Part 2

"You see, dollie wants to know all about Giant Sun, too," Nellie gravely informed Mary. "I never could remember all, and she might remember what I forget. Besides, she must learn some day. That is what mamma said about me. I heard her," Nellie continued wisely, as she looked up at Mary. "Do you mind telling me about the sky-people too?"

"Mind? Why you little bit of a doll baby," laughed Mary, as she picked her up, doll and all, and hugged her, "if you and dollie promise not to go to sleep, you can stay here as long as you want to. But does Aunt Agnes know you are here, Nellie; or have you run away from home?"

"No, I have not run away," said Nellie earnestly, "but my dollie has. Nurse brought me over here, but she did not know my dollie was here. I forgot all about her yesterday, while Harry was telling me about Giant Sun, and I left her out on the grass. But she didn't melt a bit. I knew you wouldn't, dear little dollie, would you? Now, dollie, sit up straight, and listen to Cousin Mary talk. My, how she can talk, too! Can't you?"

"I'll try," said Mary, laughing. "So you want to hear about Giant Sun and his family. He has such a large family, and he has to give them all plenty of light and heat. If he put out his big lamp in the sky, it would be always dark here, and we would shiver with cold and die. When I come to your room at night, Harry, to say good-night, I always carry a lamp in my hand so that I can see you; but supposing a puff of wind blew it out, then I could not see you at all.

"Now this light is not only for us, but for the rest of the sun's family as well. First, there is little Mercury, who was named after the god of thieves; and he deserves this name, because he steals more light and heat from the sun than any of the other planets."

WHAT IS A PLANET?

"What is a planet?" asked Harry.

"A planet is just like this earth we are living on, and only shines with the light it borrows from the sun. If we lived on planet Mercury, and could look at our earth, we would see it shining like a bright star in the sky; but all the light comes from the sun."

"Do we live on a star, then?" asked Nellie, her little eyes wide open with amazement.

"No; we live on a planet. We could not live on a star, as a star is blazing hot. That is the difference between a star and a planet. A star is hot and bright and shining and gives light to the planets, if it has any. Planets are little globes like the earth that circle around the sun."

"Then the sun must be a star," said Harry, "as you told me yesterday that it is very hot."

"That is right," said Mary; "and every star in the sky is a sun."

"And has lots of weensy-teensy planets going all around it?" asked Nellie excitedly.

STORY OF PLANET MERCURY.

"Some of them have, I am sure," said Mary. "But now we are running along too fast, and I must tell you about our own sun first, and its nearest planet Mercury. Well, Mercury is a very warm little world, and it gets so near the sun that sometimes it is about nine times as warm as here, and at other times it is only four times as warm. You see, Mercury does not go round the sun in a perfect circle, so at times it is farther away than at others. Now, the sun is like a great fire in the sky, and the nearer we go to it the warmer we are. How would you like to live on a little world where it is nine times warmer than it is here?"

"I should not like it at all, would you, dollie?" said Nellie; "we would roast if we went to world Mercury."

"But we don't know whether there are any people there," continued Mary, "and if there are, they might not mind the heat at all. You can get used to the heat, just as Uncle Robert did when he went to India. Don't you remember how he felt the change when he came home, and how he shivered? He missed the heat just as we would suffer from it if we went to India for the first time."

"Then Uncle Robert would not mind going to Mercury," said Harry, laughing, "if he is getting to like the heat in India. But I do not want him to go yet, as he might never come back again; and what would we do without him?"

"What would we?" said Nellie mournfully, her eyes filling with tears at the very thought.

"Is a planet made of earth and stones and trees and flowers, just like planet Earth?" asked Harry.

"Yes, dear," replied his sister; "only some planets, like Jupiter and Saturn, are still wrapped up in a blanket of clouds and steam, and we cannot see them yet. They are very hot indeed, and all the water that will make the oceans and seas and bays is now steam and clouds hiding the true planet from view. Water could no more rest on the surface of the planets Jupiter and Saturn than it could rest on red-hot iron. Don't you remember, the other day, when nurse upset a cup of water on the hot stove, how the water sizzled and turned into steam in a moment?

"Now planet earth, a long time ago, when it was a very young world, was very hot like Jupiter. All the lakes and seas and oceans were turned into steam and blankets of cloud. It would have been a very uncomfortable world to live on then. But it became cooler and cooler, and the clouds changed into the oceans and seas and lakes that make our earth so beautiful.

"Some day this little world will grow old, and the oceans will get smaller and smaller, and the earth colder and colder. Then there will be scarcely any air to breathe, and we would gasp, and die just like that poor fish that Uncle Robert caught last week and threw in the bottom of the boat. Don't you remember, Nellie, how the poor little thing gasped and jumped around? It could not live out of the water, so it died. Now, we cannot live without air, and if this earth had not any air we would die. But this will not happen for a very long time."

"Are you quite sure?" asked Harry, with an anxious look on his face; "because I don't want to die yet, sister."

"Quite sure, my little brother," she said, kissing him tenderly; "for hundreds and hundreds of years must pass away before anyone will have any idea that the earth is growing old."

"And what will become of the poor little fishes when the oceans dry up?" asked Nellie sadly, as she clasped her dollie closely in her arms, as though to protect it from the coming trouble.

"I expect they will all die," said Harry wisely; "because you know, Nellie, they can't live out of water. Can they?"

"Or else that fish Uncle Robert caught would have lived," said Nellie. "But please tell us a story about Mercury, Cousin Mary, and the other little planets."

"Well, Mercury is a very little planet, and instead of taking a year of three hundred and sixty-five days, it goes around the sun in eighty-eight days. That is, it goes round the sun four times while we go round it only once. Some think Mercury always keeps the same side turned to the sun, so that it is always day on one side and night on the other, but we are not quite sure about this yet."

"I should like to live on Mercury, wouldn't you, Harry?" said Nellie, clapping her hands with glee. "Just think of day all the time, and never having to go to sleep!"

"But you would get very tired of that," said Mary, "and long for the night to come. And, besides, would you not miss seeing the moon and the beautiful stars?"

"I would live on the edge of Mercury," said Harry thoughtfully, "so that when I was tired of day I might slip around it and have night. It must be very cold on the other side, where the sun does not shine, if Mercury gets all its heat from the sun."

"I suspect it is," said Mary, "and I don't believe we should like to live on Mercury, after all; so let us try the next planet, which is called Venus."

STORY OF PLANET VENUS.

"What a pretty name," said Nellie; "and is Venus very warm, like Mercury?"

"It is not so near to the sun," replied Mary, "but it is about twice as warm and bright as our planet. Venus is nearly as large as the earth, and sometimes she is called her twin sister.

"Like Mercury, she may probably always turn the same face to the sun, and get baked on one side and frozen on the other. She looks like a beautiful silver globe in the sky. Sometimes we see her early in the morning as a morning star, or just about twilight as an evening star. Like Mercury and the earth, she borrows all her light from the sun. We only see her because the sun is shining on her. Next to Venus is our own planet, earth, and around it circles the moon, but I must tell you about that another time."

ESTELLE'S ASTRONOMY.

BY DELIA HART STONE.

Our little Estelle Was perplexed when she found That this wonderful world That we live on is round.

How 'tis held in its place In its orbit so true Was a puzzle to her, With no answer in view.

"It must be," said Estelle, "Like a ball in the air That is hung by a string; But the string isn't there!"

--St. Nicholas, March, 1896.

VENUS.

Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet.

--Milton.

THE EVENING STAR.

Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, Like a fair lady at her casement, shines The evening star, the star of love and rest! And then anon she doth herself divest Of all her radiant garments, and reclines Behind the somber screen of yonder pines, With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed.

O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! My morning and my evening star of love! My best and gentlest lady! even thus, As that fair planet in the sky above, Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night, And from thy darkened window fades the light.

--Longfellow.

MERCURY.

First, Mercury, amid full tides of light, Rolls next the sun, through his small circle bright; Our earth would blaze beneath so fierce a ray, And all its marble mountains melt away. Fair Venus next fulfills her larger round, With softer beams and milder glory crowned; Friend to mankind, she glitters from afar, Now the bright evening, now the morning star.

--Baker.

A RAMBLE ON THE MOON.

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."

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.

"We shall go to the moon this evening," she began, "and find out what a queer old world it is."

"Old?" asked Harry; "why do you call it 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?"

"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."

"What makes it so bright, then, if it is so old?" asked Harry, as he looked curiously at the moon.

"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."

"Do you think there are people on the moon?" asked Harry excitedly.

"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."

"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."

"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 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."

"Just like the prince in the fairy tale who put on a little cap and no one could see him," said Harry.

"Yes; that prince would not need the cap on the moon. If he did not want anyone to know 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."

"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?"

"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."

"Like the deaf-and-dumb people?" asked Harry.

"If he could understand it," said Mary; "but then, we know there is really not any Man in the Moon."

"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."

THE MAN IN THE MOON.

"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:

"'What are you picking up sticks for on Sunday?'

"'It does not matter to me whether it is Sunday or Monday,' replied the man roughly. 'I pick up sticks when I want to.'

"'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."

"Can I see him now, sister?" asked Harry.

"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."

"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.

THE WOMAN IN THE MOON.

"I have heard a story of an old woman who was sent to the moon."

"Why, what had she done?" asked Harry.

"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, 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."

"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?"

"Do you never tire of stories?" asked Mary, smiling.

"Never, when you tell them to me, sister. And you seem to know such a lot of them."

"But these stories are only fairy-tales," said Mary, laughing; "these moon-stories, I mean."

"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?"

"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 a book covered with dust on the top shelf in the library."

"Where did you find that story about the old woman and the cat?"

"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?"

"You know I would, dear," said Harry, nestling closer to his sister, as she clasped his hand in hers.

THE TOAD IN THE MOON.

"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?"

"'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----"

"He prayed that the moon would light him on his way," continued Mary; "and his prayer was 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?"

"Oh, go on, sister; tell me quickly!" said Harry excitedly.

"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."

"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?"

"Yes, there is one we read about in the legend of Hiawatha. Don't you remember how Nokomis tells about a warrior

"'... Who very angry Seized his grandmother, and threw her Up into the sky at midnight, Right against the moon he threw her: 'Tis her body that you see there.'"

"Do you think he meant the black marks you can see all over the moon, sister?"

SCENERY ON THE MOON.

"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.

"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 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."

"And what would Uncle Robert weigh?" asked Harry, with a gleam of mischief in his eye.

"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."

"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 at the windows all the time. I can see the windows plainly from here. There is a light in the library."

"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."

THE HINDOO LEGEND.

"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.

"But the gentle Moon did not forget, and whenever 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:

"'Dear children, have you brought anything home for me?'

"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.'

"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.'

"But the gentle Moon said: 'Mother, see all the good things I saved for you,' and she placed a choice dinner before her mother.

"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 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.

"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.

"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."

"Is that all?" asked Harry, as his sister finished the story.

"That is all," said Mary; "but here is a little good-night lullaby by Eugene Field, and then you must go to sleep:

"'In through the window a moonbeam comes, Little gold moonbeam with misty wings, All silently creeping, he asks, "Are you sleeping, Sleeping and dreaming, while the pretty stars sing?"'"

THE NEW MOON.

BY MRS. FOLLEN.

Dear mother, how pretty The moon looks to-night! She was never so cunning before; Her two little horns Are so sharp and bright, I hope she'll not grow any more.

If I were up there, With you and my friends, I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see; I'd sit in the middle And hold by both ends; Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be!

I would call to the stars To keep out of the way Lest we should rock over their toes; And then I would rock Till the dawn of the day, And see where the pretty moon goes.