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Suddenly
there appeared a small herd of lingering butterflies:
pale and iridescent, pearly white, ice blue
and lavender in the rising of the moons. Some
clung to the horses manes and tails. Others
covered the grass with light like gentle moving
flowers. Others stayed with G and J and the
Muff (much to her aggravation.)
G hung up the hammock while J got the red string
and ball of twine out of the baskets and his
splack. He laid the marshmallow light balls on
the grass. They were glowing with an inner white
light that got brighter as it got darker. J strung
red string through the small ones and put one
on Muff’s neck, gave one to Granma and kept the
other for himself. "See, now we have headlights
so we can see where we are going," said
J. And then he ran some burlap twine through
the holes in the medium sized ones. "These
big ones are for Mober and Pepper." "That’s
a great idea, J. You are so smarty pants," said
Granma as she yawned.
As dusk deepened, the whole atmosphere was lit
up with the deep pink glow cast by the last of
the yellow sun on the Peppermints, although they
couldn’t see the mountains themselves. "The
Peppermints must be nearby" said G. "Look
how pink everything is." Even the iridescent
and pale butterflies were now edged with a pink
tinge of color. Then G noticed that the butterflies
flocked to the nearby forest trees, like a herd
of sheep folding up for the night. G & J folded
up too, nestled in the hammock with da Muff on
guard duty. J had dug a special pond in the roadside
water’s edge for his frog to sleep in. He piled
rocks up high to keep the frog in and laid branches
over the top. Such a smarty pants little boy.
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