n the terrace there was a Pergola—that was two rows of white columns with criss-cross bars overhead and vines growing over it. There were built-in seats between the columns, but there were always chairs besides. There was no one in it. Down below, in the garden, there were Shapes flitting about in the dusk. They came up out of it, to the Pergola, all together; and they were the Princess and the Others.
A large spider was spinning down, with a clear yellow 128sky behind it, at the far end of the Pergola. They were obliged to watch it. It dropped and sprung, elastic, on the end of its thread—then dropped—and sprung; and then it clawed up again, working its legs. They could see them distinctly against the sky, though it was quite a distance away. Out at their end, the sky was cool, with a white moon in it; so there were two kinds of shadows: large, blurred ones from the last daylight; and in them, moon-shadows of the vines on the long white seats and on the floor and down one side of the Princess’s dress—sitting in a chair. The moon-shadows were very faint, but they were a clear pattern, and the daylight shadows had no edges; soon there would be only moon. It was very interesting.
And the slide of Lady Moon’s lantern was about three quarters open.
“Wasn’t it lovely she took him?” said Phyllisy. “I’d rather she than anybody else.”
“But it stopped short,” said Pat.
“That was a proper end of a story, with everybody happy,” said the Princess. “You wouldn’t want any more than that, would you?”
“The people weren’t, with the houses and everything spoiled.”
“But they built new ones, very quickly. It doesn’t take 129long to build a house like a bird-cage. They drove the loaded ox-carts only a little way down the slope of the mountain; and before you could think, there was a new village just like the old, and everything was just as it was before. The brown babies and the spotted pigs ran and tumbled about, and the women went right on grinding corn to make more and more flat cakes; but they didn’t do much housework or sewing, and everybody slept a good deal in the midday heat; then when the cool evening came they gathered together to visit comfortably, while the children played about in the moonlight.”
“Like us?” asked the Kitten.
“Like us,” said the Princess. “Only you aren’t playing about; you are listening to more story.”
“Oh, is it more?” asked Pat.
“A tiny bit,” said the Princess. And the Others wriggled down into their places to listen quite differently from the way they listened when it was conversation. She began to speak in a still voice:—
“So it was one night when the full, round moon shone, silver-bright above the treetops. One of the women sat a little apart, and watched it soaring among the stars. And as she looked, it seemed to her it was not quite round; a tiny slice was gone from one edge.
130“‘See the moon!’ she called to the others, pointing upward.
“They gathered near; and as they watched it, the dark shadow crept forward, across the face of the moon.
“‘What is it?’ asked the children.
“‘I know not,’ said the old grandmother. ‘It comes so at times; but never have I seen it like this. Before, it has covered the whole moon, or gone over one edge—like a great shadow. But this is round, like a dark ball, and small. See, the moon shows around it.’
“It was as she said: a thin thread of light, like a silver ring, almost surrounded the dark something that came between their eyes and the moon.
“‘It is just like the Bee Baby!’ said one of the children. ‘Don’t you remember how round his little head was?’
“‘I wonder what became of him,’ said another.
“‘Perhaps he’s there—in the sky,’ said a third.
“But the grandmother said: ‘You are foolish children. He is dead. Xyntli’s snakes could tell—’
“Wise children know when to stop arguing with older people about things that only children understand. So they said no more to the grandmother, but drew away, and talked and whispered to each other—while the small round shadow passed on, across the bright lantern of the moon, and left it clear once more.”
 
THE SMALL ROUND SHADOW PASSED ON ACROSS THE BRIGHT LANTERN OF THE MOON
131“But it was truly the Bee Baby,” said Pat. “And now they could know what became of him.”
“What did he do to the moon?” asked the Kitten, because she didn’t exactly understand.
“What do you think about this?” asked the Princess. “If a little child—so tall”—she showed, with her hand—“follows a beautiful lady with a lantern hung on her arm, don’t you think, once in a great while, his round little head might come in the way, and interfere with its light?”
“It did. That was it,” said the Kitten comfortably.
Then, with Lady Moon throwing leaf patterns and white light down upon them, and the whole world very still, the Princess told them a song:—
“Who loves to follow wherever you roam,
Lady Moon?”
“Bee Baby.”
“Is he happy in Starland?—so far from his home?”
“He may be.
“Over Milky-Way meadows
Fly the bees, living gold;
There he strays, blessed Lamb,
Safe, with love for his fold.”
132“Who comes to nestle so close in your arm,
Lady Moon?”
“Bee Baby.”
“Is he falling asleep, to a Starland lullaby’s charm?”
“Hush—he may be!”