Part 2 (1/2)

By Yeend King

”AT THE FARTHEST END OF THE MEADOW”]

A FISH AND A b.u.t.tERFLY.

At the very farthest end of the meadow there is water, blue with sky. It flows on and on, growing broad and strong farther down, to turn the mill wheel. But here in the meadow, you can see far off on the other side, and hear the cows ripping off the tender gra.s.s, and smell the perfume of wild plums.

Boy Blue lay in the long cool gra.s.s watching the water. How sleepily it moved, and what a pretty song it sang! How clear! he could count the pebbles at the bottom; and there, swimming straight toward him, came a tiny fish, making little darts from one side to another, and snapping at the tadpoles on the way. Then he stopped just in front of him.

”Oh, dear!” said a voice; and the little boy could not tell whether it was the fish, or the tomt.i.t scolding on the elder bush. ”Dear me!” came the voice again; and the little fish sighed, making a bubble on the top of the water, and rings that grew and grew till they reached the other bank.

”What's the matter?” asked Boy Blue.

”I'd like a new play and new playmates,” sighed the fish. ”I'm so tired of the old ones!”

”Oh,” said the boy, and was just about to ask, ”Would I do?” when there came floating along in the air a beautiful b.u.t.terfly, floating, floating like a s.h.i.+p in full sail.

”Oh!” cried the fish, ”how beautiful! how beautiful! Come let us play together--let us play.”

The b.u.t.terfly rested on a thistle bloom and stirred her pale wings thoughtfully. ”Play?” she said.

”Yes, let us play. How beautiful thou art!”

”And thou!” said the b.u.t.terfly; ”all the s.h.i.+ne of the sun and sea gleams in thy armor. Let us play together.”

”Let us play.”

”Come then,” said the b.u.t.terfly; ”come up into the fresh morning air and the sunlight, where everything smiles this sweet May day.”

”There?” cried the fish; ”I would die there; I would die! There is no life for me in your suns.h.i.+ne world. But come with me into this glittering stream; here swimming against the swift current is strong life. Come, let us play here.”

But the b.u.t.terfly trembled. ”There?” she cried; ”if I touched one single little wave I should be swept out and away forever. There is no life for me in the glittering stream.”

They looked across at each other.

”But see,” said the b.u.t.terfly, ”I will come as near as I dare to your water world;” and she spread her beautiful wings and floated down to the edge of the water. The fish with a great stroke swam toward her. But they could only touch the same bit of earth, and the waves always bore him back.

”Ah,” he cried at last, ”it is useless! we cannot play together.”

”Ah,” wept the b.u.t.terfly, ”we cannot play together.”

”Boy Blue,” said the farmer, brus.h.i.+ng aside the long gra.s.s, ”you were asleep.”

”Asleep!” said the little boy, jumping up; ”I couldn't have been. I heard every word the fish and the b.u.t.terfly said.”

The indescribable-- Here it is done; The woman soul Leadeth us upward and on.