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A
peculiar
movement
beneath
a
small
walnut
tree
caught
his
attention
.
He
stopped
to
investigate
.
There
was
an
unusually
large
Luna
cocoon
,
and
the
moth
was
bursting
the
upper
end
in
its
struggles
to
reach
light
and
air
.
Freckles
stood
and
stared
.
“
There
’
s
something
in
there
trying
to
get
out
,
”
he
muttered
.
“
Wonder
if
I
could
help
it
?
Guess
I
best
not
be
trying
.
If
I
hadn
’
t
happened
along
,
there
wouldn
’
t
have
been
anyone
to
do
anything
,
and
maybe
I
’
d
only
be
hurting
it
.
It
’
s
—
it
’
s
—
—
Oh
,
skaggany
!
It
’
s
just
being
born
!
”
Freckles
gasped
with
surprise
.
The
moth
cleared
the
opening
,
and
with
many
wabblings
and
contortions
climbed
up
the
tree
.
He
stared
speechless
with
amazement
as
the
moth
crept
around
a
limb
and
clung
to
the
under
side
.
There
was
a
big
pursy
body
,
almost
as
large
as
his
thumb
,
and
of
the
very
snowiest
white
that
Freckles
ever
had
seen
.
There
was
a
band
of
delicate
lavender
across
its
forehead
,
and
its
feet
were
of
the
same
colour
;
there
were
antlers
,
like
tiny
,
straw
-
colored
ferns
,
on
its
head
,
and
from
its
shoulders
hung
the
crumpled
wet
wings
.
As
Freckles
gazed
,
tense
with
astonishment
,
he
saw
that
these
were
expanding
,
drooping
,
taking
on
color
,
and
small
,
oval
markings
were
beginning
to
show
.
The
minutes
passed
.
Freckles
’
steady
gaze
never
wavered
.
Without
realizing
it
,
he
was
trembling
with
eagerness
and
anxiety
.
As
he
saw
what
was
taking
place
,
“
It
’
s
going
to
fly
,
”
he
breathed
in
hushed
wonder
.
The
morning
sun
fell
on
the
moth
and
dried
its
velvet
down
,
while
the
warm
air
made
it
fluffy
.
The
rapidly
growing
wings
began
to
show
the
most
delicate
green
,
with
lavender
fore
-
ribs
,
transparent
,
eye
-
shaped
markings
,
edged
with
lines
of
red
,
tan
,
and
black
,
and
long
,
crisp
trailers
.
Freckles
was
whispering
to
himself
for
fear
of
disturbing
the
moth
.
It
began
a
systematic
exercise
of
raising
and
lowering
its
exquisite
wings
to
dry
them
and
to
establish
circulation
.
The
boy
realized
that
soon
it
would
be
able
to
spread
them
and
sail
away
.
His
long
-
coming
soul
sent
up
its
first
shivering
cry
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
it
is
!
Oh
,
I
wish
I
knew
!
How
I
wish
I
knew
!
It
must
be
something
grand
!
It
can
’
t
be
a
butterfly
!
It
’
s
away
too
big
.
Oh
,
I
wish
there
was
someone
to
tell
me
what
it
is
!
”
He
climbed
on
the
locust
post
,
and
balancing
himself
with
the
wire
,
held
a
finger
in
the
line
of
the
moth
’
s
advance
up
the
twig
.
It
unhesitatingly
climbed
on
,
so
he
stepped
to
the
path
,
holding
it
to
the
light
and
examining
it
closely
.
Then
he
held
it
in
the
shade
and
turned
it
,
gloating
over
its
markings
and
beautiful
coloring
.
When
he
held
the
moth
to
the
limb
,
it
climbed
on
,
still
waving
those
magnificent
wings
.
“
My
,
but
I
’
d
like
to
be
staying
with
you
!
”
he
said
.
“
But
if
I
was
to
stand
here
all
day
you
couldn
’
t
grow
any
prettier
than
you
are
right
now
,
and
I
wouldn
’
t
grow
smart
enough
to
tell
what
you
are
.
I
suppose
there
’
s
someone
who
knows
.
Of
course
there
is
!
Mr
.
McLean
said
there
were
people
who
knew
every
leaf
,
bird
,
and
flower
in
the
Limberlost
.
Oh
Lord
!
How
I
wish
You
’
d
be
telling
me
just
this
one
thing
!
”
