"There's been such a fuss, such a storm has been brewed, There's no cups for the tea, and no plates for the food; The cleverest doctor may puzzle his wits, But he never can gather and rivet the bits!" MONICA THE MOON CHILD I THIS SIDE OF THE MOON It was one of those late afternoons in winter when the countryside looks very white, very still, and hushed to sleep under its coverlet of snow--just the time when the bright fire at home is thought of with delightful longing. The gentleman who drove the phaeton that was bowling along the frosty road must have thought so too, for he cracked his whip so smartly that it sounded loud in the silent landscape, startling the cob to a more hurried remembrance of his snug stable. "Not very far now, Doctor," he remarked to the friend who sat next to him. "Home soon, Toodleums," he added, turning towards a big bundle of shawls at the back of the carriage. "I'm in no hurry, Papa," replied a childish voice; "I call this lovely!" "Quite warm, eh?" "Quite, thank you, Papa." The bundle, answering to the name of Toodleums, was Monica--her father's constant companion. She was an only child. Her mother had always been delicate, and Monica was not allowed to be much with her. She even forgot that the invalid at home was ailing rather more than usual to-day, and that their long drive was to fetch her old friend the Doctor for his opinion, for she was listening with so much interest to an explanation which her father was giving of the new airship he had invented. He was still describing his successful trial trip, when Monica noticed that the moon and stars seemed to have assembled all at once to make a night of it. Never before had she driven out after dark, and soon she became all absorbed, in a state of muffled-up rapture, at the unusual sights and aspect of mystery about. "Hi! Toodleums, do you hear? What do you say to going up with me in my airship next time I go? Will you come?" "Yes, yes," she answered eagerly; "I'll come, Papa." "You're not afraid of bumping up against the moon?" asked the doctor playfully, leaning over to pat her cheek. And both gentlemen laughed. Monica didn't answer. She didn't know if she was being made fun of or not. At last they were in the hall at home, amidst the lights and bustling of the servants. As no one seemed to notice her, Monica took herself up to the nursery. She had dressed there near the fire, and the boxes and things had not been tidied away. Monica stared around, thinking this very unusual, and was just beginning to feel uncomfortably lonely when a little wrinkled old woman with very bright eyes hurriedly trotted in. "Oh, Grandnurse," exclaimed Monica, "no one is looking after me. How's Mamma?"