"Oh!" cried Brighteyes. "How delightful! how perfectly delightful! and are you really true, or am I only dreaming you? and what is your name? and may I call Nibble?"

"One thing at a time!" I replied. "I certainly am true, as true as moonshine. As for dreaming me, why, that depends on what you call dreaming, you know. And as for my name—humph! can you pronounce Bmfkmgth, for example? that is the name of my dog, and it is a good name, too."

"No!" said Brighteyes. "I certainly cannot. It sounds like sneezing and barking and whistling all at once."

"Exactly!" I replied. "That is the language of the dog-star. But my name is very much harder than that, so there really would be no use in my telling it to you. There are twenty-four j's in it, and seventeen g's, so you may imagine that it is difficult. The other children call me Mr. Moonman, and you may as well do so too. As for Nibble," I continued, "if he sleeps in this little room close by, it is an easy matter to call him. Whisk, just ask that boy's bed if it will please step in here, will you?" The good beam did his errand quickly, and in another moment the two beds stood side by side, and shook castors in a very friendly manner. Nibble, who was as fast asleep as heart could desire, was very much astonished as Brighteyes introduced him to me, and told him all the wonderful things she had heard.

"But how did you get down here?" he asked. "Did you come on a falling star?"

"No!" I replied. "I always ride on my own beams, which are much more manageable, and swifter as well. Why, I can go round the world in two whisks of a comet's tail."

"Oh! oh!" cried Nibble. "Mr. Moonman, don't you think you could let me ride on one some time? I can ride very well, indeed I can! Uncle Jack lets me ride Castor sometimes, and even José; never can get me off, unless he lies down and rolls! oh! please let me ride on a moonbeam! it would be so jolly!"

"Jolly enough, but not quite safe enough, my young friend!" said I. "It is very easy to ride on a moonbeam when one knows how, but very different when one does not. There are, however, other ways of getting about. A nice little cloud is what you want." I looked out of the window, but not a cloud was to be seen in the sky.

"Oh dear!" said the mice. "We should so like to have a ride, Mr. Moonman. Couldn't you take us on your moonbeam? we would sit very still, and not say a word!"

"And you shall have a ride," I said; "but not on Whisk. Run now to your uncle's bureau, and bring me from the top drawer two of his largest silk handkerchiefs." Yes, that was soon done. "Now 'Whisk,'" said I, "there must be some little Winds about here with nothing special to do. See if you cannot find some who are willing to give these mice a ride."

Off went Whisk through the window, and back he came in a moment with seven merry little Winds, all ready for a frolic.

They had sung all the birds and all the flowers to sleep, they said, and had been sitting under a tree, whistling for something to do, and now nothing would give them greater pleasure than to blow the two little heavy ones (for I am sorry to tell you, children, that you are all known by that name among the lively spirits of the air,) wherever they liked to go.

"That is well then," said I. "And where will you go, you two mice?"

"To China!" said Nibble.

"Oh! yes, to China!" cried Brighteyes. "Then we can see Pun-Chin, the naughty boy you spoke of, and you can tell us more about him as we go along!"

"Yes! yes! to China," said Nibble, again; and he began to dance wildly around the room, as if nothing would stop him. At last the two mice were ready for their long journey through the air.

"China it is then!" I said. "Spread the handkerchiefs out on the window-sill. That's right! Now sit down on them—so! now, little Winds, blow steadily and off we go!"

Ah! that was a ride worth taking, you may believe. Away through the soft May night, over the tree-tops, over the hill-tops, the two mice, half frightened, half delighted, sitting cross-legged on their handkerchiefs, like two little Turks, and the merry little Winds puffing away with might and main, while Whisk and I led the way, and lighted it too. Yes, it was a pretty sight, had there been any one there to see it. But if you had been there yourself, you would only have said "See those two great white owls! how fast they fly."

Now we came to the sea. Hundreds of my beams were there sparkling over the shining water, and playing with the little waves, which put up their faces, each in its white nightcap, and laughed and danced merrily. They called to the seven Winds and said:

"Come down and play with us!"

But the Winds said "No! no! we have work to do now. We can be very steady fellows when we choose, though you might not think it."

And they puffed away bravely, to the great relief of Nibble and Brighteyes, who had been wondering what would become of them if the merry Winds should take a fancy to play with the waves.

Now they began to sing, the seven Winds, and the waves answered them as they leaped and danced. And this is the song they sang:

"That is charming!" said Brighteyes. "Dear little Winds, how sweetly you sing! and how strange that we have never heard you before."

"Look!" cried Nibble. "What is that, that shines so over yonder? is it a sail?"

Yes, it was a sail, and as we came nearer we saw a stately ship, sailing slowly along. All her crew seemed to be asleep, except one man, who was pacing up and down the deck.

He looked up as we passed, and cried "Hi! albatrosses! how queerly they are flying! wake up, shipmate, and look at those birds!"

But before any of the sailors were awake, we were flying far away, while the Winds and the Waves sang together:

"Oh! is it really?" asked Nibble. "I wish I had some! this flying makes one hungry."

But here now was the land again. We bade farewell to the merry Waves, and flew along over the sleeping country. The lights of a great city lay before us.

"Let us fly lower," said Brighteyes, "and then we can peep into some of the windows and see the people asleep."

"That is not very safe!" I replied. "In these great cities there are plenty of people awake all night; and it would never do for us to be shot at, you know."

Just then a puff of smoke from a tall chimney came up, and got into the children's eyes and noses, so that they were glad to fly higher, where the air was pure, and fresh.

We passed over vast and gloomy forests, where the solemn pines bowed slightly as the seven Winds swept by; and over green meadows, where flocks of sheep lay huddled together, fast asleep. As we went further and further eastward, the darkness began to fade.

"In China it will be broad daylight," I said, "and Whisk and I shall fade almost out of sight; but we shall still be with you, so you need feel no alarm."

"Are we near China now?" asked Brighteyes. "And you have not told us about Pun-Chin, Mr. Moonman!"

"To be sure!" I answered. "What an excellent memory this mouse has! well, we may very likely see Pun-Chin, and then you shall judge for yourself. The last time I saw him, he had just painted his little brother bright green from head to foot, and was telling him that his father would chop him up into little bits and sow him for grass-seed. The poor little boy was very much frightened, as you may imagine. Yes, he is a bad fellow for mischief, that boy.

"But now we must fly lower," I added, "for we are over China now. Use your eyes well, my little mice, and see all that you can see, for there is no knowing when you will be here again."

The mice did use their eyes well; and indeed there were many strange things to look at. Green rice-fields, with bright streams of water flowing through them, made the country beautiful. Pagodas and temples, gaily painted, and gilded, glittered in the sun, and the queer, narrow streets were filled with people dressed in strange garments of blue, red, and yellow. They all carried large paper umbrellas covered with gay figures.

In one street we saw a boy sitting on a queer sort of gate. Three dogs were fastened to this gate by their tails, and as they leaped about in their efforts to free themselves, the gate swung to and fro, thus saving the boy the trouble of swinging himself.

Now a man came slowly along the street, reading a paper attentively, and thinking of nothing else. Just as he was passing by the gate, however, the boy made a sudden spring, and alighting on the man's shoulders, knocked him flat in the muddy street; then springing up again like a flash, he resumed his place on the gate, and looked as innocent as a lamb. But the man picked himself up slowly, and turning round, poured a torrent of angry words on the sportive youth.

"Child of perdition!" he cried, "may the Red Dragon make his next meal of thee, and use thy bones for chopsticks! my life is of no value to me, on account of thy tormentings. Am I never to be left in peace?"

The boy, smiling sweetly, was about to reply; but at that moment a woman, who was passing by, happened to look up, and caught sight of the two red silk handkerchiefs in the air, with Nibble and Brighteyes on them. Me they could not see, nor the seven Winds, but the children were plainly visible, and very funny they must have looked.

"Hop-Wang!" cried the woman. "Look up quickly, and see these strange things in the sky! it is some fearful sign from the gods, I fear."

Hop-Wang looked up, and started; but instead of being frightened, he showed every sign of delight.

"The Red Dragon! the Red Dragon!" he cried. "Do you not see the fluttering of his wings?" (Indeed, the Winds were blowing the corners of the handkerchiefs, which were almost as large as small tablecloths, in every direction, to screen the two children, so that they really did look rather like flapping wings.) "I have prayed to the Big Idol," he continued, addressing the woman, "ever since this imp of wickedness here set fire to my beautiful pig-tail and burned it off, to send one of his strong dragons to carry off my tormentor. And now my prayers are answered, and the Red Dragon, strongest of all, is here! Hokkaloo! hokkaloo!" and he danced with delight.

But his joy was shortlived. The boy, as soon as he heard the words "Red Dragon," and saw the fluttering wings, turned three somersaults in succession, and was out of sight in the twinkling of a satellite; and I, thinking that distance would lend enchantment to the view, and to be out of danger, begged the Winds to blow the handkerchiefs up a mile or so. Accordingly the bright vision receded gradually from the sight of the disappointed Chinaman, and finally vanished, leaving him very disconsolate, and once more at the mercy of his tormentor.

"Mr Moonman!" said Brighteyes, as we rose slowly through the clear air.

"Well, Mouse Brighteyes!" I said, "what is it?"

"Was that Pun-Chin?"

"That was Pun-Chin!" I replied.

"I thought so!" said Brighteyes. And she was silent for some time, thinking, perhaps, of the tail-feathers of the sixty-five parrots.

"How delightful it will be," said Nibble; "to tell Uncle Jack and the twinnies about this wonderful ride. Just think how surprised they will be!" "There is a slight difficulty about that," I replied, "which is that you will not remember in the morning a single thing that has happened to-night." "Oh! Oh!" cried both the children, "how can that be possible, Mr. Moonman? we could not forget all these wonderful things, even if we tried, and we do not want to try." "That is all very well," I replied, "but it will make no difference whether you try or not, for all will be as I say. If you had carried a sprig of the sea-flower in your hands it might have been otherwise; but I take care never to give that to children, remembering what trouble my cousin Patty once had from doing that very thing."

"Who is your cousin Patty?" asked Nibble. "Pray tell us about her." The little Winds nodded their heads.

"We know all about her!" they said. "She is the Sea Fairy, and lives in the palace which is hollowed out of a single pearl, under the Indian Ocean. There are fine things there, Father Moonman!"

"You are right!" I said, "and some night these two mice shall pay her a visit, and see for themselves. But as I was saying, she got into trouble once, by giving a sprig of the sea-flower to a little boy of whom she was very fond. I took him down to see her one night, and she gave him many beautiful things, among them a pair of diamond trousers."

"Diamond trousers!" exclaimed Nibble. "Who ever heard of such things!"

"There are many things which you have not heard of," I replied, "and one seems to be that you are not to interrupt when other people are speaking."

Nibble hung his head and was silent.

"Well, his mother hearing those cries, came in, and on hearing the child's story she thought he had gone mad, and was very anxious about him. Still he cried and screamed for his diamond trousers; but suddenly, as he raised his hand to push away the chair on which the despised brown knickerbockers lay, he dropped the sea-flower! Instantly everything about Patty and the diamond trousers passed out of his mind like a flash of lightning, and looking up at his mother, he said: 'What was I crying about, Mamma? Isn't it time to get up?' And his mother said: 'Yes, my darling, it is high time to get up, and I think you have had the nightmare, Arthur dear.'

"So you see," I continued, "that it is not at all a wise thing to give the sea-flower to little people like you. But, bless me! here we are at the Mouse-trap again. Now, my mice, creep into your nests! say good-by to the little Winds, and thank them for blowing you so far, for they must be tired."

"Oh! thank you! thank you! dear little Winds!" cried the two mice. "We have had such a glorious ride, and we are so much obliged! and thank you too, dear Mr. Moonman! will you come every night, please, and tell us more wonderful things?"

"We will see about that!" I replied. "Every night is very often, and there are many other children who look for me. But I will come soon again, I promise you. Now good night, and a pleasant waking to you!" and as Whisk and I flew upward, we heard the seven little Winds singing softly, as they swung to and fro in the grape-vine outside the nursery window:

CHAPTER VII.

A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

"Well, I suppose that is true!" said Brighteyes, who had been singing this little song as she stood by the dining-room window after breakfast, watching the rain. "I suppose it must rain some time. But I do wish it would always rain at night, Uncle Jacket. Just think how nice it would be!"

"Very nice for you," replied Uncle Jack. "But how about the owls and bats, and watchmen and cats, who have to be out all night? they might not fancy it quite so much. They might not like it," he continued, "any more than I like to have a great boy and girl stand and look out of the window, when my fire is hungry. Look at the poor thing, almost starved for want of food!"

"Hi! Brighteyes," cried Nibble. "Which will get to the wood-box first?" That was certainly a question, and it was also a question whose neck would be broken first, to judge from the way in which they rushed out of the room. But they came back safely, strange to say, Nibble in advance, with a huge stick of yellow birch nearly as large as himself, while Brighteyes followed closely with another.

"Ah!" said Uncle Jack, rubbing his hands. "Now we shall see a fire, for it is cold this morning, if it is the end of May. There," he continued, placing the logs carefully, and heaping the coals over them. "So my fire-spirit has his breakfast, as well as the rest of us. He is an excellent fellow, and should be well treated. Did you ever hear of the old woman who poked her fire-spirit till he ran away and left her?"

"No!" cried the two mice. "Please tell us about her, Uncle."

"She was a very cross old woman," said Uncle Jack. "She lived all alone, for she was so cross that nobody could live with her. She scolded her children till they went away, and she scolded her bird till it flew away, and she scolded her cat till it ran away. So there she lived all alone, with only the fire-spirit to keep her company. Now her fire-spirit was very good natured, and had borne very patiently with his mistress' ill-temper. One day, however, she came in looking and feeling particularly savage. She sat down before the fire and took up the poker. 'Ugh!' she said. 'What a miserable attempt at a fire! why don't you burn, you stupid, sulky thing?' and she gave it a vicious poke.

"How can I burn," said the fire, "when you don't give me anything to burn with? nobody can make a good blaze with only two sticks, and these two are as cross as you are, which is saying a great deal."

"You shall burn!" cried the old hag, "whether you want to or not!" and she began to poke and poke most unmercifully.

"Take care!" said the fire-spirit. "I can't stand much more of this. I am growing black in the face."

"I'll teach you to answer me!" cried the woman, poking away harder than ever. But suddenly she gave a shriek, and dropped the poker. A puff of smoke came out of the fire-place. A shower of cinders and sparks fell all over her, filling her eyes and nose and mouth; a rushing sound, like a gust of wind, followed, and the house-door was shut with a violent bang. Then all was silent. And when the old hag had wiped the cinders out of her eyes, she saw only a black cold hearth, with two cross sticks lying on it, and scowling at each other. The fire-spirit was gone; and what was more, he never came back, and the old woman had nothing to keep her warm, except her own temper.

"And now, chickens," said Uncle Jack, "run away and study your lessons, for this is our working-time, you know, and holidays are over."

"Oh dear!" said Brighteyes, "I wish we might have one more story, Uncle Jack!"

"No! no!" said Uncle Jack. "There will be plenty of time for stories to-day, for you will not be able to go out of doors. Trot, now, for I have work to do as well as you."

Nibble and Brighteyes left the room slowly, and made their way to the school-room.

"I say, Brighteyes!" said Nibble, "suppose we play we are somebody else, and then perhaps we shall like studying better."

"What do you mean, Nibble?" asked Brighteyes.

"Why," said Nibble, "I have a geography lesson to study, and you know I detest geography. But if I were to play I was Christopher Columbus, I should have to play I liked it, because he must have liked geography very much indeed, you know. So then it might be easier, don't you think so?"

"Ye-es," said Brighteyes, doubtfully. "It would be easier for geography, certainly. But I have my arithmetic to study, and nobody could ever have liked arithmetic, Nibble."

"You might be Mr. Colburn," suggested Nibble. "I suppose he must have liked it, or he would not have written so much about it."

"Well, I will try," said Brighteyes; "though I don't think Mr. Colburn is half as nice as Christopher Columbus. But if he had been very nice, he would not have written arithmetic books, so it can't be helped, I suppose."

By this time they had reached the school-room, and Nibble, sitting down by the big table and opening his atlas, began, in a loud voice: "O King of Spain, let me inform your Majesty that Alabama is bounded on the north by Tennessee, on the east by Georgia, on the"—

"But, Nibble! I Mean Christopher!" interrupted Mr. Colburn, in a piteous tone. "How can I do anything if you study out loud?"

"Oh dear!" said the great discoverer, rather impatiently. "Well, go ahead, Mr. Colburn, and write your book, while I go on a new voyage of discovery. Let us see which will finish first."

And now, seeing that the mice were settling down to their books in good earnest, I turned my attention to the nursery, where I rightly judged that I should find the three younger mice.

Well, to be sure, what fine sport they were having, those three little things! they had evidently been washing the dolls' clothes, for small clothes-lines of string were all about the room, and Downy's pinafore looked as if it had been in the tub: but now the wash was all hung out, and the mice were "playing wind," as they called it: that is to say, they were running to and fro, puffing out their little fat cheeks, and blowing at the clothes with might and main, in the hope of making them dry sooner.

"I am the North Wind!" said Puff. "Whoop! whoop!"

"I am the South Wind!" cried Fluff.

"And I'm some kind of wind, ivn't I?" asked Downy, who was blowing as hard as any of them.

"Yes, dear, you are the West Wind; whoop! whoop! whoop!" said Puff, as she pranced about.

Now presently the door opened, and Mrs. Posset came in, with her basket of stockings to mend. One of the clothes-lines was directly in her way, and the good woman stumbled over it, and knocked her head against the mantel-piece and dropped all the stockings. This she did not like, as you may imagine. "Dear me! children," she cried, "it's as much as my life is worth to enter this nursery, with all your crinkum-crankums! my stars! will you look at the strings now, all over the room, fit to break a body's neck! Whatever are you doing now, Miss Puff?"

"We washed the dolls' clothes, Possy dear," said Puff, "because they were dirty, and you said this morning dirt was a sin."

"So we couldn't have our children dirty and sinful too, you know, Possy!" cried Fluff, earnestly. "And now we are playing wind, and drying the clothes beautifully."

"Well, dears," said Mrs. Posset, resignedly, as she sat down with her mending, "'tis a very nice play, no doubt; but if you could play something that would not shake the room quite so much, the stockings would be mended sooner, that's all."

"Well, Puffy," said Fluff, "what shall we play?"

"Oh! let us play 'Five Little Princesses'!" said Puff.

"But there are only three of us!" Fluff objected. "Unless Mrs. Posset will be one, and that would only be four. Would you mind being a princess, Possy?"

"Oh! Miss Fluffy, dear, indeed I have not time, now," said the good nurse; "but you might play that one of the princesses was lame, and could not walk."

So the three mice began to walk slowly about, with their eyes shut, singing, as they went:

Here they all tumbled against each other, and pretended to cry bitterly; then starting off again, they sang:

Now is not that a pretty game? Yes, and it is quite new, so you may try it yourselves if you like. Just shut your eyes, and bump against all the chairs and tables, singing this song, and you will find yourselves very much amused. At least, the twins and Downy enjoyed it extremely, until Fluff, the unlucky, tripped over one of her own clothes-lines, and fell against the stove (which, luckily, had no fire in it,) hitting her head harder than even a lost princess could possibly care to do. For a few minutes there was sorrow and confusion among the princesses; but the offer of a story from Mrs. Posset soon calmed their royal minds, and they gathered round the good nurse's table with eager faces.

"Well, and what shall the story be about, Missies?" she asked.

"Oh! about the three little girls!" said Puff. Fluff nodded her head approvingly, and Downy said "Free ittle dirls!" in a satisfied tone. So they listened, and I listened, and my dog listened. And you may listen, too, if you like, though it is an old story, and you may have heard it before.

"Once upon a time, then," said Mrs. Posset, threading her darning-needle, and taking up one of Nibble's stockings, which was in such a condition as might have made a darning-machine turn pale, "there were three little girls, and their names were Orange and Lemon and Hold-your-tongue. And they all lived together in a little red house with a green roof, which stood in the middle of a wood. Now every morning there was the work to be done, you see. So on Monday morning Orange would get up at the break of day, so to speak, and she swept the house, and she made the fire, and she cooked the breakfast—"

"What did they have for breakfast?" asked Fluff.

"Pork chops," said Mrs. Posset. "And then she called her sisters; and when they had eaten their breakfast, they all went out and played for the rest of the day.

"Well, and on Tuesday morning Lemon got up early. And she swept the house, and she made the fire, and she cooked the breakfast—"

"What did they have that morning?" interrupted Puff.

"Cod's head and shoulder!" replied Mrs. Posset. "And then she called her sisters; and when they had eaten their breakfast, they all went out and played for the rest of the day.

"Well, my dears, as I'm telling you, on Wednesday, the third little girl—dear! dear! what was her name now? I seem to forget—"

"Hold-your-tongue!" cried Fluff, eagerly.

"Well! well!" said Mrs. Posset, pretending to be very much vexed. "To think of your having no better manners than that, Miss Fluff! telling me to hold my tongue, indeed! not another story will you get from me to-day, I promise you!"

This was a favorite joke of Mrs. Posset's, I found, and the children were never tired of it, though they knew that the little story went no further than "Hold your tongue!" They were still laughing over it, when they heard a loud scream from below, followed by a heavy fall, and a crash as of broken china. For a moment they all looked at each other in silence, startled by the shock; then Mrs. Posset put Downy off her knee, and flew down stairs, followed by the three little mice, all eager to know what had happened. Uncle Jack had heard the noise in his study, and Susan had heard it in the kitchen; in fact, the whole household was roused, and all turned their steps towards the school-room, where Nibble and Brighteyes were. Uncle Jack was the first to open the door, and when he looked into the room, he saw—see! I will draw you a picture. This is what he saw. Nibble was lying on the floor, apparently half-stunned, while near him lay the fragments of a china teapot; and all around on the floor, were scattered gold coins, large and small, hundreds and hundreds of them. Every one stood astonished, very naturally, and no one was more astonished than Master Nibble himself. As soon as he recovered his composure a little, he sat up on Uncle Jack's knee, and told his story, very much in these words:

"It was all my geography lesson, Uncle!" said Nibble. "I played I was Christopher Columbus, so that I should like it better, and I learned it all, every word of it. But I finished before Mr. Colburn had written his books, so I—"

"Stop! stop! Nibble!" cried Uncle Jack. "Who is Mr. Colburn, pray? and what has he to do with your geography lesson?"

"Why, he is Brighteyes!" said Nibble. "To make her like her arithmetic lesson, don't you know?"

"Oh! indeed!" said Uncle Jack. "Go on, Christopher!"

"So," continued Nibble, "I thought I would go on a voyage of discovery, a real voyage. And I saw that little trap door in the ceiling, that you said must be an old sky-light covered over—"

"And that I forbade you to meddle with," said Uncle Jack, quietly.

"Well, yes, Uncle, I know you did. But if Columbus had minded what other people said, would he ever have found America?"

"Humph!" said Uncle Jack, trying to suppress a smile. "Well, sir?"

"Well, sir," responded Nibble, "so I thought I would sail for that port. I climbed up on some things" (I should say he did! there was a heap of tables and chairs, desks and books, sofa-pillows and coal-scuttles, under the open trap-door, which was enough to frighten one,) "and got into it. It was a kind of an attic place, Uncle, all beams and rafters and cobwebs. I crept in ever so far on my hands and knees, and in the farthest corner I found a heap of queer old clothes all covered with dust; coats and hats, and all sorts of things. I knew they must belong to the queer old man Tomty told us about, who used to live here, and I thought it would be great fun to bring them down and dress up in them. I lifted some of them, and heard something rattle underneath: then I looked, and found that old teapot, hidden away under a great beam. It was very heavy, and the cover was fastened on with sealing-wax, so I was going to bring it down to you; but my foot slipped, and—" "And you came down rather faster than you meant to?" said Uncle Jack.

"Dear to goodness, sir!" cried Mrs. Posset, who had been picking up the gold pieces, and had her apron full of them. "It's my belief that this is neither more nor less than old Jonas Junk's treasure, of which the neighbors talk so much."

"It certainly is, Mrs. Posset!" replied Uncle Jack. "And I think we must always call Nibble Christopher Columbus, for he certainly has made a great discovery!"

CHAPTER VIII.

A STORY CHAPTER.

It was quite late one evening when I slipped in at a window in the Mouse-trap, to pay a visit to Nibble and Brighteyes. Nibble's bed, a most intelligent piece of furniture, walked in from the other room of its own accord, as soon as I appeared, so I had not even the trouble of calling it. As for the two mice, they fairly squeaked with delight when they saw me. "Oh! Mr. Moonman!" they cried, "we thought you were never coming again! where have you been all this long, long time?"

"It is only a week since I last came, little mice!" I replied; "and indeed, I should have been here oftener, but two of my pet children have been ill, and I have been telling them stories every night, to make the time pass more quickly."

"Oh! tell us about them, and tell us their names, and tell us the stories you told them!" cried Brighteyes eagerly.

"And take us on another journey, oh! please!" added Nibble, jumping up and down, with excitement.

"How is a poor Moonman to do everything at once?" I inquired. "In the first place, there will be no traveling to-night, let me tell you. A very disagreeable Wind has the watch to-night, and I would not trust you in his hands. Yes, he is a detestable fellow, very different from our seven little friends of the other night. He actually tried to blow out my lantern, which is a piece of impudence I have seldom met with. You shall hear a story about him if you will, for only last night I was telling one to Marie and Emil."

"Yes! yes!" cried the mice; "we should like it above all things. But first tell us a little about Marie and Emil. Are they the two children who have been ill?"

"Yes," I replied; "they are French children, and they live in a sea-board town in the south of France,—that is, they live there about half the time: the other half they spend on the water, in their father's yacht. Their father is a rich man, who has a passion for the sea, and likes to spend most of his time on it: and he takes his little boy and girl with him on many of his yacht voyages, for they are as fond of the water as he is, and they have no mother."

"Oh!" sighed Nibble, "I wish Uncle Jack had a yacht, and a passion for the sea!"

"That would be admirable!" said I. "Two children on a yacht are all very well, but if there were five, the captain and all the crew would jump overboard and drown themselves, I fancy. Certainly, Marie and Emil are very happy on board the Victoria. Marie has a cabin of her own, the prettiest little room you can imagine, where she sits and reads, or swings in her hammock, when she is tired of staying on deck. The sailors are all devoted to them, and now that they are ill on shore, the big captain, Jacques Legros, goes every day up to the house, to ask if 'the little angels are better?'"

"What is the matter with them?" asked Brighteyes; "and shall we have the story now, if you please?"