The poets, with their magic words, make the stars seem close to us, despite the fact that science tells us that the Pleiades, for instance, lie so far away in space that it takes 200 years for their light to reach the earth. Since December, when Orion and Taurus are at their best, is the month of beautiful stars, let us look around the heavens and see how many of them we are able to recognize. From the far northeast to the far northwest, passing just a little north of the zenith, the Milky Way stretches in one continuous line of splendor. Up and down the heavenly vault, hundreds of diamond-like little stars glitter like gleams from pinholes in heaven, while the large stars hang down through the cold, black nights almost within reaching distance. One may now count ten brilliant stars of the first magnitude, but the configuration of stars which forms the constellation of Orion and the peerless Dog Star, Sirius, are the stars which hold the eye. Watch the Dog Star rise in the east about 9 o'clock during the first part of December or about 8 o'clock later in the month. If all the other stars burn like wind-enflamed jewels, Sirius sputters and sparkles like a bonfire of Jupiter's lightning rods. Across the Milky Way from Sirius, the yellow star Procyon, the head-star on the Little Dog, is also appearing, while in the west, two large stars are setting, the scene being almost duplicated. Thus, paraphrasing the words of the ancient poet Aratus, "when the Dogs appear in the east, the Birds set in the west." Above Procyon, and on the same side of the Milky Way, shine Castor and Pollux, the Heavenly Twins, seemingly with an eye on the battle of the Giant and the red-eyed Bull; above the Bull's horns glows Capella, always an attractive star but not as radiant when near the meridian as when rising in the east. This is also true of Cassiopeia's Chair, now in the zenith, and of the Segment of Perseus, the Chain of Andromeda and the Square of Pegasus, which lie just below her. [Figure 125: The December Sky.] The Cross is now descending in the west, closely following Vega and Altair, while low in the southwest, Formalhaut is just about to disappear below our view. The North Star shines, as always, in its fixed place in the sky, but Ursa Minor now hangs perilously by the tip of his tail with nothing between him and the northern horizon but the straggling form of Draco and the brightly decorated tail of Ursa Major. Ursa Major is just about ready to climb the eastern slope and patiently continue on his endless circle around the pole. Along the southern horizon, the stars are faint, for here lies Cetus, the dark-sided Sea-monster, and the glints on the river Eridanus which rolls down to the 'Sea.' CASTOR AND POLLUX [Figure 126]