Bl'TTERfLIES OF MONTANA. 83 



A Chrysalis. 



My little Maedchen found one day 



A curious something in her play. 



That was not fniit, nor flower, nor seed; 



It was not anything that grew, 



Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew; 



Had neither legs nor wings, indeed; 



And yet she was not sure, she said, 



Whether it was alive or dead. 



She brought it in her tiny hand 

 To see if I would understand, 

 And wondered when I made reply, 

 "You've found a baby butterfly." 

 "A butterfly is not like this," 

 With doubtful look she answered me. 

 So then I told her what would be 

 Some day within the chrysalis: 



How, slowly, in the dull brown thing 

 Now still as death, a spotted wing. 

 And then another, would unfold, 

 Till from the empty shell would fly 

 A pretty creature, by and by. 

 All radiant in blue and gold. 



"And will it, truly?" questioned she — 

 Her laughing lips and eager eyes 

 All in a sparkle of surprise — 

 "And shall your little Maedchen see?" 

 "She shall!" I said. How could I tell 

 That ere the worm within its shell 

 Its gauzy, splendid wings had spread. 

 My little Maedchen would be dead? 



Today the butterfly has flown— 

 She was not here to see it fly, — 

 And sorrowing I wonder why 

 The empty shell is mine alone. 

 Pernaps the secret lies in this: 

 I too had found a cnrysalis. 

 And death that robbed me of delight 

 Was Imt the radiant creature's flight! 



-MARY EMILY BRADLEY. 



