42 



THE BUTTERFLY HUNTERS. 



CHAPTER VIII 



THE RAIL SWAMP. 



^k NNIE WEBB was sitting one morning at 



^ the door of her father's farm-house. Her 



mother had arranged the easy-chair in the 



front porch so that she could sit and 



v^> 'F^ listen to the bees humming in the cUmbing 

 rose over the door, while her nimble fingers twisted the 

 crotchet needle in and out among the threads of the shawl 

 she was knitting for her mother. As she sat working she 

 heard the. click of the gate-latch, and looking up saw Tom 

 Stewart coming up the path. His clothes were spattered 

 with mud, and his butterfly net, torn to rags, hung over 

 his shoulder. He threw the big bunch of flowers he 

 carried down on the path, and seated himself on the 

 steps of the porch. 



" Hal had gone to school, and the morning was so 

 pleasant, I thought I would try butterfly hunting alone," 

 said he, laughing and holding up his torn net. " You see 

 what I have caught." 



"Never mind the net, Tom," said Annie. "If you will 

 go in and ask mother for a new piece of netting, I will 

 cover it for you while we talk." 



