your .Bee hive. ,
A New Bee.
Dick Dennis, Age 7. Columbus, Neb.,
R. F. D.
Dear Busy Bees: This is my first
letter to your page. I like to read
letters in the Busy Bee page. I am
7 years old and I am in the second
grade. I have a dog. His name, is
Colly. He comes to meet me when
I come home from school. I will
close for my letter is getting long.
Our Dogs.
By Adrian Hodson, Age . Gothenburg,
Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: We had - six
dogs, but we sold one for $5.. One
is bad, but the rest are good; the
one that is bad is a fox terrier. We
are going to sell one and give away
one and kill the bad dog. We are
going to buy a dog. I hope Mr.
Waste Basket is in bed.
My Pet.
Helen Lurpln, Age t. Cams, Net..
My pet dog is yellow. He is a
cow dog and ne likes little children.
When we got him he went back to
his home twice. He goes with a
team and he will help us catch tne
chickens. When we Jirst got him
he and the other dogs had a fight.
His name is shepy. He is about 4
years old. When we go away he
wants to go w'ith us. My friend's dog
and Shepy had a fight.
My letter is getting ,long for I
must close.
Now I will write a poem:
April showers bring spring flowers,
How happy I will be.
Then I can gather some for
Billy and me.
Googby Busy Bees.
The Lost Child.
Alary Peddon, Age 10, Blue Htlt, Neb.
There was once a little girl whose
name was Bessie. One day Bessie
went out into the woods to pick
berries. The sun was shining bright
and she was happy. Bessie did not
think how far she was going, or
how late it was getting, so she went
far out into the woods.
Try? moon was shining and the
stars came out. Bessie grew tired,
so she lay down on the grass and
went to sleep.
Her mother and father went out
doors looking for the lost child.
Soon morning came and Bessie
woke up. She did not know which
way to go. She turned around and
went toward home. After she had
walked about a mile, she met her
mother and father. They were all
happy and Bessie promised never to
go into the woods alone again.
Th Dance
By Helen Hay .hi'.iey
Lika little, eager children
The tiptoe tulips stand.
Row upon row of dancing headj
In joyous saraband.
With lithe, lone emerald petticoats,
And happy hands tossed up,
The sunshine is the laughter
That brims their golden- cup.
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