The Butterfly's Real Name

By Neville Honey

Illustrated by Neal Stepp



Once upon a time, years and years and years ago in England, many creatures did not have names. Life was very difficult and everyone was too busy trying to survive to worry about things like names. One day, the greatest leader of the land, who was called Slog, decided that all creatures must be named. Slog was sick of getting the wrong food for his dinner. He would ask his cook for a 'thingmagummy blobby' and expect to have a nice dinner of beef and beer. Instead, he would get a dish of two old mouldy cabbages, which would make him very cross. Therefore, Slog gathered together a hundred of the wisest men in England and told them to go and name all the creatures in the world. He also told them that they could not go back to their families until they had finished.

The wise men set out in winter to name all the creatures they could find. But there are no butterflies in winter, and so they did not see any. The wise men set out in spring, when everything is bursting with life. But there had been an enormous storm the day before and it had blown all the butterflies to the four corners of the earth, so the wise men did not see any. The wise men set out in the middle of summer, but it was too hot during the day to be in the sun. So they went at night to see what was out and about. But all the butterflies were fast asleep at night, so the wise men did not see any. The wise men set out in autumn to name the creatures as they prepared for the winter months. But every time a butterfly flew overhead the wise men were looking at the ground, and so they did not see any.

By this time the wise men were getting very homesick. When their leader suggested that they go out and look for more creatures, just in case they had missed some, 99 wise men all shouted at the top of their voices until the leader got a headache. The leader then agreed that perhaps they had named all the creatures after all, and the wise men went back to Slog. They told him that all the creatures had been named; whether they were of the air or of the land or of the water; whether they flew or walked or swam or simply stayed still; whether they were creatures of the night or day or lived so far underground that they did not see the night or the day. They were wrong, of course, as there was a certain flying insect that still did not have a name, but Slog never noticed. He was not interested in flying insects and never wanted a meal of lightly fried butterflies.

This did not matter very much, as most people were only interested in what was important, which was staying alive. They had more serious things to worry about because the Vikings had invaded England in their longboats. Because of the Vikings, the mail was unreliable and people couldn't get fish for a meal of fish and chips. Holidays by the seaside were simply out of the question because of all those Vikings and longboats taking up the best places on the beaches. Life was dreadful, so who cared what those flying things were called. When people saw flying insects with beautiful colours and patterns on their wings, they simply admired them and wondered if they were good to eat.

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