"AT THE FARTHEST END OF THE MEADOW"
A FISH AND A BUTTERFLY.
At the very farthest end of the meadow there is water, blue with sky. It flows on and on, growing broad and strong farther down, to turn the mill wheel. But here in the meadow, you can see far off on the other side, and hear the cows ripping off the tender grass, and smell the perfume of wild plums.
Boy Blue lay in the long cool grass watching the water. How sleepily it moved, and what a pretty song it sang! How clear! he could count the pebbles at the bottom; and there, swimming straight toward him, came a tiny fish, making little darts from one side to another, and snapping at the tadpoles on the way. Then he stopped just in front of him.
"Oh, dear!" said a voice; and the little boy could not tell whether it was the fish, or the tomtit scolding on the elder bush. "Dear me!" came the voice again; and the little fish sighed, making a bubble on the top of the water, and rings that grew and grew till they reached the other bank.
"What's the matter?" asked Boy Blue.
"I'd like a new play and new playmates," sighed the fish. "I'm so tired of the old ones!"
"Oh," said the boy, and was just about to ask, "Would I do?" when there came floating along in the air a beautiful butterfly, floating, floating like a ship in full sail.