Not only was Betsy Butterfly a beautiful creature.  She was pleasant to everybody.  And almost all her neighbors were just as pleasant to her.  Mrs. Ladybug was one of the few that were sometimes disagreeable to Betsy.  For Mrs. Ladybug did not approve of her.  She thought that Betsy Butterfly was frivolous.  And she frowned whenever she saw Betsy in her beautiful costume.

“She never wears working clothes,” Mrs. Ladybug often complained, when talking to her friends.  “Now, if Betsy Butterfly would only wear something plain and serviceable, as I do, once in a while, people might have a different opinion of her.  She ought to try this hard-finished red and black polka dot of mine.  It’s a wonderful piece of goods.”

One day Mrs. Ladybug was gossiping in that fashion with Mehitable Moth, a soberly clad person who was always a bit jealous of the gorgeous Betsy.  And Mehitable Moth nodded her head to everything that little Mrs. Ladybug said.

“What do you think of Betsy Butterfly’s wings?” Miss Moth inquired.

“They’re all for show,” Mrs. Ladybug declared.  “They’re so flimsy and delicate that Betsy Butterfly never dares venture out in bad weather.  Of what use would I be to Farmer Green if I had wings like hers?  If I stayed under cover whenever the sun didn’t shine, the orchard would soon be overrun with insects.”

Now, it happened that Buster Bumblebee was sipping nectar from a head of clover near by.  Of course, he wasn’t listening to what Mrs. Ladybug and Miss Moth were saying.  But he couldn’t help hearing their remarks.  And being a great admirer of Betsy Butterfly, he wasn’t at all pleased.  He even buzzed near the two gossipers and said to them, “Can’t you find something else to talk about?”

“Such rudeness!” Mrs. Ladybug gasped.

“What shocking manners!” cried Miss Mehitable Moth.

They hoped that Buster Bumblebee heard what they said.  Anyhow, he flew off in his blundering, clumsy way without speaking to them again.

“Who is this Mrs. Ladybug, to pick flaws in the beautiful Betsy Butterfly?” he asked himself savagely.  “Who is she to find fault with Betsy’s lovely wings?  If Mrs. Ladybug herself had wings, I shouldn’t think her chatter so strange.  But a person with no wings has no business expressing his views of somebody else’s.”

Buster Bumblebee was so out of patience with Mrs. Ladybug that he lost his taste for clover heads for the rest of the afternoon.  And that was a most unusual thing with him.  However, he could think of nothing but Mrs. Ladybug and her unkind speeches.  And at last, meeting Betsy Butterfly herself along towards sunset, he stopped to tell how well she was looking and how charming her colors were.

Betsy Butterfly was not vain.  She laughed gayly and said, “You’re very kind to say those agreeable things.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied heartily.

“Everybody’s not like you,” Betsy Butterfly told him.

“Then you’ve been hearing about Mrs. Ladybug!” he cried.  “Somebody has been tattling.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Betsy Butterfly assured him.  “Perhaps it’s good for me to know that everyone doesn’t admire me.”

Buster Bumblebee didn’t agree with her.

“I’ll have to speak to Mrs. Ladybug,” he declared.

“Oh, don’t!” Betsy Butterfly begged him; for she was as gentle as she was beautiful and never wanted people to quarrel on her account.

But Buster Bumblebee had made up his mind and nothing could change it.