He started to skip away from the wild morning-glory blossom on which he had perched himself. But Betsy caught him just in time—and held him.
"Now, you listen to me!" she commanded. "You're in a dangerous condition. Some day someone will come to you with an important message. And if you go sailing off the way you do, how's he ever[p. 113] going to tell the whole message until it's too late, perhaps?"
"If it was good news it wouldn't hurt it to keep it a while," the Skipper asserted cheerfully. And he gave a quick spring, with the hope of escaping from Betsy's grasp. But she held him firmly by the coat-tails.
"Suppose I wanted to warn you not to go near the flower garden, because Johnnie Green was waiting there for you with his net, to capture you and put you in his collection? You might be sorry, afterwards, if you didn't sit still and listen to me."
"That's so!" said the Skipper. "I hadn't thought of that. I'd see a doctor at once; but I don't know any."
"Go to Aunt Polly Woodchuck, under the hill," Betsy Butterfly advised him. "She's the best doctor for miles around."
[p. 114]So they went, together, to call on Aunt Polly. The old lady looked at the Skipper and shook her head. "I can't help him," she said.
Betsy asked anxiously, "Is his trouble catching?"
"No, indeed!" said Aunt Polly. "He can't stay in one place long enough to give it to anybody."
Well, after that Betsy saw very little of her cousin the Skipper. But she did not mind that, especially since she soon made the acquaintance of a very agreeable young gentleman, who dressed in the height of fashion. He wore a swallowtail coat every day. And the neighbors all said that his manners were delightful.