When on a yacht bound for the Farallone Islands members of the party saw one of these butterflies soaring over the ocean about ten miles from shore. It did not rest on the boat, but with wings spread before the east wind it sped away, following the path of the setting sun like a soul in quest of the ideal. That evening a storm came on suddenly. What was the fate of that lone butterfly?

He died, unlike his mates I ween,

Perhaps not sooner or worse crossed;

And he had felt, thought, known and seen

A larger life and hope, though lost

Far out at sea.

This is the tale of the Winter Butterflies in Bolinas, as told by Mary D. Barber, and put into permanent form by Paul Elder and Company under the direction of Ricardo J. Orozco during the month of January of the year Nineteen Eighteen, with decorations by Rudolph F. Schaeffer.

Transcriber’s Notes