folded the woven portrait from a crowd of sheets of silver paper of the most ethereal lightness. I then placed it in his Majesty's hands. The King examined it minutely on both sides, inquired about its structure, and appeared much pleased at the sight.
I now went over to replace the engraving in its travelling-carriage. The instant it approached its paper case a multitude of sheets of silver paper were disturbed in their snug repose, and forthwith flew up into the air. I made many ineffectual efforts to catch these runaways. The King most condescendingly came to my assistance, took the portrait out of my hands, and endeavoured himself to replace it in its nest, whilst I was attempting to catch the flying covey.
But these volatile papers had no proper respect even for royalty. The quires of silver paper which had remained in the case now came out in all directions, whether to do honour to the King by rising to receive him, or to recall their flighty sisters to their deserted couch I know not; but somehow or other both the King and myself were on the floor upon our knees, having secured some few of the fallen angels, whilst a cloud of others, still on the wing, continually eluded our grasp.
At last I gave up the idea of grabbing at the flying sheets, and confined my attention to seizing on the fallen ones. While still on my knees, I suddenly felt an obstacle presented to my right foot. On looking round I perceived that the heel of royalty had come into contact with the toe of philosophy.
A comic yet kindly smile beamed upon the countenance of the King, whilst an irrepressible but not irreverent one, lightened up my own.
The whole army of butterflies being at last captured, and
