THERE was one little child that David liked better than all the other children; her name was Phyllis, and she was a princess-for she wore a golden coronet. Here eyes were as blue as the sky, and her hair was as yellow as gold, and her lips were as red as corals, and her teeth were as white as pearls, and her laugh was like the tinkle of water, and she had the sweetest, shyest, prettiest little ways that ever any little maiden had. David used to stand and look at her, and look at her. It was almost as though he were afraid of her, but it really was not that. Phyllis knew very well when David was looking at her, for she would look slyly back at him out of the corner of her eyes, and then, maybe, she would burst out laughing like a peal of silver bells, and perhaps run away. She used to sit beside David at table, and he would always choose her out of the ring when they were playing "There were three Knights a-riding." And when they would sing--for they used to sing together every morning--he always stood beside her, and it seemed to him that their voices matched so perfectly together, that it made his ears ring as though a glass bell had been struck. Then she would look at him, and he would look at her, and the beautiful lady would look at them both, and if she did not smile, she did something more than smile, for her face shone just as the Moon-Angel's face shone when he looked at the bright star that beamed red and blue--as though a bright light were behind the face, and turned to a translucent rosy red. If you want to see how it looked, just hold your hand up before a strong light, and see how the rosy brightness shines through your fingers.
One day David and Phyllis were walking together down the garden path. There were rose bushes all around, and the bright warm air was full of the smell of flowers, and the trees over their heads were full of pink and white blossoms. Beside the blossoms, there were many fruit, purple plums, rosy apples, pears as yellow as pure gold. David and Phyllis were walking hand in hand, and they were very quiet. The other children were playing over on the lawn beyond the rose bushes, and they two could hear them shouting and laughing. Over across the trees they could see the tall, steep roof of the red brick house. Above that, again, was the tall tower, and the round clock face, and the brass weather-cock, that shone like a spark of yellow fire as the breeze blew it this way and that.
"I shall have to go back again pretty soon," said David.
"Go where " said Phyllis.
"Back into the moon," said David.
"I thought you had come to live with us all the time," said Phyllis.
"No; I am not," said David. "I am only out for a holiday until the Moon-Angel sends for me to come back again."
" And does the Moon-Angel live in the moonhouse?" asked Phyllis.
"No; but he comes there for three days in every month," said David.
"What does he come for? "
"He comes to look at the star that shines red and blue."
"What does he look at the star for?"
David stopped to think--and he could not tell. When he had not tried to think about it, it seemed to him that he knew why the Moon-Angel looked at the star, but when he tried to think he knew nothing.
Yes; that is the way with all of us--when we try to think about it, then we cannot tell; when we do not try to think about it, then we know all about it. "I don't know why he looks at the star," said David. "Only he says that he is making old things new again."
"What kind of old things does he make new again?" asked Phyllis.
"That I do not know," said David.
"But why do you have to go back into the moon again? " said Phyllis.
"Because the Man-in-the-moon will gather in the stars again, and then I 'II have to polish then with lamb's-wool," said David.
"And were they always polished that way?"
"Yes."
"But who was it polished them before you went into the moon?" said Phyllis.
Again David stopped to think, and then he couldn't tell that either. It seemed to him that he did know until he thought about it, and then he knew nothing. "I don't know," said he, and then--"Will you be sorry when I have gone back into the moon "
"Yes; I will," said Phyllis.
"When I grow up," said David, "and when you grow up, then we will be married."
Phyllis turned her face, and looked at David, and he looked at her. As he did so, he felt a strange and wonderful thrill at his heart, such as he never felt before. It was so keen that it hurt him, and so sweet that it made his breast ache. He did not know what it was.
"Yes," she whispered, "we shall be married." Then suddenly she snatched her hand away from his and ran away, laughing like a peal of silver bells. The next moment she was gone around the bushes and was with the other children again.
David stood for a while and wondered why his heart fluttered so. Then he followed after her, and he felt very sheepish and ashamed. When he came back to the other children she would not look at him or pay any attention to him. David felt hurt that she should act so. He did not know that she acted in that way because she was a littie girl. That is the way little girls always act--and big girls too. Why they do so, nobody but the Moon-Angel knows.
Tinkle-tinkle-tinkle! It was that same afternoon, and David heard the bell ringing. He was playing with all his might and main, but he stopped and stood still, for he knew that the bell was ringing for him. Sure enough, there was the moon-house, and there was the open door and the back stairs, and there stood the Man-in-the-moon in the door-way, ringing the bell, just as a teacher rings the bell when play-time is over.
"Must I really go?" said David to the beautiful lady.
"Yes; you must go," said the beautiful lady.
David ran to her and flung his arms aroid her; she stooped over and kissed him. "Hurry," said she, "or it will be too late."
"Good by! Good by!" cried David, as he ran away toward the moon-house.
"Good by! Good by!" called the children after him. " Come back soon, again."
"I will if I can," called David over his shoulder.
The Man-in-the-moon reached out his hand. David took it, and stepped up into the door. Click-clack! and then he was inside of the moon, once more.
He went up stairs to the second story. The Moon-Angel had gone. One of the windows was open, and there was a tiny thread of white light shining on the side of the moon-house.
By and by the folk down in the world would look up and say, "Yonder is the new moon."