Once upon a time, on a dewy morning in the lovely springtime, a little caterpillar called Cathy awoke from her sleep, yawned, and looked about. She was the only caterpillar in the whole garden and was surrounded with yellow dandelions which no one but she seemed to love.
“I do not feel very well this morning,” said Cathy, looking at a butterfly fluttering by.
“Don’t think about it,” said the butterfly. “Get out on that sunny leaf and you will soon be all right.”
So Cathy crawled out on the leaf and soon forgot all her troubles. It was such a pleasant day that she crawled about the garden looking for sweet food. But the sun grew hot, and she felt very tired. “I think I will take a little nap,” said Cathy, now quite well again.
So she curled herself up in a tender leaf and soon fell asleep. But she did not know what was going to happen. One day passed and two days and three. Ah! she had slept a long, long time. All at once she woke and felt very hungry again. “I must have been asleep a week!” she said, as she crawled out on a leaf. “How hot the sun is! I am all burning up!”
So she cast off a coat and in two days she got another. “How strange, so to change one’s dress!” said she. In five days more she cast off her second coat. And now she was quite a big caterpillar.
“What if I should change into a butterfly?” she said to herself. “That would please the green leaves and the sweet blossoms very much. But I am afraid my legs will pester my wings!”
Then she looked at her twelve little legs and began to cry. “And I don’t know what my feelings will be! What if I should not like to be a butterfly at all? I like to crawl about and munch dandelion leaves!”
Of course the flower was still only a bud. But when Cathy thought of the bright blossoms, and words full of perfume, and fine mossy cradles all the summer long, her little heart grew quite glad again.
But she could not bear to think about her legs, and so buried her dear worried little head in a soft green cradle made of tender leaves. Here she sobbed and cried till all was still. “Good night, dear Mother Nature.” So she nestled down in her mossy cradle.