yes,thatshecouldwellunderstand,thebeautifulpu.herthoughtswanderedawayfromherhome,wanderedtothetemple,butnotforthesakeofholythings.poorpu!poorsoui-hong!

"theirearthlythoughtsmet,butmycoldbeamlaybetweenthetwo,liketheswordofthecherub."

twenty-seventhevening

"theairwascalm,"saidthemoon;"thewaterwastransparentasthepurestetherthroughwhichiwasgliding,anddeepbelowthesurfaceicouldseethestrangeplantsthatstretcheduptheirlongarmstowardsmelikethegigantictreesoftheforest.thefishesswamtoandfroabovetheirtops.highintheairaflightofwildswanswerewingingtheirway,oneofwhichsanklowerandlower,withweariedpinions,hiseyesfollowingtheairycaravan,thatmeltedfartherandfartherintothedistance.withoutspreadwingshesankslowly,asasoapbubblesinksinthestillair,tillhetouchedthewater.atlengthhisheadlaybackbetweenhiswings,andsilentlyhelaythere,likeawhitelotusfloweruponthequietlake.andagentlewindarose,andcrispedthequietsurface,whichgleamedlikethecloudsthatpouredalongingreatbroadwaves;andtheswanraisedhishead,andtheglowingwatersplashedlikebluefireoverhisbreastandback.themorningdawnilluminatedtheredclouds,theswanrosestrengthened,andflewtowardstherisingsun,towardsthebluishcoastwhitherthecaravanhadgone;butheflewalone,withalonginginhisbreast.lonelyheflewovertheblueswellingbillows."

twenty-eighthevening

"iwillgiveyouanotherpictureofsweden,"saidthemoon."amongdarkpinewoods,nearthemelancholybanksofthestoxen,liestheoldconventchurchofwreta.myraysglidedthroughthegratingintotheroomyvaults,wherekingssleeptranquillyingreatstonethewall,abovethegraveofeach,isplacedtheemblemofearthlygrandeur,akinglycrown;butitismadeonlyofwood,paintedandgilt,andishungonawoodenpegdrivenintothewall.thewormshavegnawedthegildedwood,thespiderhasspunherwebfromthecrowndowntothesand,likeamourningbanner,frailandtransientasthegriefofmortals.howquietlytheysleep!icanrememberthemquiteplainly.istillseetheboldsmileontheirlips,thatsostronglyandplainlyexpressedjoyorgrief.whenthesteamboatwindsalonglikeamagicsnailoverthelakes,astrangeroftencomestothechurch,andvisitstheburialvault;heasksthenamesofthekings,andtheyhaveadeadandforgottensound.heglanceswithasmileattheworm-eatencrowns,andifhehappenstobeapious,thoughtfulman,somethingofmelancholymingleswiththesmile.slumberon,yedeadones!themoonthinksofyou,themoonatnightsendsdownhisraysintoyoursilentkingdom,overwhichhangsthecrownofpinewood."

twenty-ninthevening

"closebythehigh-road,"saidthemoon,"isaninn,andoppositetoitisagreatwaggon-shed,whosestrawroofwasjustbeingre-thatched.ilookeddownbetweenthebareraftersandthroughtheopenloftintothecomfortlessspacebelow.theturkey-cocksleptonthebeam,andthesaddlerestedintheemptycrib.inthemiddleoftheshedstoodatravellingcarriage;theproprietorwasinside,fastasleep,whilethehorseswerebeingwatered.thecoachmanstretchedhimself,thoughiamverysurethathehadbeenmostcomfortablyasleephalfthelaststage.thedooroftheservants'roomstoodopen,andthebedlookedasifithadbeenturnedoverandover;thecandlestoodonthefloor,andhadburntdeepdownintothesocket.thewindblewcoldthroughtheshed:itwasnearertothedawnthantomidnight.inthewoodenframeonthegroundsleptawanderingfamilyofmusicians.thefatherandmotherseemedtobedreamingoftheburningliquorthatremainedinthebottle.thelittlepaledaughterwasdreamingtoo,forhereyeswerewetwithtears.theharpstoodattheirheads,andthedoglaystretchedattheirfeet."

thirtiethevening

"itwasinalittleprovincialtown,"themoonsaid;"itcertainlyhappenedlastyear,butthathasnothingtodowiththematter.isawitquiteplainly.to-dayireadaboutitinthepapers,butthereitwasnothalfsoclearlyexpressed.inthetaproomofthelittleinnsatthebearleader,eatinghissupper;thebearwastiedupoutside,behindthewoodpile-poorbruin,whodidnobodyanyharm,thoughhelookedgrimenough.upinthegarretthreelittlechildrenwereplayingbythelightofmybeams;theeldestwasperhapssixyearsold,theyoungestcertainlynotmorethantwo.'tramp,tramp'-somebodywascomingupstairs:whomightitbe?