next day, Danny had been so happy when his dad told him he would order another copy of the book for the library—the copy under his pillow was his!
Walter Bundy had smiled wide and said to his wife, “Who knows, Maggie? Bundy here may just be the world’s youngest lepidopterist.” Danny had been three years old.
The forest behind Danny Bundy’s house was a great place to explore! The trees seemed to go on forever, and the creeks and gullies held so many secrets! Danny loved playing in the forest. This morning, he had high hopes of finding the butterfly of his dreams. His father had said he would not be able to find a monarch butterfly this early in the year, but Danny was not looking for just any butterfly. And, in his mind, he knew anything was possible in the magical forest behind his house. His parents and other kids at school told strange stories about the things that had happened there!
As Danny entered the woods, the first thing he noticed was the rich, wet smell of the forest floor. Grass, fallen leaves, and other things were decomposing, but the forest smelled like life. Danny stood still a moment, taking in the beauty of the forest.
“The butterflies probably need to drink,” Danny said to himself. “I’ll start looking by the water.” He took a deep breath, then started down a hill into a shadowy gully. It led to a bubbling brook lined with many slippery rocks and pebbles covered with algae. Danny paused by the brook. Last year, he had tripped on the rocks, and his mother had had to patch up his cuts and two scraped knees.
“You’re not going to get me this time, brook,” Danny said. “I’m going to hop over you like a grasshopper!” Danny jumped and landed safely on the other side.
“Where are you, butterflies?” he whispered. “I know you’re around here somewhere.”
Just then, Danny heard a loud croak from under a large leaf at the edge of the brook. “I know what’s under there,” Danny said. “Just another lousy ol’ bullfrog!” Danny bent down and lifted the leaf. Sure enough, there it was: a big, fat green-and-gray bullfrog just like the ones all the other boys would bring in for show-and-tell. It seemed to be smiling up at him.
Danny made a face at it. “That’s what I thought,” he said, disgusted. “A rotten, dirty old bullfrog that nobody wants to see.” He threw the wet, rotting leaf in his hand back over the frog. He wiped his slimy hands on his shorts. He turned to continue his search for the butterfly.
“Hold on there, young man!” someone shouted. “What did you just say?!”
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