Part 9

"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."