SOME BUTTERFLY FRIENDS 



the wind, simply a dead caterpillar that 

 has imitated Judas. 



One day the caterpillar part sloughs 

 off. It is a fairly sudden process. You 

 may paddle by the willows in the morn- 

 ing and see all your little Judases hang- 

 ing in a row. Paddle back at noon and 

 their skins have shrivelled and slipped 

 off, and you have chrysalids, queer, 

 impish-looking things, swinging there 

 still, head down. You know they are 

 alive; indeed, if you poke them they will 

 wiggle impatiently, but they swing in 

 the wind and give no other sign for a 

 week or ten days. Then they cast a 

 second skin, and pop out full-grown but- 

 terflies that stretch their wings for a 

 time leisurely, then suddenly dash into 

 the air and go off over the hill like 

 mad. The whole thing is so sudden! 

 The change, when it does come, is as 

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