When morning came it was still trembling with indignation; but the
mandarin cried out:
"Make haste, miserable slave; for to-day you must change four
children into pigs, to make up for yesterday."
The butterfly did not reply. His little black eyes were sparkling
wickedly, and no sooner had he dipped his feet into the magic
compound than he flew full in the mandarin's face, and touched him
upon his ugly, flat forehead.
Soon after a gentleman came into the room for his laundry. The
mandarin was not there, but running around the place was a
repulsive, scrawny pig, which squealed most miserably.
The butterfly flew away to a brook and washed from its feet all
traces of the magic compound. When night came it slept in a rose
bush.
End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of American Fairy Tales
by L. Frank Baum
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