Spring had sprung, and a very dapper Butterfly fluttered about, feeling quite pleased with himself. "It's time," he thought, "time to find a lovely flower to be my wife!" He was a bit picky, you see. He wanted the prettiest, sweetest, most perfect flower in the whole garden.

First, he spotted a little Daisy. "You're sweet," he said, "but perhaps a bit too... simple for a worldly butterfly like me." The Daisy just smiled brightly, not minding at all.

Next, he saw a pretty Sweet Pea. "Ah, you are charming!" he buzzed. But then he thought, "She looks like she'd want to stay home all day. And what if she wilts too soon?" So, he flew on.

He found a Honeysuckle, dripping with sweetness. "Oh, you are delightful!" he declared. But then he noticed she was a bit older. "Hmm, a little too sweet, and perhaps past her prime," he whispered to himself, and off he went.

An Anemone caught his eye. "Very striking!" he said. But when he got closer, she seemed a bit... sharp. "A little too bitter for my taste," he decided.

A shy little Violet peeked out. "So gentle," he mused. "But maybe too quiet and sentimental. I need someone with more sparkle!"

He passed a Lime-blossom tree. "So many flowers!" he exclaimed. "But they all look the same, and imagine all those relatives!" An Apple-blossom looked almost like a rose. "Almost perfect," he thought, "but not quite the real thing."

Then he saw her – a lovely Pea-blossom, one of many sisters. "She's the one!" he thought, his wings fluttering with excitement. He flew over, ready to ask. But alas! She shyly pointed to a sturdy beetle nearby. "I'm already promised," she whispered.

The Butterfly's antennae drooped. "Oh dear," he sighed.

Feeling a bit sad, the Butterfly decided to travel. He flew north, then he flew south, but no flower seemed just right. One day, he landed on a patch of Mint. "You're not exactly a flower," he said to the Mint, "but you smell quite nice. Will you marry me?"

The Mint rustled her leaves. "Marry you? Goodness, no! I'm far too old and sensible for such things. Besides, we're just friends, aren't we?"

The Butterfly felt quite discouraged. Then, a big rainstorm came. He got soaked! His beautiful colors faded, and his wings felt heavy. He wasn't so dapper anymore.

One day, as he rested on a leaf, a net swooped down! A boy who collected butterflies had caught him. Soon, the Butterfly found himself pinned neatly in a box, alongside many other insects.

He looked around at the other pinned butterflies and beetles. "Well," he sighed, trying to make the best of it. "It's not what I planned, but at least I'm not alone. This is a kind of marriage, I suppose. A sitting-down marriage, where we all sit together in our little compartments."

And there he stayed, a rather plain butterfly in a collector's box, still dreaming of the perfect flower he never found.

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