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Updated: May 28, 2025
When one saw her flittering among the flowers it was hard to say which was the daintier the blossoms or Betsy Butterfly. For that was her name. Whoever gave it to her might have chosen a prettier one. Betsy herself always said that she would have preferred Violet. In the first place, it was the name of a flower. And in the second, her red-and-brown mottled wings had violet tips.
There were several men at work on her decks, and it was plain that she was to sail on this tide, for her red-and-brown striped sail was ready for hoisting, and there was nothing left alongside to be stowed. She was not yet afloat however, though the tide was fast rising. Evan hailed one of the men, and he came ashore to him. The bearers set down my litter and waited. "Where is the shipmaster?"
Under your feet a red-and-brown carpet of last year's leaves was spread, stirred now and then with sudden mysterious rustlings as the small wild creatures darted away at the sound of your step. These and the birds shared the woods in almost complete solitude, disturbed now and again by the woodcutters, or boys from the village.
But as soon as he began chasing them, they flew away to the meadow. That is, all but Betsy Butterfly. She said she was sure Johnnie Green wouldn't annoy her. And that was where she was wrong. The moment he caught sight of her, with her mottled red-and-brown wings with the violet tips, Johnnie cried: "There's a beauty!"
So that the story, as it fell in easy sequence, had a charm which was his and is hard to trap, yet it is too good a story to leave unwritten. A picture goes with it, what I looked at as I listened: a massive head on tremendous shoulders; bright white hair and a black bar of eyebrows, striking and dramatic; underneath, eyes dark and alive, a face deep red-and-brown with out of doors.
Try it yourself for half an hour." She drew off the reefer. Bob objected. "I like the red jacky, Dotter Burns," he said. It was his first comment. Hitherto he had been in a dazed state, submitting wonderingly to this strange experience. Another small coat of tan-coloured cloth with a gorgeous red-and-brown emblem on the sleeve consoled him: "I think we are through," said Mrs.
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