RALPH was walking with papa in the fields, when he saw a red and black butterfly. It was on a thistle.

“I will catch him,” said Ralph. So he walked slowly up to the thistle and put out his hand to catch the butterfly. But the butterfly spread his wings and flew up in the air. In a moment he came back and lighted on the thistle again.

Ralph wanted to try to catch him again, but papa said, “The butterfly is eating his dinner.”

“Does he eat the thistle?” asked Ralph.

“He eats the honey in the thistle,” said papa. “We will sit down and I will show you the honey. Each thistle head has a great many tiny flowers. See, like these!” and papa pulled some of them out. Then he took one of the blossoms between his thumb and finger. He pressed the slender tube till Ralph saw a wee drop of honey at the end. Then Ralph wanted to do the same. So he pressed one after the other of the purple tubes and found a drop of honey in each. “Does the butterfly squeeze them that way?” asked Ralph.

“No; he has no thumb and finger,” said papa.

“How can he get the honey, then?” Ralph asked.

“He finds it with his long sucker, which reaches to the bottom of these slender tubes.”

“I wish he would eat this honey, papa, now I have got it all ready for him,” said Ralph. “I’ll ask him.”

So he walked slowly towards the butterfly, holding out the little purple blossoms.

“Here’s some honey all squeezed,” he said softly; “don’t you want it, Butterfly?”

But the butterfly opened and shut his pretty spotted wings and then flew away.