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　for　me　this　hour　will　be　but　a　dream　of　the　past。〃

TWELFTH　EVENING
〃I　looked　through　the　windows　of　an　editor's　house；〃　said　the
Moon。　〃It　was　somewhere　in　Germany。　I　saw　handsome　furniture；　many　books；　and　a　chaos　of　newspapers。　Several　young　men　were　present：　the　editor　himself　stood　at　his　desk；　and　two　little　books；　both　by　young　authors；　were　to　be　noticed。　'This　one　has　been　sent　to　me；'　said　he。　'I　have　not　read　it　yet；　what　think　you　of　the　contents？'　'Oh；'　said　the　person　addressed…　he　was　a　poet　himself…　'it　is　good　enough；　a　little　broad；　certainly；　but；　you　see；　the　author　is　still　young。　The　verses　might　be　better；　to　be　sure；　the　thoughts　are　sound；　though　there　is　certainly　a　good　deal　of　common…place　among　them。　But　what　will　you　have？　You　can't　be　always　getting　something　new。

That　he'll　turn　out　anything　great　I　don't　believe；　but　you　may　safely
praise　him。　He　is　well　read；　a　remarkable　Oriental　scholar；　and　has
a　good　judgment。　It　was　he　who　wrote　that　nice　review　of　my
'Reflections　on　Domestic　Life。'　We　must　be　lenient　towards　the　young　man。〃

〃'But　he　is　a　complete　hack！'　objected　another　of　the　gentlemen。
'Nothing　worse　in　poetry　than　mediocrity；　and　he　certainly　does　not　go　beyond　this。'

〃'Poor　fellow；'　observed　a　third；　'and　his　aunt　is　so　happy
about　him。　It　was　she；　Mr。　Editor；　who　got　together　so　many
subscribers　for　your　last　translation。'

〃'Ah；　the　good　woman！　Well；　I　have　noticed　the　book　briefly。
Undoubted　talent…　a　welcome　offering…　a　flower　in　the　garden　of
poetry…　prettily　brought　out…　and　so　on。　But　this　other　book…　I
suppose　the　author　expects　me　to　purchase　it？　I　hear　it　is　praised。　He
has　genius；　certainly：　don't　you　think　so？'

〃'Yes；　all　the　world　declares　as　much；'　replied　the　poet；　'but
it　has　turned　out　rather　wildly。　The　punctuation　of　the　book；　in
particular；　is　very　eccentric。'

〃'It　will　be　good　for　him　if　we　pull　him　to　pieces；　and　anger
him　a　little；　otherwise　he　will　get　too　good　an　opinion　of　himself。'

〃'But　that　would　be　unfair；'　objected　the　fourth。　'Let　us　not　carp
at　little　faults；　but　rejoice　over　the　real　and　abundant　good　that
we　find　here：　he　surpasses　all　the　rest。'

〃'Not　so。　If　he　is　a　true　genius；　he　can　bear　the　sharp　voice　of
censure。　There　are　people　enough　to　praise　him。　Don't　let　us　quite
turn　his　head。'

〃'Decided　talent；'　wrote　the　editor；　'with　the　usual　carelessness。
that　he　can　write　incorrect　verses　may　be　seen　in　page　25；　where　there
are　two　false　quantities。　We　recommend　him　to　study　the　ancients；
etc。'

〃I　went　away；〃　continued　the　Moon；　〃and　looked　through　the　windows　in　the　aunt's　house。　There　sat　the　be…praised　poet；　the　tame　one；　all　the　guests　paid　homage　to　him；　and　he　was　happy。
〃I　sought　the　other　poet　out；　the　wild　one；　him　also　I　found　in
a　great　assembly　at　his　patron's；　where　the　tame　poet's　book　was　being　discussed。

〃'I　shall　read　yours　also；'　said　Maecenas；　'but　to　speak　honestly…
you　know　I　never　hide　my　opinion　from　you…　I　don't　expect　much　from　it；　for　you　are　much　too　wild；　too　fantastic。　But　it　must　be　allowed　that；　as　a　man；　you　are　highly　respectable。'

〃A　young　girl　sat　in　a　corner；　and　she　read　in　a　book　these　words：
〃'In　the　dust　lies　genius　and　glory；
But　ev'ry…day　talent　will　pay。
It's　only　the　old；　old　story；
But　the　piece　is　repeated　each　day。'〃

THIRTEENTH　EVENING
The　Moon　said；　〃Beside　the　woodland　path　there　are　two　small
farm…houses。　The　doors　are　low；　and　some　of　the　windows　are　placed　quite　high；　and　others　close　to　the　ground；　and　whitethorn　and
barberry　bushes　grow　around　them。　The　roof　of　each　house　is
overgrown　with　moss　and　with　yellow　flowers　and　houseleek。　Cabbage　and　potatoes　are　the　only　plants　cultivated　in　the　gardens；　but　out　of　the　hedge　there　grows　a　willow　tree；　and　under　this　willow　tree　sat　a　little　girl；　and　she　sat　with　her　eyes　fixed　upon　the　old　oak　tree　between　the　two　huts。

〃It　was　an　old　withered　stem。　It　had　been　sawn　off　at　the　top；　and
a　stork　had　built　his　nest　upon　it；　and　he　stood　in　this　nest　clapping
with　his　beak。　A　little　boy　came　and　stood　by　the　girl's　side：　they
were　brother　and　sister。

〃'What　are　you　looking　at？'　he　asked。

〃'I'm　watching　the　stork；'　she　replied：　'our　neighbors　told　me
that　he　would　bring　us　a　little　brother　or　sister　to…day；　let　us　watch
to　see　it　come！'

〃'The　stork　brings　no　such　things；'　the　boy　declared；　'you　may
be　sure　of　that。　Our　neighbor　told　me　the　same　thing；　but　she
laughed　when　she　said　it；　and　so　I　asked　her　if　she　could　say　'On　my
honor；'　and　she　could　not；　and　I　know　by　that　the　story　about　the
storks　is　not　true；　and　that　they　only　tell　it　to　us　children　for
fun。'

〃'But　where　do　babies　come　from；　then？'　asked　the　girl。

〃'Why；　an　angel　from　heaven　brings　them　under　his　cloak；　but　no
man　can　see　him；　and　that's　why　we　never　know　when　he　brings　them。'

〃At　that　moment　there　was　a　rustling　in　the　branches　of　the　willow
tree；　and　the　children　folded　their　hands　and　looked　at　one　another：
it　was　certainly　the　angel　coming　with　the　baby。　They　took　each
other's　hand；　and　at　that　moment　the　door　of　one　of　the　houses　opened；　and　the　neighbour　appeared。

〃'Come　in；　you　two；'　she　said。　'See　what　the　stork　has　brought。　It
is　a　little　brother。'

〃And　the　children　nodded　gravely　at　one　another；　for　they　had　felt
quite　sure　already　that　the　baby　was　come。〃

FOURTEENTH　EVENING
〃I　was　gliding　over　the　Luneburg　Heath；〃　the　Moon　said。　〃A
lonely　hut　stood　by　the　wayside；　a　few　scanty　bushes　grew　near　it；　and　a　nightingale　who　had　lost　his　way　sang　sweetly。　He　died　in　the
coldness　of　the　night：　it　was　his　farewell　song　that　I　heard。

〃The　morning　dawn　came　glimmering　red。　I　saw　a　caravan　of　emigrant　peasant　families　who　were　bound　to　Hamburgh；　there　to　take　ship　for　America；　where　fancied　prosperity　would　bloom　for　them。　
The　mothers　carried　their　little　children　at　their　backs；　the　elder　ones
tottered　by　their　sides；　and　a　poor　starved　horse　tugged　at　a　cart
that　bore　their　scanty　effects。　The　cold　wind　whistled；　and
therefore　the　little　girl　nestled　closer　to　the　mother；　who；　looking
up　at　my　decreasing　disc；　thought　of　the　bitter　want　at　home；　and
spoke　of　the　heavy　taxes　they　had　not　been　able　to　raise。　The　whole
caravan　thought　of　the　same　thing；　therefore；　the　rising　dawn　seemed
to　them　a　message　from　the　sun；　of　fortune　that　was　to　gleam
brightly　upon　them。　They　heard　the　dying　nightingale　sing；　it　was　no
false　prophet；　but　a　harbinger　of　fortune。　The　wind　whistled；
therefore　they　did　not　understand　that　the　nightingale　sung；　'Fare
away　over　the　sea！　Thou　hast　paid　the　long　passage　with　all　that　was
thine；　and　poor　and　helpless　shalt　thou　enter　Canaan。　Thou　must　sell
thyself；　thy　wife；　and　thy　children。　But　your　griefs　shall　not　last
long。　Behind　the　broad　fragrant　leaves　lurks　the　goddess　of　Death；　and　her　welcome　kiss　shall　breathe　fever　into　thy　blood。　Fare　away；　fare　away；　over　the　heaving　billows。'　And　the　caravan　listened　well　pleased　to　the　song　of　the　nightingale；　which　seemed　to　promise　good
fortune。　Day　broke　through　the　light　clouds；　country　people　went
across　the　heath　to　church；　the　black…gowned　women　with　their　white
head…dresses　looked　like　ghosts　that　had　stepped　forth　from　the　church　pictures。　All　around　lay　a　wide　dead　plain；　covered　with　faded　brown　heath；　and　black　charred　spaces　between　the　white　sand　hills。　
The　women　carried　hymn　books；　and　walked　into　the　church。　Oh；　pray；　pray　for　those　who　are　wandering　to　find　graves　beyond　the　foaming　billows。〃

FIFTEENTH　EVENING
〃I　know　a　Pulcinella；〃　the　Moon　told　me。　〃The　public　applaud
vociferously　directly　they　see　him。　Every　one　of　his　movements　is
comic；　and　is　sure　to　throw　the　house　into　convulsions　of　laughter；
and　yet　there　is　no　art　in　it　all…　it　is　complete　nature。　When　he
was　yet　a　little　boy；　playing　about　with　other　boys；　he　was　already
Punch。　Nature　had　intended　him　for　it；　and　had　provided　him　with　a
hump　on　his　back；　and　another　on　his　breast；　but　his　inward　man；　his
mind；　on　the　contrary；　was　richly　furnished。　No　one　could　surpass
him　in　depth　of　feeling　or　in　readiness　of　intellect。　The　theatre
was　his　ideal　world。　If　he　had　possessed　a　slender　well…shaped　figure；
he　might　have　been　the　first　tragedian　on　any　stage；　the　heroic；　the
great；　filled　his　soul；　and　yet　he　had　to　become　a　Pulcinella。　His
very　sorrow　and　melancholy　did　but　increase　the　comic　dryness　of　his　sharply…cut　features；　and　increased　the　laughter　of　the　audience；
who　showered　plaudits　on　their　favourite。　The　lovely　Columbine　was
indeed　kind　and　cordial　to　him；　but　she　preferred　to　marry　the
Harlequin。　It　would　have　been　too　ridiculous　if　beauty　and　ugliness
had　in　reality　paired　together。

〃When　Pulcinella　was　in　very　bad　spirits；　she　was　the　only　one　who
could　force　a　hearty　burst　of　laughter；　or　even　a　smile　from　him：
first　she　would　be　melancholy　with　him；　then　quieter；　and　at　last
quite　cheerful　and　happy。　'I　know　very　well　what　is　the　matter　with
you；'　she　said；　'yes；　you're　in　love！'　And　he　could　not　help　laughing。
'I　and　Love；〃　he　cried；　〃that　would　have　an　absurd　look。　How　the
public　would　shout！'　'Certainly；　you　are　in　love；'　she　continued；
and　added　with　a　c