Finally, we come to the great dragon of the sky. In using the map of Draco and the neighboring constellations, the reader is supposed to face the north. The center of the upper edge of the map is directly over the observer's head. One of the stories told of this large constellation is that it represents a dragon that had the temerity to war against Minerva. The goddess "seized it in her hand, and hurled it, twisted as it was, into the heavens round the axis of the world, before it had time to unwind its contortions." Others say it is the dragon that guarded the golden apples in the Garden of the Hesperides, and that was slain by the redoubtable Hercules. At any rate, it is plainly a monster of the first magnitude. The stars [beta], [gamma], [xi], [nu], and [mu] represent its head, while its body runs trailing along, first sweeping in a long curve toward Cepheus, and then bending around and passing between the two bears. Try [nu] with your opera-glass, and if you succeed in seeing it double you may congratulate yourself on your keen sight. The distance between the stars is about 1'. Notice the contrasted colors of [gamma] and [beta], the former being a rich orange and the latter white. As you sweep along the winding way that Draco follows, you will run across many striking fields of stars, although the heavens are not as rich here as in the splendid regions that we have just left. You will also find that Cepheus, although not an attractive constellation to the naked eye, is worth some attention with an opera-glass. The head and upper part of the body of Cepheus are plunged in the stream of the Milky Way, while his feet are directed toward the pole of the heavens, upon which he is pictured as standing. Cepheus, however, sinks into insignificance in comparison with its neighbor Cassiopeia, but that constellation belongs rather to the autumn sky, and we shall pass it by here. CHAPTER III. THE STARS OF AUTUMN. IN the "Fifth Evening" of that delightful, old, out-of-date book of Fontenelle's, on the "Plurality of Worlds," the Astronomer and the Marchioness, who have been making a wonderful pilgrimage through the heavens during their evening strolls in the park, come at last to the starry systems beyond the "solar vortex," and the Marchioness experiences a lively impatience to know what the fixed stars will turn out to be, for the Astronomer has sharpened her appetite for marvels. "Tell me," says she, eagerly, "are they, too, inhabited like the planets, or are they not peopled? In short, what can we make of them?" The Astronomer answers his charming questioner, as we should do to-day, that the fixed stars are so many suns. And he adds to this information a great deal of entertaining talk about the planets that may be supposed to circle around these distant suns, interspersing his conversation with explanations of "vortexes," and many quaint conceits, in which he is helped out by the ready wit of the Marchioness.