                   The Butterfly
    "But it is not enough merely to exist," said he, "I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion."
    Then he flew against the windowpane, and was seen and admired by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box of curiosities. They could not do more for him.
    "Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers," said the butterfly. "It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is something like being married; for here I am stuck fast." And with this thought he consoled himself a little.
    "That seems very poor consolation," said one of the flowers in the room that grew in a pot.
     "Ah," thought the butterfly, "one can't very well trust these flowers in pots; they have too much to do with mankind."  
