A little boy was playing with his school-mates on some heath-land when he spied a big red butterfly. He pulled off his cap and flung it at the creature, but missed; the butterfly hovered a little, and fluttered away. The boy followed excitedly until it settled. Again he threw his cap, but again the butterfly opened its crimson wings and flew away.
So the boy continued chasing it round and about the heath. Ever it led on, and ever the boy followed, but he could not take it for his own.
Suddenly he heard a cry from a little girl. "That is Effie," he thought. "She must have hurt herself. Oh bother! I will have just one more shot." He threw his cap again, but missed the butterfly as before.
Effie gave another cry. She was evidently in trouble. Well, he would give up the butterfly after all, and see what was the matter with her. She had caught her dress in a bramble, but seemed more frightened than hurt. He stooped and carefully removed the prickles. She was glad and smiled, and rubbed a sore place on her bare arm.
He thought sadly, "The butterfly will have gone now. I have lost it."
"Oh look!" exclaimed Effie, clapping her hands with delight. The butterfly had settled on his shoulder.