re humming, and
the flowers are opening in the sun. Let us go; it is time."

Graceful kissed his grandmother for the last time, and took the road
to Paestum, Pensive fluttering to the right and the left in pursuit of
the flies, and Fido fawning on his young master or running before him.

They had gone two leagues from the town when Graceful saw Fido talking
with the ants, who were marching in regular troops, carrying all their
provisions with them.

"Where are you going?" asked he.

"To the Castle of Life," they answered.

A little farther on Pensive encountered the grasshoppers, who had also
set out on a journey, together with the bees and the butterflies; all
were going to the Castle of Life, to drink of the Fountain of
Immortality. They traveled in company, like people following the same
road. Pensive introduced Graceful to a young butterfly that chatted
agreeably. Friendship springs up quickly in youth; in an hour the two
comrades were inseparable.

To go straight forward does not suit the taste of butterflies, and
Graceful's friend was constantly losing himself among the grass.
Graceful, who had never been free in his life, nor had seen so many
flowers and so much sunshine, followed all the windings of his
companion, and troubled himself no more about the day than if it were
never to end; but, after a few leagues' journey his new friend began
to be weary.

"Don't go any farther," said he to Graceful. "See how beautiful is
this landscape, how fragrant these flowers, and how balmy these
fields. Let us stay here; this is life."

"Let us go on," said Fido; "the day is long, and we are only at the
beginning."

"Let us go on," said Pensive; "the sky is clear and the horizon
unbounded. Let us go on."

Graceful, restored to his senses, reasoned sagely with the butterfly,
who fluttered constantly to the right and the left, but all in vain.
"What matters it to me?" said the insect. "Yesterday I was a
caterpillar, to-night I shall be nothing. I will enjoy to-day." And he
settled on a full-blown Paestum rose. The perfume was so strong that
the poor butterfly was suffocated. Graceful vainly endeavored to
recall him to life; then, bemoaning his fate, he fastened him with a
pin to his hat like a cockade.

Toward noon the grasshoppers stopped in turn. "Let us rest," said
they; "the heat will overpower us if we struggle against the noonday
sun. It is so pleasant to live in sweet repose! Come, Graceful, we
will diver