The butterfly, seeing nothing more of them, comes down by degrees. First he flies to the right, then he flies to the left, then he flies round and round.

‘He can’t make up his mind about anything,’ says Bertie.

‘And he doesn’t know a bit where he is going,’ says Minnie. ‘He looks every minute as if he were going to stop. He seems as if he wanted a daisy, and then he goes right off to another flower.’

Oh!!! this is cool. The impudent butterfly has popped right down on Minnie’s nose. At first Bertie could scarcely believe his eyes.