Then putting a soft shawl around the little girl she took her in her lap and let her hold the box. Very soon the caterpillar commenced rolling off its skin, but although Neva watched every minute and almost held her breath, she could scarcely tell how a little, green case, which looked as though it might be made of wax, was hanging where the caterpillar had hung a few moments before, while the old skin lay shriveled up in the bottom of the box. “Isn’t it beautiful, auntie?” she said. “How can God make so many beautiful things?” “Yes, it is very beautiful,” replied her aunt, “but it will be more so after a little; we will set the box up now and look again after you are dressed.” “You were right, auntie,” Neva called a little later. “The green case is a prettier color now and it has a row of such cute little gold knobs near the top. What do you s’pose they are there for?” “You notice that they are placed just where the chrysalis bulges; they are put there to protect the little sleeper when the wind blows the case against anything. You know a chrysalis is usually suspended from a leaf out of doors, and so it needs some such protection,” explained Aunt Doris. “And now how long will this be just a chrysalis and will it just hang and do nothing?” asked the little girl. “If you are watching it closely you will see that it sometimes swings towards the light and sometimes away from the light just as its needs require. It is a sensitive little mummy. But my little Neva will have to be very patient for it may be twelve or even sixteen days before the butterfly appears.” “It’s good I’m making you a long visit,” said Neva, “’cause I wouldn’t like to go home before the butterfly came.” After ten days had passed the chrysalis began to look a little darker and the twelfth day Neva said, “Auntie, I b’lieve I see something that looks like a wing inside of this little case.” “Sure, enough,” said Aunt Doris. “That means that Danais Archippus will soon come out of the little green house.” Almost before she had finished speaking the case began to move and then the part that was over the butterfly’s back burst and a crumpled little object dropped to the bottom of the box. “Oh, what mussed up wings!” exclaimed Neva in an excited whisper, but already the butterfly had commenced distending them and soon they looked three times the size and were all smoothed out. “Now will he fly?” asked Neva. “No, the wings are still drooping a little because they are moist; he will move them back and forth after a little, but will not fly until they are perfectly dry.” “Isn’t he just a beauty! How I wish mamma could see how he looks,” said the little girl in a longing tone. “How would you like to have auntie paint his picture before he is ready to fly away?” asked her aunt. Neva’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, will you?” she exclaimed. “I’ll run and get your paints.”