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Children of the Wild by Charles G. D. Roberts
page 66 of 200 (33%)

For two or three moments the flake of sky fluttered higher. Then, as
the ripples smoothed themselves out, she seemed to forget, and began to
descend again as if lured downward by her own dainty reflection. Yet
she had not quite forgotten, for now she only came within six or seven
inches of the traitorous surface. Now her heavenly wings supported her
for a moment almost motionless.

In that moment a splendid shape, gleaming like a bolt of silver, shot a
clear foot into the air and fell back with a massive splash. The
turquoise butterfly was gone.

"Oh--h!" cried the Babe, almost with a sob in his voice. He loved the
blue butterflies as he loved no others of their brilliant and perishing
kindred.

"_Gee_!" exclaimed Uncle Andy. "But he's a _whale_!"

The Babe, in his surprise at this remarkable statement, forgot to mourn
for the fate of the blue butterfly.

"Why, Uncle Andy," he protested. "I didn't know whales could live here
in this little lake."

Uncle Andy made a despairing gesture. "Oh," he murmured wearily, "a
fellow has to be _so_ careful what he says to you! The next time I
make a metaphorical remark in your presence, I'll draw a diagram to go
with it!"

The Babe looked puzzled. He was on the point of asking what "a
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