Read Online Margaret and the Moth Tree by Brit Trogen, Kari Trogen - Free Book Online Page A

you,” said Margaret.
    â€œYou keep away from him!” cried the first voice. “See, Pip, you’re encouraging it. Don’t say another word!”
    But as Margaret watched, the small moth fluttered lower down, settling in a sliver of moonlight near her face.
    She could see now that he had two glittering, unblinking eyes, a pair of waving feelers that were reaching out toward her, three pairs of legs and two beautiful dusty gray wings. His head was cocked on one side, and he seemed to be studying Margaret’s features just as she was studying his.
    â€œI’m Margaret,” said Margaret, remembering her manners.
    â€œPipperflit,” said the moth, with a flit of his wings. “But you can call me Pip. You’re not going to gobble me up, are you?”
    â€œNo, of course not!” said Margaret.
    â€œGood,” said Pip. “You know, I didn’t think humans could hear us.”
    â€œI didn’t think moths could talk,” said Margaret.
    â€œDidn’t you? How funny!” The moth crawled along a branch until he was perched right in front of Margaret’s nose. “Where did you come from?” he said.
    â€œFrom the orphanage.”
    â€œOh,” said Pip. He was silent for a moment, and then nodded quickly. “Oh, yes, the orfallidge. I see. What’s that?”
    â€œIt’s a place for orphans. Children with no parents.”
    Pip looked up at her in amazement. “No parents!” he cried. “But where in the world did you come from?”
    â€œNo, no!” Margaret said. “We
had
parents once, just not anymore. Now we only have the Switch.”
    â€œOh, yes, the Switch. I understand,” said Pip, nodding. Then a few moments later, “What’s a Switch?”
    â€œShe’s horrible,” Margaret said.
    Just then, two more moths came fluttering down from the upper branches of the tree.
    â€œNow you’ve done it!” one of them said, fluttering its wings in agitation. “Now that you’ve talked to it, it will probably stay here forever!”
    â€œDon’t be such a stinkbeetle!” said Pip. “I’m only being friendly. Anyway, it’s called
Margaret
. This is Rimblewisp, and that’s Flitterwing,” said Pip to Margaret. “Rimb and Flit for short.”
    The two new moths landed on the branch, then tilted their heads to one side just as Pip had done.
    â€œWhatsit?” said Flit.
    â€œHmph,” said Rimb. “Why’s it so big?”
    â€œHello,” said Margaret, feeling rather silly. “I won’t stay forever. I promise.”
    â€œThere, you see!” said Pip. “It’s only visiting.”
    â€œWell, it still seems very odd. Where did it come from?”
    â€œThe orfallidge,” Pip said.
    â€œOh,” said Rimb. The moth named Flit nodded.
    Margaret only smiled. And as she sat there in the tree, talking with the moths in the dark of night, Margaret Grey became one of the few people in the world ever to discover the truth about moths.
    CHAPTER 16 The Truth about Moths
    While the sight of a butterfly sets people to skipping around with nets, the sight of a moth most often inspires shrieks and fainting fits. Indeed, you may think that moths are nothing more than unfashionable butterflies — drab, ugly creatures to be ignored or run away from. But the truth about moths is much more wonderful.
    If you were to sit and watch a moth for a whole day, it might look as if it were doing nothing at all. But the
night
is a different matter entirely. Nighttime is when the moths come alive.
    As soon as the sun has set and the moths emerge from their nooks and corners, they have only one purpose until the next day’s sunrise: to have as much fun as they possibly can.
    They will play and fly and flutter in the moonlight until they are nearly breathless, stopping only for a sip of nectar or a drop of dew, then they will loop and spin and