"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."