"How he trembles!" said Ella; "and why does he wave his wings so?"
"He is getting them ready for flight. And perhaps he trembles from joy to find himself what he is."
"Auntie," said Ella, in a low voice, and with a very grave look, "do you think we shall be as beautiful and as happy when we come out of our graves, and find ourselves angels with wings?"
"No doubt of it," Aunt Kate replied, softly. "A thousand times more beautiful and happy."
"If we are good while we are caterpillars."
"Yes, if we are good."
Ella stood a long time looking at the beautiful insect. Her heart was full of a solemn wonder and awe at this great miracle, as it seemed to her.
"If the caterpillar could have known," she said, "while he was a poor ugly worm, that he would some time be a beautiful butterfly, I think he would have been glad to bury himself up in that coffin. And, Aunt Kate, it seems strange that he should have come out of his grave on Easter-day, our Lord's resurrection day.[2] Perhaps it was to teach Georgie and me an Easter lesson. George will believe it now."
Just then the butterfly slowly lifted himself on his wings, fluttered around in a circle, and settled quivering and trembling on the crocus blossoms. So they left him there while they went down to breakfast.