" Then she said,
"Aw pshaw! I didn't mean in the jar!" Then they both laughed.
I thought they were amused at me, but I had no intention of
risking an injury to my Half-luna, for there had been one black
day on which I had such a terrible experience that it entailed a
lifetime of caution.
I had captured what I afterward learned was an Asterias, that
seemed slightly different from any previous specimen, and a
yellow swallow-tail, my first Papilio Turnus. The yellow one was
the largest, most beautiful butterfly I ever had seen. I was
carrying them, one between each thumb and forefinger, and running
with all possible speed to reach the screen before my touch could
soil the down on their exquisite wings. I stumbled, and fell, so
suddenly, there was no time to release them. The black one sailed
away with a ragged wing, and the yellow was crushed into a shapeless
mass in my hand. I was accustomed to falling off fences, from trees,
and into the creek, and because my mother was an invalid I had
learned to doctor my own bruises and uncomplainingly go my way.
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