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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