Laura was carrying a little basket of fruit to her godmother. The old lady resided in her summer house in an adjacent village, and a shady footpath through the park led to it. It was lonely at this hour in the wood, and the birds alone saw how free from care was the smile that played around the little mouth of the agile girl, and how full of glee were the beautiful deep blue eyes that peered into the thicket. But although Laura seemed to hasten, she stopped frequently. First it occurred to her that the leaves of the copper beech would look well in her brown felt hat: she broke off a branch, took off her hat, and stuck the leaves on it; and in order to give herself the pleasure of looking at it, she held her hat in her hand and put a gauze handkerchief over her head for protection against the rays of the sun. She admired the chequered light thrown by the sun on the road. Then a squirrel ran across the path, scrambled quick as lightning up a tree and hid itself in the branches; Laura looked up and perceived its beautiful bushy tail through the foliage, and fancied herself on the top of the tree, in the midst of the foliage and fruit, swinging on a branch, then leaping from bough to bough, and finally taking a walk--high in the air, on the tops of the trees--over the fluttering leaves as though upon green hills. When she came near the water that flowed on the other side of the path, she perceived that a large number of frogs, sitting in the sun on the bank, sprang into the water with great leaps, as if by word of command. She ran up to them and saw with astonishment that in the water, they had a different appearance; they were not at all so clumsy; they went along like little gentlemen with big stomachs and thick necks, but with long legs which struck out vigorously. Then when a large frog steered up to her and popped his head out of the water, she drew back and laughed at herself. Thus she passed through the wood, herself a butterfly, and at peace with all the world.