peacocks, the caterpillars were as big as
boa-constrictors! Sara didn't know the exact size of a boa-constrictor,
having met them only in her Geography: but surely they couldn't be any
bigger than these! Certainly they were big enough to swallow her as
easily as the big black snake Jimmy had killed swallowed the egg.

Now, if you can imagine a country inhabited by sea-serpents, of bright
green and brown and pink and yellow, with all kinds of assorted horns
and knobs and prickles, you can imagine what Sara saw as the
Gahoppigas took its last flying leap and alighted on a flaming
marigold at the foot of the palace-steps. Well, of course you would
have to imagine the palace, too; and part of it would be quite hard to
imagine. It was a gorgeous place, of a beautiful amber color, and was
built of solid blocks of honey-comb,--which, however, had been treated
by the builders so that they had a hard glaze, to prevent the wings
and feet of the butterflies from sticking when they touched the walls.
The roof was a woven affair, very cunningly made so that the top
surface was a sort of thatch of flower-stems, while the ceiling was a
solid sheet of flowers. Of course, in this climate, they were always
fresh. The butterflies had their beds on the ceiling; indeed, as Sara
arrived rather early, a few roistering young blades who had been out
late the night before were still hanging with closed wings from the
roof, fast asleep.

Sara could see all this through the open door, which was made of an
enameled lily-pad (extra-size, like the other things in this luscious
place). But the thing that startled her most, and that you would have
found it most difficult to imagine, was the strange way in which the
roof was supported.

A very elegant butterfly, who seemed to be an officer in uniform, was
standing on his hind legs at the right of the entrance. His waist was
very slim, his wings were very rich, and he was curling and uncurling
his proboscis languidly. Sara slid off the Gahoppigas and approached
as near as she dared.

At that moment a little gong sounded somewhere (like a temple-gong in
a Japanese fairy-story) and the Butterfly-Officer straightened up and
called out in a sharp, military voice, "Shift Three!"

Instantly the caterpillars that were supporting the roof began
wriggling out from under it, and a new relay that appeared as if by
magic began taking their places, planting their tails firmly on the
floor and adjusting their he