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Tale of Betsy Butterfly (Version 2)

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<h2>XVII</h2> <h3>DUSTY'S DIFFICULTY</h3> It was to be expected that as time went on, Betsy Butterfly's fame would spread far and wide. And long before the summer was over, half the creatures that lived in Pleasant Valley knew her. They were the ones that went about by daylight and rested at night. As for the other half—the night-prowlers—many of them had heard about the beautiful Betsy, though of course they had never seen her. That is, none of them had set eyes on her except Freddie Firefly, who had flashed his light upon Betsy all one night, because Mrs. Ladybug had a strange notion that she was stealing butter from the farmhouse. In fact, after that happened, Freddie Firefly had gone about telling all his friends how beautiful Betsy Butterfly was, and saying what a pity it was that she didn't like moonlight as well as sunshine. He talked so much about her that at last a good many of the night-prowling people said that they wished they might see Betsy Butterfly just once, for they could scarcely believe that anybody could be as dainty and bewitching as Freddie Firefly would have them believe her. And there was one dashing young chap of the Moth family who became especially eager to make Betsy's acquaintance. Indeed, he began to complain that he was losing his appetite, through thinking about Betsy Butterfly. So he besought Freddie Firefly to help him out of his difficulty. Now, while he was talking with Freddie Firefly, this young Moth, who was known as Dusty, never once stopped eating. Freddie Firefly noticed how his fat sides stuck out. And he wondered what the fellow's appetite could have been like before he lost some of it. "You don't act like one in delicate health," Freddie Firefly observed, as he watched the greedy Dusty consume more food. "Oh, but I am!" Dusty Moth protested feebly. "I'm so weak now that I can hardly raise myself with my wings." Freddie was sure that Dusty's trouble was merely due to his being too fat. But he saw no reason for quarreling with him. "Can't you think of some plan by which I could meet Betsy Butterfly?" Dusty Moth persisted. "Perhaps if I could see her just once I'd be able to get my mind off her—and on my meals again." "I don't know how I can help you," Freddie Firefly confessed. "You see, Betsy goes home exactly at sunset. And at present she never seems to make her home in the same place for even two nights. So one can never be sure where she will be. "Of course, when the sun is shining you can always find her among the flowers. But that won't help you any, because you're such a sleepy-head in the daytime that you couldn't see anything even if it was stuck right into your eyes." "Can't you explain my sad case to Betsy Butterfly?" Dusty Moth asked hopefully. "I've heard that she's very kind-hearted. And if she knew how I'm suffering on her account I'm sure she'd be glad to meet me some pleasant, dark night." He begged so piteously that in the end Freddie Firefly agreed to do what he could. "But I warn you—" he said—"I warn you that I can't give you much hope." <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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