od
quietly grazing in a field. The poor creature ran away with piteous
bleats, and the boy laughed and followed after it, striking the
frightened animal again and again.

"Really," thought the butterfly, "I do not wonder the mandarin hates
children, if they are all so cruel and wicked as this one."

The calf having escaped him the boy came back to the road, where he
met two little girls on their way to school. One of them had a red
apple in her hand, and the boy snatched it away and began eating it.
The little girl commenced to cry, but her companion, more brave and
sturdy, cried out:

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you nasty boy!"

At this the boy reached out and slapped her pretty face, whereupon
she also began to sob.

Although possessed of neither soul nor conscience, the butterfly had
a very tender heart, and now decided it could endure this boy no
longer.

"If I permitted him to exist," it reflected, "I should never forgive
myself, for the monster would do nothing but evil from morning 'til
night."

So it flew directly into his face and touched his forehead with its
sticky front feet.

The next instant the boy had disappeared, but a grunting pig ran
swiftly up the road in the direction of its sty.

The butterfly gave a sigh of relief.

"This time I have indeed used the mandarin's magic upon a child," it
whispered, as it floated lazily upon the light breeze; "but since
the child was originally a pig I do not think I have any cause to
reproach myself. The little girls were sweet and gentle, and I would
not injure them to save my life, but were all boys like this
transformed pig, I should not hesitate to carry out the mandarin's
orders."

Then it flew into a rose bush, where it remained comfortably until
evening. At sundown it returned to its master.

"Have you changed two of them into pigs?" he asked, at once.

"I have," replied the butterfly. "One was a pretty, black-eyed baby,
and the other a freckle-faced, red-haired, barefooted newboy."

"Good! Good! Good!" screamed the mandarin, in an ecstasy of delight.
"Those are the ones who torment me the most! Change every newboy you
meet into a pig!"

"Very well," answered the butterfly, quietly, and ate its supper of
molasses.

Several days were passed by the butterfly in the same manner. It
fluttered aimlessly about the flower gardens while the sun shone,
and returned at night to the mandarin with false tales of turning
children into swine