148 a migrating butterfly 
spring, meagre and ravenous, their wings worn and 
battered by the long flight* They will probe the horn 
of the Columbine, the slender tubes of the Honey- 
suckle, and every flower that promises them nectar* 
The exuding sap of the Maple or Birch will be a rich 
repast, and they will revel for a time in the luxuriance 
of our northern land* Soon they will seek their mates, 
like the returning Swallows, and give up their lives 
in the fulfilment of the law of perpetuation, the first 
law of nature* 
