The tenant's wife wanted me to put it in a pasteboard box, but I
stubbornly insisted on having the jar, why, I do not know, but I
suppose it was because my father's word was gospel to me, and he
had said that the best place to keep my specimens was the cellar
window, and I must have thought the jar the nearest equivalent to
the cellar. The Half-luna did not mind in the least, but went on
lazily opening and closing its wings, yet making no attempt to fly.
If I had known what it was, or anything of its condition, I would
have understood that it had emerged from the cocoon that morning,
and never had flown, but was establishing circulation preparatory
to taking wing. Being only a small, very ignorant girl, the
greatest thing I knew for sure was what I loved.
Tying my sunbonnet over the top of the jar, I stationed myself on
the horse block at the front gate. Every passing team was hailed
with lifted hand, just as I had seen my father do, and in as
perfect an imitation of his voice as a scared little girl making
her first venture alone in the big world could muster, I asked,
"Which way, Friend?"
For several long, hot hours people went to every point of the
compass, but at last a bony young farmer, with a fat wife, and a
fatter baby, in a big wagon, were going to my city, and they said
I might ride.
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