CRYSTAL AND GLEN ELLIS FALLS, ill 



from that of Cynthia to mine, the madam pro- 

 pounded the following question : 



" Why are we like the moon ? " 



Instantly my mind went travelling into the past, 

 seeking to recall a passage from some favorite poet 

 that should answer the question. But in vain : I 

 could find plenty of quotations ; but all were too 

 sickly sentimental, too " moony," for our time of 

 life, and at last I gave up in despair. 



Turning towards me with a most self-satisfying 

 look, though breathing a contradictory sigh, 



"We are like the moon, my dear," said she, 

 "because we are full." 



. Whenever in simple truthfulness I have related 

 this little occurrence to a circle of listening friends, 

 it has always, by the madam, been emphatically 

 denied; and the last time, to prove the whole 

 story an invention of my brain, she triumphantly 

 produced an almanac of that year, and showed to 

 the listeners that on the evening in question there 

 was no moon, at least within range of our vision. 



To say that I was dumbfounded, would convey 

 but a slight idea of my feelings. With the remem- 

 brance of Luna's silvery brightness as she shone 

 upon us that summer evening, and the sparkle of the 

 madam's eyes, as the practical answer to her own 

 query came from her lips, and to gaze into them as 



