The Butterfly That Stamped

This, my dear, is a story about the most wise King Solomon, and his most wise Queen Balkis, and a very small Butterfly.

Solomon was wise. He understood what the beasts said, what the birds said, what the fishes said, and what the insects said. He understood what the rocks whispered deep in the earth, and what the trees murmured in the morning. Balkis, his Head Queen, was nearly as wise as he was.

Solomon was also strong. Upon his finger he wore a ring. When he turned it once, Djinns and spirits came out of the earth to do his bidding. When he turned it twice, Fairies came down from the sky. When he turned it three times, the Angel of the Sword came dressed as a water-carrier, and told him the news of the three worlds.

And yet, for all his wisdom and strength, Solomon was very seldom proud. He tried to be humble.

Now, Solomon lived in an enormous golden palace with the loveliest gardens in the world. But the palace was full of noisy royal cousins who quarrelled from morning till night. They argued about jewellery. They argued about seats at the table. They argued about who had the best rooms. They argued for the sake of arguing.

Solomon could easily have used his magic ring to make all the noisy cousins vanish, or turn them into mules, or send them to live at the bottom of the sea. But he did not want to seem proud. So instead he walked in the garden by himself, and tried not to mind.

One afternoon, when the noisy cousins had been arguing for three whole weeks, Solomon walked out into the garden more sadly than usual. Queen Balkis, seeing him so downcast, followed at a distance and hid behind a tall camphor tree, so that she could watch over her husband.

Presently, two Butterflies flew under the camphor tree, arguing.

'I marvel at your rudeness!' said the He-Butterfly. 'Don't you know that if I stamped my foot, the whole of King Solomon's palace and every garden here would immediately vanish in a clap of thunder?'

Solomon, hearing this, smiled — the first smile he had smiled in many days. He held out his hand. 'Little friend,' he said, 'come here.'

The Butterfly, dreadfully frightened, fluttered up and landed on Solomon's finger.

'Little friend,' whispered Solomon, 'you know that all your stamping wouldn't bend one blade of grass. Why did you tell your wife such a whopping fib?'

The Butterfly looked at Solomon, and he saw that the wise King's eyes twinkled kindly like stars on a frosty night. So he plucked up his courage.

'O King, live forever,' he said. 'She is my wife, and you know what wives are like.'

'Yes,' said Solomon, smiling into his beard. 'I know, little brother.'

'One must keep them in order somehow,' said the Butterfly. 'And she has been quarrelling with me all morning. I said that to quiet her.'

'Well,' said Solomon, 'go back to your wife. And listen carefully. When she next asks you to stamp your foot, stamp it. I shall arrange the rest.'

Now, behind the camphor tree, Queen Balkis had heard every word. And a wonderful idea came to her. She stretched out her own soft finger and whispered to the She-Butterfly. 'Little sister, come here.'

Up flew the She-Butterfly. 'O Queen,' she said politely, 'you know what men-folk are like.'

'I do,' said Queen Balkis with a small smile. 'Now, little sister, next time your husband boasts, take him at his word. Ask him to stamp his foot. See what happens.'

The She-Butterfly flew back to her husband, and within moments they were arguing worse than ever.

'REMEMBER!' shouted the He-Butterfly. 'Remember what I can do!'

'I don't believe it,' shouted the She-Butterfly. 'Prove it! STAMP! STAMP RIGHT NOW!'

'But I promised the King I wouldn't.'

'Excuses.'

Solomon, watching from beneath the tree, was doing his very best not to laugh out loud.

The He-Butterfly flew back to him, quite hot and puffing. 'She is insisting I stamp,' he said miserably. 'And she'll laugh at me forever if I don't do something!'

'She won't,' said Solomon kindly. And he turned his magic ring, for the sake of the little Butterfly and not for the sake of showing off. And four enormous winged Djinns rose out of the ground.

'Djinns,' said Solomon, 'when this gentleman on my finger stamps his left front foot, you will lift the entire palace and gardens up into the sky with a great crack of thunder. When he stamps again, you will set them back down, very gently.'

Meanwhile Balkis was smiling behind her tree, delighted with what was about to happen.

The He-Butterfly, feeling ten feet tall, flew back to his wife. 'Watch this!' he cried.

And he stamped his tiny foot.

The four Djinns jerked the palace and every garden a thousand miles into the air. There was an ENORMOUS thunderclap. Everything went inky black.

Inside the palace, hundreds of noisy royal cousins shrieked and howled. 'Oh! Oh! Bring us back! We shall never argue again! Never! Never!'

The She-Butterfly, fluttering about in the dark, cried out too. 'Oh, please, put it back! I shall never doubt you again!'

Solomon whispered to the He-Butterfly, 'Stamp once more, little friend. Give me back my palace.'

The He-Butterfly stamped again. The Djinns lowered everything down as gently as feathers, exactly where it had been. The sun shone. The fountains splashed. The birds sang.

Down from the palace steps came the hundreds of quarrelsome royal cousins, wide-eyed, trembling, silent. Queen Balkis stepped out from behind the camphor tree, quite calm.

'What was that?' the cousins whispered.

'That,' said Balkis serenely, 'was a Butterfly. A butterfly complained to the King about his wife's quarrelling, and it pleased the King to show her a small lesson. For quarrelling — even quarrelling among butterflies — is a very bad habit.'

The cousins looked at each other. They looked at the Butterfly. They looked at the King. They tiptoed back inside as quiet as mice, and they never argued so loudly again.

And Queen Balkis and King Solomon went in to their dinner, and they laughed and laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. For it was the first peaceful evening they had had in many, many months.

And it had all been arranged by two very small Butterflies in the garden.

(Freely retold for bedtime from Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories, 1902.)