<h2> A RAMBLE ON THE MOON. </h2>
<p>The moon was shining brightly and flooding
Harry's room with its rays. He was suffering so
very much, and had tried in vain to sleep. Presently
he asked his nurse if she would not let
Mary come and talk to him. "It will not tire
me," he begged earnestly; "and it does tire me
to lie here hour after hour with no one to talk to."</p>
<p>His nurse understood him so well, and her
heart ached for the lonely child who had so little
to amuse him in life. She never refused a request
if it were at all possible to grant it. So she
called his sister Mary, who hastened at once to
his room, and brother and sister were soon far
away on a ramble in starland.</p>
<p>"We shall go to the moon this evening," she
began, "and find out what a queer old world
it is."</p>
<p>"Old?" asked Harry; "why do you call it
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_50' name='Page_50'>[50]</SPAN></span>
old, when it looks so bright and new? See,
sister, how it seems to be looking right into the
window and watching us. I wonder if it knows
what we are saying about it. Now what would
it think if it heard you calling it old?"</p>
<div class="figcenter p6">
<ANTIMG src="images/i-049.jpg" width-obs="550" height-obs="469" alt="THE MOON." />
<p class="caption">THE MOON.</p>
</div>
<p>"But it is," said Mary, laughing; "and very
old indeed. Its face is wrinkled and scarred, and
is just like that of the old dried-up apple we
found in the orchard the other day."
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_51' name='Page_51'>[51]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"What makes it so bright, then, if it is so
old?" asked Harry, as he looked curiously at the
moon.</p>
<p>"It borrows its light from the sun," replied his
sister; "if the sun were to stop shining you would
not be able to see the moon at all. It would be
as dark as night and twice as gloomy."</p>
<p>"Do you think there are people on the moon?"
asked Harry excitedly.</p>
<p>"No, dear, not even the 'Man in the Moon,'
though I am going to tell you some stories about
him presently. Besides, no one could live on the
moon, as there is not any air to breathe, and you
cannot live without air. There is not any water
to drink; in fact, there is not a drop of water on
the moon."</p>
<p>"Then it must be very old," said Harry
thoughtfully, "because you know you told me,
sister, some time ago, that if a planet grows very
old all the oceans and bays disappear."</p>
<p>"Yes, the moon is very old; it is a dead world.
If you could go there, you would find it a very
gloomy spot. There are no trees or flowers; and
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_52' name='Page_52'>[52]</SPAN></span>
there is not even a blade of grass. The sky is
always black and the stars shine night and day.
The shadows are so black on the moon that it
would be a fine place to play hide-and-seek. The
moment you stepped into a shadow you would
become invisible."</p>
<div class="figcenter p6">
<ANTIMG src="images/i-051.jpg" width-obs="550" height-obs="347" alt="SCENERY ON THE MOON." />
<p class="caption">SCENERY ON THE MOON.</p>
</div>
<p>"Just like the prince in the fairy tale who put
on a little cap and no one could see him," said
Harry.</p>
<p>"Yes; that prince would not need the cap on
the moon. If he did not want anyone to know
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_53' name='Page_53'>[53]</SPAN></span>
he was there, all he would have to do would be to
keep in the shadow. No one would hear his footsteps,
as not a sound can be heard on the moon.
It would be useless to speak, as there is no air to
carry the sound of a voice."</p>
<p>"I should not like to go to the moon, then," said
Harry seriously, "because you could not tell me
any stories, sister, could you? What would I do
then?"</p>
<p>"I really cannot imagine," said Mary, laughing;
"but perhaps you might come across the
Man in the Moon and talk to him in sign-language."</p>
<p>"Like the deaf-and-dumb people?" asked
Harry.</p>
<p>"If he could understand it," said Mary; "but
then, we know there is really not any Man in the
Moon."</p>
<p>"But there is a story about him," said Harry
coaxingly, "and I do wish you would tell it to
me, just now while the moon is looking at us
from the sky."
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_54' name='Page_54'>[54]</SPAN></span></p>
<h3 class="notop"> THE MAN IN THE MOON. </h3>
<p>"Well, once upon a time," began Mary, in true
fairy-story fashion, "there was a man who went
out into the woods and picked up sticks on a
Sunday. That was very wicked of him, you know,
because Sunday is a day of rest, and picking up
sticks is work. He tied the sticks together into a
bundle, and, putting them on his shoulder, started
to walk home with them. On the way he met a
handsome stranger, who said to him:</p>
<p>"'What are you picking up sticks for on Sunday?'</p>
<p>"'It does not matter to me whether it is Sunday
or Monday,' replied the man roughly. 'I
pick up sticks when I want to.'</p>
<p>"'Very well, then,' replied the handsome
stranger sternly, 'since you will not observe Sunday
as a day of rest on earth, you shall have
an everlasting moon-day in heaven.' Next
moment he went whirling away to the sky, and
landed on the moon, where you can still see him
with his load of sticks on his back at full moon."
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_55' name='Page_55'>[55]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Can I see him now, sister?" asked Harry.</p>
<p>"Not to-night," she replied, "because there is
only a quarter moon. But perhaps you can see
the face of the woman in the moon, if you look
very carefully. See her sharp chin and pointed
nose and shaggy eyebrows."</p>
<p>"Why, is there a woman in the moon, too?"
asked Harry, as he looked intently at the moon,
trying to see all his sister had pointed out, but
having to rely largely upon his imagination.</p>
<h3 class="notop"> THE WOMAN IN THE MOON. </h3>
<p>"I have heard a story of an old woman who
was sent to the moon."</p>
<p>"Why, what had she done?" asked Harry.</p>
<p>"She was very unhappy while on earth, because
she could not tell when the world would come to
an end; that is, when it would get old and dead
like the moon, so that no one could live on it any
longer. For this she was sent to the moon. She
has been weaving a forehead strap ever since.
Once a month she stirs a kettle of boiling hominy,
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_56' name='Page_56'>[56]</SPAN></span>
and her cat sits beside her unraveling her net. So
she keeps on weaving and weaving, and the cat
unravels her work as soon as it is done. This
must continue to the end of time, for never till
then will her work be finished."</p>
<p>"Poor old woman!" said Harry; "I wonder she
does not hide her work from the cat, or send the
cat away. But then, that is only a story. Can
you tell me another?"</p>
<p>"Do you never tire of stories?" asked Mary,
smiling.</p>
<p>"Never, when you tell them to me, sister. And
you seem to know such a lot of them."</p>
<p>"But these stories are only fairy-tales," said
Mary, laughing; "these moon-stories, I mean."</p>
<p>"I don't mind," said Harry roguishly; "we
must have a little make-up story now and then,
or I would get tired. Do you make them all up
yourself, sister?"</p>
<p>"No, indeed," said Mary. "I find them here
and there and everywhere; sometimes right in
the middle of a big book on astronomy, or in the
corner of an old newspaper, or hidden away in
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_57' name='Page_57'>[57]</SPAN></span>
a book covered with dust on the top shelf in the
library."</p>
<p>"Where did you find that story about the old
woman and the cat?"</p>
<p>"In a book of Indian legends, and the story is
told by the Iroquois Indians. Here is another
one I found. Would you like to hear it?"</p>
<p>"You know I would, dear," said Harry,
nestling closer to his sister, as she clasped his
hand in hers.</p>
<h3 class="notop"> THE TOAD IN THE MOON. </h3>
<p>"Once upon a time a little wolf fell very much
in love with a toad, and went a-wooing one night.
Just like the frog, 'he would a-wooing go.' You
remember, Harry, don't you?"</p>
<p>"'Whether his mother would let him or no,'"
continued Harry; "of course I remember all
about him. So the wolf went after the toad
and——"</p>
<p>"He prayed that the moon would light him on
his way," continued Mary; "and his prayer was
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_58' name='Page_58'>[58]</SPAN></span>
heard. By the clear light of the full moon he
ran after the toad, and he nearly caught her,
when, what do you think happened?"</p>
<p>"Oh, go on, sister; tell me quickly!" said
Harry excitedly.</p>
<p>"Why, the toad jumped right onto the face of
the moon, and, turning round to the wolf, said:
'How's that, Mr. Wolf?' And she is laughing at
the wolf to this day."</p>
<p>"That was a clever little toad," said Harry,
laughing; "and how vexed Mr. Wolf must have
been! Are there any more people on the moon—I
mean story people?"</p>
<p>"Yes, there is one we read about in the legend
of Hiawatha. Don't you remember how Nokomis
tells about a warrior</p>
<div class='poetry-container'>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<p>"'... Who very angry</p>
<p>Seized his grandmother, and threw her</p>
<p>Up into the sky at midnight,</p>
<p>Right against the moon he threw her:</p>
<p>'Tis her body that you see there.'"</p>
</div>
</div></div>
<p>"Do you think he meant the black marks you
can see all over the moon, sister?"
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_59' name='Page_59'>[59]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter p6">
<ANTIMG src="images/i-058.jpg" width-obs="407" height-obs="600" alt="EARTH AS SEEN FROM THE MOON." />
<p class="caption">EARTH AS SEEN FROM THE MOON.</p>
</div>
<h3> SCENERY ON THE MOON. </h3>
<p>"Very likely," replied Mary; "and perhaps you
would like me to tell you what those black marks
are. They are enormous plains and gloomy
caverns on the moon. A long time ago, perhaps,
these plains were bays and seas. At least, a great
astronomer named Galileo thought they were, and
he gave them such pretty names—the Sea of
Serenity, the Bay of Dreams, the Ocean of Storms.
But he lived in the days before it was known that
there is not any water on the surface of the moon.
Then the caverns on the moon may once have
been volcanoes pouring forth hot lava and ashes,
just as the active volcanoes on the earth. But the
volcanoes in the moon have gone out. They are
now like huge dark caverns, some of them more
than fifty miles across. One is three miles deep,
and it is named Tycho, after a great astronomer of
olden times.</p>
<p>"Then there are mountains on the moon just
like the mountains on earth, and quite as high.
In walking over the moon you would find it very
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_61' name='Page_61'>[61]</SPAN></span>
rough and uneven, but you would not mind this
very much, as you would weigh so much less.
Just think, Harry, you would weigh only one-sixth
as much as you do here."</p>
<p>"And what would Uncle Robert weigh?" asked
Harry, with a gleam of mischief in his eye.</p>
<div class="figcenter p6">
<ANTIMG src="images/i-060.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="257" alt="PLANET EARTH AND THE MOON." />
<p class="caption">PLANET EARTH AND THE MOON.</p>
</div>
<p>"He would only weigh forty pounds," said Mary,
laughing; "and if he played football on the moon,
a good kick would send the ball six times as far
away as here. Supposing we were on the moon
now, you could throw a stone at Uncle Robert's
house on the other side of the grounds, six hundred
yards away, and hit one of the windows."</p>
<p>"I expect Uncle Robert may be glad then we
are not on the moon," said Harry, laughing;
"because I am afraid I should be throwing stones
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_62' name='Page_62'>[62]</SPAN></span>
at the windows all the time. I can see the windows
plainly from here. There is a light in the
library."</p>
<p>"Then it must be very late," said Mary, looking
over at the house; "because uncle said he would
not be home till nine o'clock. So I can only tell
you one more little story about the moon, and
then I must let you go to sleep. This story is
told by the Hindoo people, and gives the reason
why the moon shines with such a soft, silvery
light."</p>
<h3 class="notop"> THE HINDOO LEGEND. </h3>
<p>"The Sun, the Moon, and the Wind had been
invited to dinner one day by their uncle and aunt,
Thunder and Lightning. Their mother (one of
the most distant stars you see far up in the sky)
waited patiently at home for the return of her
children. Sad to relate, the Sun and Wind were
both greedy and selfish, and, while enjoying the
good feast, forgot all about their poor hungry
mother at home.</p>
<p>"But the gentle Moon did not forget, and whenever
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_63' name='Page_63'>[63]</SPAN></span>
a dainty dish was placed before her she
would put part of it aside for the Star who waited
so patiently at home. When the Sun, Moon, and
Wind returned home, the Star, who had kept her
bright little eye open all night long, said:</p>
<p>"'Dear children, have you brought anything
home for me?'</p>
<p>"Then the Sun, who was the oldest, said: 'I
have brought nothing home for you. I went out
to enjoy myself with my friends, not to get a
dinner for my mother.'</p>
<p>"And the Wind said: 'Neither have I brought
home anything for you, mother. You could
scarcely expect me to think of you when I merely
went out for my own pleasure.'</p>
<p>"But the gentle Moon said: 'Mother, see all
the good things I saved for you,' and she placed
a choice dinner before her mother.</p>
<p>"Then the Star turned to the Sun, and said:
'Because you went out to amuse yourself with
your friends, without any thought of your poor,
lonely mother at home, you shall be cursed.
Henceforth your rays shall be ever hot and
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_64' name='Page_64'>[64]</SPAN></span>
scorching. They shall burn all they touch, and
men shall hate you and cover their heads when
you appear.' That is why the sun is so hot to
this day.</p>
<p>"Then she turned to the Wind and said: 'You
also, who forgot your mother while you were enjoying
yourself, shall be punished. You shall
always blow during the hot, dry weather, and
shall parch and shrivel all living things. Men
shall detest and avoid you from this time till the
end of the world.' That is why the wind is so
disagreeable during the hot weather.</p>
<p>"But to the gentle Moon she said: 'Daughter,
because you remembered your hungry mother at
home, you shall be cool, calm, and bright. No
dazzling glare will accompany your pure rays,
and men will call you "blessed."' That is why
the moon's light is so soothing and beautiful."</p>
<p>"Is that all?" asked Harry, as his sister
finished the story.</p>
<p>"That is all," said Mary; "but here is a little
good-night lullaby by Eugene Field, and then
you must go to sleep:
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_65' name='Page_65'>[65]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='poetry-container'>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<p>"'In through the window a moonbeam comes,</p>
<p>Little gold moonbeam with misty wings,</p>
<p>All silently creeping, he asks, "Are you sleeping,</p>
<p>Sleeping and dreaming, while the pretty stars sing?"'"</p>
</div>
</div>
<SPAN id='P65' name='P65'></SPAN></div>
<h3 class="notop"> THE NEW MOON. </h3>
<p class="center">
BY MRS. FOLLEN.</p>
<div class='poetry-container'>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<p class="i2">Dear mother, how pretty</p>
<p class="i2">The moon looks to-night!</p>
<p>She was never so cunning before;</p>
<p class="i2">Her two little horns</p>
<p class="i2">Are so sharp and bright,</p>
<p>I hope she'll not grow any more.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="i2">If I were up there,</p>
<p class="i2">With you and my friends,</p>
<p>I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see;</p>
<p class="i2">I'd sit in the middle</p>
<p class="i2">And hold by both ends;</p>
<p>Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be!</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="i2">I would call to the stars</p>
<p class="i2">To keep out of the way</p>
<p>Lest we should rock over their toes;</p>
<p class="i2">And then I would rock</p>
<p class="i2">Till the dawn of the day,</p>
<p>And see where the pretty moon goes.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="i2">And there we would stay</p>
<p class="i2">In the beautiful skies,</p>
<p>And through the bright clouds we would roam;</p>
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_66' name='Page_66'>[66]</SPAN></span>
<p class="i2">We would see the sun set,</p>
<p class="i2">And see the sun rise,</p>
<p>And on the next rainbow come home.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p><span class="flright">—<i>Taken from Child-Life, edited by Whittier.</i></span></p>
</div>
</div></div>
<div class="figcenter p6">
<ANTIMG src="images/i-065.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="445" alt="THE NEW MOON." />
<SPAN id='P66' name='P66'></SPAN></div>
<h3> LADY MOON. </h3>
<p class="center">
BY LORD HOUGHTON.</p>
<div class='poetry-container'>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<p>Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?</p>
<p class="i4">Over the sea.</p>
<p>Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?</p>
<p class="i4">All that love me.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p>Are you not tired with rolling, and never</p>
<p class="i4">Resting to sleep?</p>
<p>Why look so pale and so sad, as forever</p>
<p class="i4">Wishing to weep?</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p>Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;</p>
<p class="i4">You are too bold;</p>
<p>I must obey my dear Father above me,</p>
<p class="i4">And do as I'm told.</p>
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_67' name='Page_67'>[67]</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<p>Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?</p>
<p class="i4">Over the sea.</p>
<p>Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?</p>
<p class="i4">All that love me.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p><span class="flright">—<i>Taken from Child-Life, edited by Whittier.</i></span></p>
</div>
</div>
<SPAN id='P67' name='P67'></SPAN></div>
<h3> A LEGEND. </h3>
<div class='poetry-container'>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<p>A moonbeam once fell on the bell of a flower,</p>
<p class="i1">Way down by a silvery rill;</p>
<p>'Twas cradled to sleep in a rapturous hour,</p>
<p class="i1">When all the green forest was still.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p>That flower, when golden and glad was the morning,</p>
<p class="i1">Was shriveled and wilted and thin;</p>
<p>But on the next night, all its chalice adorning,</p>
<p class="i1">The moonbeam still lingered within.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p>Since then has the flower been tender and creamy,</p>
<p class="i1">Wherever its petals have blown,</p>
<p>All fragile and pearly and dainty and dreamy</p>
<p class="i1">Is the night-blooming cereus known.</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p><span class="flright">—<i>Taken from the New York Tribune.</i></span></p>
</div>
</div></div>
<p><span class='pagenum'><SPAN id='Page_68' name='Page_68'>[68]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
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