“I suppose you ought to know what a lady would like better than a great clumsy fellow like me,” the Gentle Giant mused. Then he said suddenly, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you will get the Moon Lady to say she’ll marry me, I’ll not drag away any more trees from the All-Alone Axe, and I’ll carry you both halfway up her mountain besides.” “We’ll try our very best,” said the children. Then the Gentle Giant set Silverboy on his right shoulder and Silvergirl on his left, and away they went to the Moon Lady’s mountain. When you ride on the shoulder of a giant who can take a quarter of a mile at a stride, even a long journey is soon done, and before they had any idea that they were halfway up the mountain, the Gentle Giant whispered as softly as he could:-- “Here you are, little folk. Just go up the mountain, and you’ll be at her house in no time.” “Come with us,” the children pleaded, for it seemed very lonesome to be left in the forest without the good-natured giant. But he shook his head and whispered so gently that it was not much louder than a waterfall:-- “I don’t dare. She might look right at me and laugh and ask what I had come for, and then I should feel so ashamed. You go on, and if she only says she will marry me, tie a burning torch to the pine tree at the top of the mountain, and I’ll come and get you all and carry you wherever you wish.” And before the children could say another word, they heard his steps crashing down through the trees. They went on and on toward the top of the mountain, and just as the sun was setting, they began to see something shining through the trees. It looked like glass and cream candy and rainbows, like brooks in the sunshine and quiet pools in the moonlight. It flashed and glowed and gleamed and sparkled. When they came nearer, they saw that it was a splendid palace, and looking out of one of the windows was the most beautiful lady that they had ever seen. She was laughing more musically than they had ever heard any one laugh before. The sound was like that made by little brooks rippling over stones, or little waves running up on the shore. When she caught sight of the children, she called:-- “Come in, you little dears. I’ll meet you at the door.” She disappeared from the window, but they could hear her laughing happily as she tripped though the halls. In a minute she stood in the doorway, holding out her hands to them. She wore a silken gown almost as yellow as the sunshine. Her hair, too, was yellow and hung down to the ground in long ripples that gleamed and shimmered as the sunbeams touched them. On her head was a golden crescent, and above it was just one golden star. The children stood gazing at her, for in all their lives they had never seen any one half so lovely. “Well, what is it?” she called lightly. “Am I so ugly? You stand there gazing at me as if I were a monster.”