"'They toiled and built a thousand years in love's all-powerful might,And so the Milky Way was made a bridge of starry light.'
"'They toiled and built a thousand years in love's all-powerful might,And so the Milky Way was made a bridge of starry light.'
"'They toiled and built a thousand years in love's all-powerful might,And so the Milky Way was made a bridge of starry light.'
"'They toiled and built a thousand years in love's all-powerful might,
And so the Milky Way was made a bridge of starry light.'
"Now, Harry, look at the Milky Way in the northern part of the sky, and what do you see?" asked Mary.
"Some stars that look like a W," replied Harry; "and just below it is another but larger W."
"The small W is Cassiopeia," said Mary, "and the large one is Cepheus; but I shall tell you their story another time, as it is getting late now. Under the large W, you will see some stars that look like a large cross. This is sometimes called the Northern Cross, but it is better known as the Swan."
"The 'Swan' is supposed to represent a wonderful musician named Orpheus. Apollo gave him a magic harp, which he played with such sweetness that the wild beasts of the forest were tamed by its sounds, rapid rivers ceased to flow, and mountains and trees listened to the music.
"One day Orpheus met a beautiful maiden named Eurydice, and won her for his bride. But their happiness did not last long, as a serpentlurking in the grass stung her foot, and she died of the wound.
"Orpheus mourned her sadly, until at last he died and his spirit met hers in the kingdom of Pluto. Afterward Orpheus and Eurydice were placed among the stars. You can see the harp beside Orpheus, and it is adorned with a sparkling blue star named Vega.
"And now one more story," said Mary, as she heard the church clock chime nine, "and then we must say 'good-by' to the stars for to-night."
THE SWAN.THE SWAN.
THE SWAN.
"It has been lovely," said Harry. "I could listen to these stories all night long. How I shall enjoy the stars since you have told me so much about them! What are you going to tell me now?"
"Just under the Swan can you see a bright star, and a little star on each side of it?" asked Mary.
Harry looked, and after a few moments he found them. When his sister had made sure that he could see the stars she meant, she began her story as follows:
"The Japanese call the Milky Way the Silver River of Heaven, and they believe that on the seventh day of the seventh month (7th of July), the Shepherd-boy star and the Spinning-maiden star cross the Milky Way to meet each other. Vega, the bright star in the harp, is supposed to be the spinning-maiden, and on the other side of the Milky Way, crossing over where you see thebright star and the little star on each side, you will find the shepherd boy, otherwise known as the Goat. These stars are known among the Japanese as the 'boy with an ox' and 'the girl with a shuttle,' about whom the following story is told:
"There once lived on the banks of the Silver River of Heaven a beautiful maiden who was the daughter of the Sun. Night and morning she was always weaving, blending the roseate hues of morning with the silvery tints of evening. That is why she was called the Spinning maiden. The Sun-king chose a husband for her. He was a Shepherd boy who guarded his flocks on the banks of the celestial stream.
"After meeting him the Spinning maiden ceased to work, and the bright hues of morning were left to take care of themselves, while the silvery tints of evening hung like ragged fringe on the dark mantle of night. The Sun-king, believing that the Shepherd boy was to blame, banished him to the other side of the Silver River, telling him that only once a year, on the seventh day ofthe seventh month, could the Spinning maiden come to see him.
"The king called together myriads of doves and commanded them to make a bridge over the river of stars. Supported on their wings, the Shepherd boy crossed over to the other side. No sooner had he set foot on the opposite shore than the doves flew away, filling the heavens with their billing and cooing. The weeping wife and loving husband stood awhile gazing at each other from afar, and then they separated, one in search of another flock of sheep, the other to ply her shuttle during the long hours of daylight.
"Thus the days passed away, and the Sun-king rejoiced that his daughter was busy again. But when night comes, and all the lamps of heaven are lighted, the lovers stand beside the banks of the starry river and gaze lovingly at each other, eagerly awaiting the seventh day of the seventh month. As the time draws near the Japanese are filled with anxiety. What if it should rain, for the River of Heaven is filled to the brim, and a single raindrop would make it overflow! Thiswould cause a flood, and the bridge of doves would be swept away.
"But if the night is clear, then the Spinning maiden crosses over in safety, and meets her Shepherd boy. This she does every year except when it rains. That is why the Japanese hope for clear weather on the 7th of July, when the 'meeting of the star-lovers' is made a gala day all over the country."
THE EAGLE.THE EAGLE.
THE EAGLE.
"Sister, I can see the Spinning-maiden star, and the Shepherd boy, but where is the bridge of doves?" asked Harry.
"Across the Milky Way," said Mary.
"See the bright star, which is called Altair, andone little star on each side. We call that the Eagle, so if you change the story a little you can say the Eagle takes the Spinning maiden across the Silver River of Heaven."
When the sky was first made and suspendedFrom the far and invisible bars,It enveloped the world, and God fashionedSmall windows, and these are the stars.And the bits of the sky, through the evening,Fluttered down to the sod and the dew,And behold! in the morn they had blossomed,And these are the violets blue.
When the sky was first made and suspendedFrom the far and invisible bars,It enveloped the world, and God fashionedSmall windows, and these are the stars.And the bits of the sky, through the evening,Fluttered down to the sod and the dew,And behold! in the morn they had blossomed,And these are the violets blue.
When the sky was first made and suspendedFrom the far and invisible bars,It enveloped the world, and God fashionedSmall windows, and these are the stars.
When the sky was first made and suspended
From the far and invisible bars,
It enveloped the world, and God fashioned
Small windows, and these are the stars.
And the bits of the sky, through the evening,Fluttered down to the sod and the dew,And behold! in the morn they had blossomed,And these are the violets blue.
And the bits of the sky, through the evening,
Fluttered down to the sod and the dew,
And behold! in the morn they had blossomed,
And these are the violets blue.
Oh, the Summer nightHas a smile of lightAnd she sits on a sapphire throne;Whilst the sweet winds load herWith garlands of odor,From the bud to the rose o'erblown!But the Autumn nightHas a piercing sight,And a step both strong and free;And a voice for wonder,Like the wrath of the thunder,When he shouts to the stormy sea!And the Winter nightIs all cold and white,And she singeth a song of pain;Till the wild bee hummeth,And the warm spring cometh,When she dies in a dream of rain!—Adelaide Proctor.
Oh, the Summer nightHas a smile of lightAnd she sits on a sapphire throne;Whilst the sweet winds load herWith garlands of odor,From the bud to the rose o'erblown!But the Autumn nightHas a piercing sight,And a step both strong and free;And a voice for wonder,Like the wrath of the thunder,When he shouts to the stormy sea!And the Winter nightIs all cold and white,And she singeth a song of pain;Till the wild bee hummeth,And the warm spring cometh,When she dies in a dream of rain!—Adelaide Proctor.
Oh, the Summer nightHas a smile of lightAnd she sits on a sapphire throne;Whilst the sweet winds load herWith garlands of odor,From the bud to the rose o'erblown!
Oh, the Summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne;
Whilst the sweet winds load her
With garlands of odor,
From the bud to the rose o'erblown!
But the Autumn nightHas a piercing sight,And a step both strong and free;And a voice for wonder,Like the wrath of the thunder,When he shouts to the stormy sea!
But the Autumn night
Has a piercing sight,
And a step both strong and free;
And a voice for wonder,
Like the wrath of the thunder,
When he shouts to the stormy sea!
And the Winter nightIs all cold and white,And she singeth a song of pain;Till the wild bee hummeth,And the warm spring cometh,When she dies in a dream of rain!
And the Winter night
Is all cold and white,
And she singeth a song of pain;
Till the wild bee hummeth,
And the warm spring cometh,
When she dies in a dream of rain!
—Adelaide Proctor.
—Adelaide Proctor.
God's presence through the twilight stillness glides,To spirits vocal—silent to the ear;He calls by name each fair star where it hides,And each star brightens, as it answers 'Here!'Though we too call the stars, they answer not,They do not softly come like children shyAt a fond parent's calling, for, I wot,We do not know what names God calls them by.
God's presence through the twilight stillness glides,To spirits vocal—silent to the ear;He calls by name each fair star where it hides,And each star brightens, as it answers 'Here!'Though we too call the stars, they answer not,They do not softly come like children shyAt a fond parent's calling, for, I wot,We do not know what names God calls them by.
God's presence through the twilight stillness glides,To spirits vocal—silent to the ear;He calls by name each fair star where it hides,And each star brightens, as it answers 'Here!'
God's presence through the twilight stillness glides,
To spirits vocal—silent to the ear;
He calls by name each fair star where it hides,
And each star brightens, as it answers 'Here!'
Though we too call the stars, they answer not,They do not softly come like children shyAt a fond parent's calling, for, I wot,We do not know what names God calls them by.
Though we too call the stars, they answer not,
They do not softly come like children shy
At a fond parent's calling, for, I wot,
We do not know what names God calls them by.
THE GREAT TELESCOPE AT LICK OBSERVATORY.THE GREAT TELESCOPE AT LICK OBSERVATORY.
THE GREAT TELESCOPE AT LICK OBSERVATORY.
I heard the trailing garments of the nightSweep through her marble halls,I saw her sable skirts all fringed with lightFrom the celestial walls.—Longfellow.
I heard the trailing garments of the nightSweep through her marble halls,I saw her sable skirts all fringed with lightFrom the celestial walls.—Longfellow.
I heard the trailing garments of the nightSweep through her marble halls,I saw her sable skirts all fringed with lightFrom the celestial walls.
I heard the trailing garments of the night
Sweep through her marble halls,
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls.
—Longfellow.
—Longfellow.
Winter had come with its cold north winds and frosty air. The stars glittered like gems against the dark velvet sky, and seemed reflected in the mantle of pure white snow that covered the earth. Mary had asked Harry's nurse to move his couch into her room so that he might see the stars from the windows, one looking south, the other east. Impatiently Harry now awaited his sister, who had promised to take him on another trip to starland. The room was in total darkness, and nurse had raised the curtains. Looking right into one window was the mighty giant Orion, while the Twins peeped into another.
"It is as good as a play," said Harry, as his sister started to tell him about them.
"First of all," she said, "I am going to tell you the story of the Royal Family, although we cannot see them from this window. You can get a glimpse of Cepheus from your own room, but the rest of the Royal Family are overhead. You would have to make a hole through the roof if you wanted to watch them while I told their story."
"If we could go out-of-doors, as we did last summer, could we see them overhead?" asked Harry.
"Yes," replied his sister; "but it is too cold now to look at them except from a warm, cozy room. To-morrow I shall show you a map of these stars, and when the days grow warm again we can look for them in the sky."
"Can you see them during the summer-time as well as the winter?" asked Harry.
QUEEN CASSIOPEIA.QUEEN CASSIOPEIA.
QUEEN CASSIOPEIA.
"Yes, we can see them all the year round, justas we can always see the Pole Star and the Great Dipper. The Royal Family consists of King Cepheus, Queen Cassiopeia, and her daughter Andromeda, sometimes called the 'Chained Lady.' Perseus, the rescuer, is at the feet of Andromeda, while her head rests upon the shoulder of the winged horse Pegasus.
"The Grecians told a wonderful story about this family. It appears that Cassiopeia boasted of her beauty, and said she was more attractivethan Juno, the wife of Jupiter. As for her daughter Andromeda, not a nymph in the sea could compare with her in good looks. You may imagine how Juno and the sea-nymphs felt when they heard this vain boast!
"They determined to have revenge, and Juno asked Jupiter to punish Cassiopeia. So she was sent away from the earth and placed among the stars with her husband Cepheus.
KING CEPHEUS.KING CEPHEUS.
KING CEPHEUS.
"As for Andromeda, the sea-nymphs asked Neptune to send a sea-monster to devour her.She was chained to a rock so that she might not escape this terrible fate; but just as the monster was approaching a brave hero named Perseus came to her rescue.
THE FAIR ANDROMEDE.THE FAIR ANDROMEDE.
THE FAIR ANDROMEDE.
"Perseus was returning through the air on his winged horse Pegasus from a terrible encounter with the Gorgons. These were three sisters who frightened everyone that saw them. Serpents were wreathed around their heads instead of hair, their hands were of brass, their bodies were coveredwith scales, and their eyes had the power of turning all they looked at to stone. Perseus had cut off the heads of one of these terrible beings, and when he saw the monster approaching Andromeda, he turned the head which he still held in his hand toward it, and in a moment it turned to stone.
"As a reward for his bravery, he was placed after his death among the stars, and near the fair Andromeda. He still holds the head in his hand,and a star named Algol, or the Demon, as the Arabs call it, marks the evil eye. Sometimes it is bright, but in a few hours it will grow dim, as though winking at the people on earth. For this reason it is called a variable or changing star."
PERSEUS.PERSEUS.
PERSEUS.
"What is that, sister?" asked Harry.
"A star that is brighter one time than another. Supposing someone kept turning the wick of the lamp up and down so that at one moment the room would be very bright and the next moment quite dim. You would call that a changing light. So it is with these stars, only in the case of Algol it is a planet that goes around it and at times cuts off part of its light. For two days and a half it is very bright, then during three or four hours it begins to get dim, and remains so for twenty minutes and then it gets bright again.
"Supposing you were trying to read by lamplight, and I should now and then hold a book between the lamp and you. Each time I did so the light on your book would grow dim. There is another variable or changing star named Mira, in the group of stars called Cetus, which is noother than the sea-monster which was sent to devour Andromeda. You can see it if you look out of the window facing south, and you will notice that it is at a safe distance from Andromeda, who is almost exactly overhead just now."
"Not far from the sea-monster are the Fishes, and the story about them is as follows:
"One day when Venus and her little son Cupid were walking beside the banks of a river they were frightened at seeing a terrible giant named Typhon. Flames flashed from his eyes, and as he glared at Venus and Cupid they were overcome with fear and called on Jupiter to help them. He changed them into fishes, and afterward placed them among the stars.
"Between Cetus and Orion you can see some stars winding in and out, and they are part of the River Eridanus. A daring youth named Phaeton tried to drive the chariot of the sun through the sky one day. Jupiter struck himwith a thunderbolt, and hurled him from heaven into the river below.
RIVER ERIDANUS.RIVER ERIDANUS.
RIVER ERIDANUS.
"'At once from life and from the chariot driven,Th' ambitious boy fell thunderstruck from heaven.The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair,Shot from the chariot like a falling starThat in a summer's evening from the topOf heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop.'
"'At once from life and from the chariot driven,Th' ambitious boy fell thunderstruck from heaven.The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair,Shot from the chariot like a falling starThat in a summer's evening from the topOf heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop.'
"'At once from life and from the chariot driven,Th' ambitious boy fell thunderstruck from heaven.
"'At once from life and from the chariot driven,
Th' ambitious boy fell thunderstruck from heaven.
The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair,Shot from the chariot like a falling starThat in a summer's evening from the topOf heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop.'
The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair,
Shot from the chariot like a falling star
That in a summer's evening from the top
Of heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop.'
"His sisters mourned his unhappy end, and were changed by Jupiter into poplars, which arestill to be seen on the banks of the River Eridanus.
"'All the night long their mournful watch they keep,And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.'"
"'All the night long their mournful watch they keep,And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.'"
"'All the night long their mournful watch they keep,And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.'"
"'All the night long their mournful watch they keep,
And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.'"
"Poor Phaeton," said Harry, as Mary finished the story. "And is that Phaeton with those three bright stars near the river?"
CLOUD OF STAR-MIST IN ORION.CLOUD OF STAR-MIST IN ORION.
CLOUD OF STAR-MIST IN ORION.
"No; that is Orion," replied his sister, "and the three bright stars mark his belt. Under it you can see a small cloud of mist, if you look at it through your opera glass. It is clingingaround one of the faint stars in the sword. This is star-mist, from which other stars are being made, and it looks small only because it is so far away from us; but there is enough star-dust there to make thousands of bright stars. Astronomers called these clouds nebulæ."
"Who was Orion?" asked Harry. "Won't you tell me more about him?"
"He was a mighty hunter, and in the old maps you can see him represented as warding off the attack of the Bull, which is glaring at him with its bright red eye named Aldebaran. A story was told by the Grecians about this bull:
"Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl named Europa, and she was a princess of Phœnicia. One day she was playing with some friends and gathering flowers in a meadow near the seashore. Suddenly a snow-white bull appeared, and the little children were very much afraid. But the princess was not afraid. She made a pretty garland of flowers and placed it around the bull's neck. When it knelt down in front of her as though to thank her, she jumpedon its back, and it ran away with her down to the sea. Plunging under the waves, it swam with her to Crete. The Grecians thought they saw the bull outlined among the stars in the sky, but only its head and shoulders are there."
THE BULL, AND THE PLEIADES.THE BULL, AND THE PLEIADES.
THE BULL, AND THE PLEIADES.
"But there are not any animals really in the sky, are there?" said Harry.
"No," said Mary, laughing at the question; "but if you look at the stars you can imagine you see outlines of bulls and serpents and all kinds of strange animals. Only you have toimagine very much, and this is exactly what the Grecians did.
"In the shoulder of the bull is the pretty little cluster of stars known as the Pleiades."
"What is a cluster of stars?" asked Harry.
A BALL OF SUNS.A BALL OF SUNS.
A BALL OF SUNS.
"Hundreds and thousands of stars forming a family party, as it were; and seen from earth they seem to be closely packed together. But if we could draw near to them, however, we should find that they were very far apart. If you look atthe Pleiades through your opera glass you will see quite a number of little stars, and if you could see it through the large telescope at the Lick Observatory you would be able to count hundreds of stars. When the cluster had its photograph taken, not long ago, six thousand stars were counted, so you might call the Pleiades a 'ball of suns.' There are hundreds of these clusters, or 'family parties,' in the sky—mighty regiments marching across the star-depths."
"What do you mean, sister?" asked Harry in surprise.
"All the stars are moving," replied his sister. "Some in one direction, some in another; but the stars in the Pleiades are all drifting in the same direction.
"The Pleiades were said to be the seven daughters of Atlas, and were so beautiful that Orion pursued them across wood and dale, till the sisters called on Jupiter to help them. He changed them into doves, and afterward placed them among the stars. Orion still seems to be pursuing them among the stars; but, strange tosay, they are drifting toward him now instead of away from him."
ORION, THE GREAT HUNTER.ORION, THE GREAT HUNTER.
ORION, THE GREAT HUNTER.
"Then he will soon catch them," said Harry, laughing at the idea. "I once heard something about the 'Lost Pleiad.' What does that mean?"
"One of the seven stars supposed to represent the sisters does not shine as brightly as the rest, so the Grecians called it the 'Lost Pleiad.'
"Some say the Lost Pleiad is Electra, who hid her face in her hands so that she might not seethe burning of Troy. But she seems to have recovered from her fright, as her star now glows as brightly as the rest. Others said it was Merope, who married a mortal while her sisters married gods.
"An Iroquois legend accounts for the Lost Pleiad by saying it is a little Indian boy in the sky who is very homesick. When he cries he covers his face with his hands and thus hides his light."
"Do tell me about him," said Harry, looking forward to a treat, as he always enjoyed these Indian stories.
"The story is as follows," said Mary:
"Once upon a time seven little Indian boys lived in a log cabin in the woods. Every evening when the stars peeped out of the sky these children would take hold of hands and dance around, while they sang the 'Song of theStars,' and the stars learned to love them. They would often beckon to the little boys, inviting them to come up to the sky; but the children loved their home on earth too well.
"But one day they found fault with everything. The oatmeal was too hot at breakfast, there was an absence of pie at dinner-time; and the distressing news that they were only to have corn and beans for supper was a climax to their 'tale of woe.'
"Meanwhile their mother calmly ate her supper, while her seven little boys looked on in hungry dismay. When supper-time was over they filed slowly and sadly out of the cabin. Their mother felt sorry for them, it is true; but she knew that if she gave in now she would have to give in always. She watched her boys as they danced as usual that evening and sang their song to the stars; and then she hurried into the cabin and cleared away the uneaten corn and beans.
"Alas! she did not hear the song her children sang to the stars. When the stars beckoned asusual to the little boys, inviting them to come up to the sky, they had accepted the invitation. As they danced round and round their heads and their hearts grew lighter, and in a few moments they were soaring like birds through the air. Just then their mother went to the cabin door to tell them it was time to come home; and imagine her horror when she saw her children slowly disappearing in the sky!
"And now every evening the lonely mother gazes at seven bright stars in the sky, which she fondly believes are her seven little boys, but which are really the seven stars known to us as the Pleiades. One star in the group does not shine as brightly as the rest, and this must be one of the little Indians who is homesick."
"I shall never forget that story," said Harry, who had enjoyed every word of it; "and now I wish you would tell me about that very bright star on the other side of Orion. I can only just see it, but it is so beautiful. It is bluish-white, and twinkles so brightly."
"That is Sirius, the brightest star in this partof the sky," replied Mary, "and ever so much larger than the sun."
"What makes it twinkle?" asked Harry.
"When we look at the stars we have to see them through the great ocean of air that surrounds the earth," replied Mary. "Like the Atlantic Ocean, when the ocean of air is disturbed there are waves, and we have to look at the stars through the waves. That is why their light seems to dance about so. When the air is still then the starlight is steady, but when it moves the stars twinkle. If we could go to the moon, where there is not any air, we would not see the stars twinkle."
"Then I should rather stay here," said Harry, "because I like to watch them dancing about. They seem so merry, I am sure they are laughing at us, sister. Is there a story about Sirius?"
"It is part of a group of stars named the 'Great Dog,'" she replied; "and higher up youwill see the 'Little Dog.' These are the hounds that Orion always took with him when he went hunting. They seem to have even followed him to the sky.
THE GREAT DOG.THE GREAT DOG.
THE GREAT DOG.
"Sirius is also known as the Dog-star, because when it was seen by the Egyptians in the east just before dawn it was thought to announce the overflow of the Nile. Therefore the Egyptians watched this star, which warned them, like a faithful dog, of the coming deluge. It was their watch-dog or sentinel.
"Now I am going to tell you about the Twins, two brothers who loved each other dearly while on earth. They were named Castor and Pollux. Castor was killed in battle. Pollux could not bear to remain on earth without him, so Jupiter placed him in the sky next to his brother.
THE HEAVENLY TWINS, CASTOR AND POLLUX.THE HEAVENLY TWINS, CASTOR AND POLLUX.
THE HEAVENLY TWINS, CASTOR AND POLLUX.
"If you look through the glass you can see that Pollux is a golden-yellow star and Castor has a green tinge."
"Are all the stars colored?" asked Harry.
"Yes," replied his sister, "and they are as varied in color as the flowers of the earth. The stars may be called 'The flowers of heaven.' Longfellow says so beautifully:
"'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heavenBlossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.'
"'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heavenBlossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.'
"'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heavenBlossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.'
"'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.'
"Some of the natives of Australia believe that when the flowers die on earth they rise on the winds and float away to the fair fields of heaven, where they flourish forever in immortal beauty. We cannot see the colors of these flowers of heaven very well, on account of the air that surrounds the earth. If it were removed, then the dark sky would seem to be covered with starry flowers of all the colors of the rainbow."
"How beautiful!" said Harry thoughtfully. "How I wish we could see them that way!"
"But even as it is," said his sister, "you can see some of these colors. Look at white Sirius, that sometimes seems to me tinged with blue,and then at red Aldebaran in the eye of the bull, and a creamy star called Capella just near the Twins. So you can see some of the colors. And now a few more words about Castor, which is a double star. That is, it is made up of two bright stars, and they go around each other.
"Professor Ball was once showing the stars through his telescope to some friends, when he pointed out this double star to them. First of all, he told them to note the different colors of the stars, for one was white, the other green. All double stars are of complementary colors. One may be green and the other red, one blue and the other orange.
"Then Professor Ball told his visitors that the stars went round each other.
"'Oh, yes!' said one of the visitors. 'I saw them going round in the telescope.'
"But it was the twinkling that made the stars appear to dance around each other. In reality, he would have had to remain with his eye at the telescope more than a hundred years before hecould have seen the stars go completely around each other."
"I wonder how many stars there are in the sky, sister," said Harry. "Do you think we could count them?"
"I read somewhere," replied his sister, "that the stars are as plentiful as the sands on the seashore. Still, in the whole sky, the number bright enough to be seen without a telescope is only from six to seven thousand in a clear, moonless sky. With an opera glass you can bring the number up to one hundred thousand. A small telescope can show about three hundred thousand, while with a telescope such as the one at the Lick Observatory the number would be nearly one hundred million. But it is possible to photograph the stars, and millions of stars have had their pictures taken. Probably we would never have known anything about them but the camera caught them, and now they are being named and labeled, so that they cannot escape us again. Infact, some of the stars are so far away that if we had not captured them in this way they would have remained hidden to us forever."
"What do you mean, sister?" said Harry, his eyes filled with surprise.
"I mean, dear, that some stars are so far away that their light has not yet reached us. Don't you remember what I told you about Jupiter's moons: that they are so far away that light takes about half an hour in coming from them to the earth. Well, the stars are hundreds of times as far away as Jupiter's moons. So far away are they that even from the nearest—a star seen in the southern hemisphere—light takes four years and four months in reaching us, although light travels more than 186,000 miles a second."
"Look at the Pole Star some night, and you will not see it as it is now, but as it was more than sixty-two years ago. All this time its light has been on its way to Planet Earth. If a planet travels around the Pole Star, or Polaris,as it is sometimes called, and an astronomer on that planet looked at the earth he would not see it as it is now, but as it was more than sixty-two years ago. There are other stars so far away that light takes hundreds of years in coming here. Perhaps they faded out long ago, but the message is still on its way. It does seem strange to think of people who may be living on distant worlds in space, watching our little world, but we need not fear. The earth is so small that it could not be seen at all, even from the nearest star. At that distance Giant Sun would not look quite as bright as Sirius does to us, and giant Planet Jupiter would only appear as a faint speck of light near the sun."
"How far away everything seems to be!" said Harry. "Yet you said just now that we could tell what the stars are made of. How can we do that?"
"The stars are made of iron, copper, zinc, and other such metals, but the heat is so intense that these metals are turned into vapor. You have seen the steam coming from the spout of a kettle when water is boiling, and you know then that the water is scalding hot. But imagine heat so great that masses of iron and copper are not only melted but turned into vapor. Then you have some idea of the intense heat that prevails on the stars. The rains that fall on earth are made up of drops of water, but the rainfalls on the stars must be drops of melting iron, while the clouds that form are sheets of molten metal."
"How wonderful!" said Harry; "and how do we know this, as the stars are so far away?"
"By means of a little instrument known as the spectroscope, or light-sifter. But you must wait till you are a little older before I can explain that to you, as it is something very difficult to understand. At any rate, I can tell you this, that when we want to find out what a star is made ofwe catch a ray of its light and examine it with the light-sifter. As Professor Ball quoted in one of his lectures:
"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,Now we find out what you are,When unto the midnight skyWe the spectroscope apply.'"
"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,Now we find out what you are,When unto the midnight skyWe the spectroscope apply.'"
"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,Now we find out what you are,When unto the midnight skyWe the spectroscope apply.'"
"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Now we find out what you are,
When unto the midnight sky
We the spectroscope apply.'"
"And can you tell how old the stars are?" asked Harry; "because when you were talking about the planets you said some are old and some are young."
"This same little spectroscope tells us that as well, and we can recognize the stars that are in their infancy, and others that are middle-aged or nearly worn-out."
"How strange to think of worn-out stars," said Harry; "yet I suppose they must grow old sometime, just as we do; only I suppose they take ever so much longer growing up."
"Hundreds of years," said Mary, laughing at the idea of grown-up stars. "There are young stars and old stars, and even the star that gives us light and heat will grow cold and dead someday, and not warm its planets any longer. But that will be millions of years hence, long after we are dead and gone."
"So it is all over the heavens. Our little universe is like an island in space. There are other islands like our own, with their millions of stars and star-clusters and star-mist, passing through the periods of youth, middle age, old age, and decay. Our little universe is not eternal. It cannot last forever, but as long as it does we should feel glad that we are here to enjoy it.
"Now, Harry, I really think we have had quite a long ramble in starland for one evening, and I believe two little stars I know need a rest."
"They are a little tired," said Harry, smiling; "two little worn-out stars, sister; and perhaps they do want to let the curtains down over them for awhile."
"I believe they do," said Mary softly; and the stars were hidden by their curtains almost before she had said the words.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, one nightSailed off in a wooden shoe—Sailed on a river of crystal lightInto a sea of dew."Where are you going, and what do you wish?"The old man asked of the three."We have come to fish for the herring-fishThat live in this beautiful sea.Nets of silver and gold have we,"Said Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.The old Moon laughed and sang a songAs they rocked in the wooden shoe,And the wind that sped them all night longRuffled the waves of dew.The little stars were the herring-fishThat lived in the beautiful sea,"Now cast your net wherever you wish,Never afeared are we."So cried the stars to the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.All night long their nets they threwFor the stars in the twinkling foam;Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,Bringing those fishermen home.'Twas all so pretty a tale, it seemedAs if it could not be.And some folks thought 'twas a dream they dreamedOf sailing that beautiful sea.But I shall name you the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,And Nod is a little head,And the wooden shoe that sailed the skiesIs a wee one's trundle-bed.So shut your eyes while mother singsOf wonderful sights that be;And you shall see the beautiful thingsAs you rock in the misty sea,Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.—Eugene Field.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, one nightSailed off in a wooden shoe—Sailed on a river of crystal lightInto a sea of dew."Where are you going, and what do you wish?"The old man asked of the three."We have come to fish for the herring-fishThat live in this beautiful sea.Nets of silver and gold have we,"Said Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.The old Moon laughed and sang a songAs they rocked in the wooden shoe,And the wind that sped them all night longRuffled the waves of dew.The little stars were the herring-fishThat lived in the beautiful sea,"Now cast your net wherever you wish,Never afeared are we."So cried the stars to the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.All night long their nets they threwFor the stars in the twinkling foam;Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,Bringing those fishermen home.'Twas all so pretty a tale, it seemedAs if it could not be.And some folks thought 'twas a dream they dreamedOf sailing that beautiful sea.But I shall name you the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,And Nod is a little head,And the wooden shoe that sailed the skiesIs a wee one's trundle-bed.So shut your eyes while mother singsOf wonderful sights that be;And you shall see the beautiful thingsAs you rock in the misty sea,Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.—Eugene Field.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, one nightSailed off in a wooden shoe—Sailed on a river of crystal lightInto a sea of dew."Where are you going, and what do you wish?"The old man asked of the three."We have come to fish for the herring-fishThat live in this beautiful sea.Nets of silver and gold have we,"Said Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old man asked of the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea.
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old Moon laughed and sang a songAs they rocked in the wooden shoe,And the wind that sped them all night longRuffled the waves of dew.The little stars were the herring-fishThat lived in the beautiful sea,"Now cast your net wherever you wish,Never afeared are we."So cried the stars to the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.
The old Moon laughed and sang a song
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea,
"Now cast your net wherever you wish,
Never afeared are we."
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threwFor the stars in the twinkling foam;Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,Bringing those fishermen home.'Twas all so pretty a tale, it seemedAs if it could not be.And some folks thought 'twas a dream they dreamedOf sailing that beautiful sea.But I shall name you the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
For the stars in the twinkling foam;
Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,
Bringing those fishermen home.
'Twas all so pretty a tale, it seemed
As if it could not be.
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea.
But I shall name you the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,And Nod is a little head,And the wooden shoe that sailed the skiesIs a wee one's trundle-bed.So shut your eyes while mother singsOf wonderful sights that be;And you shall see the beautiful thingsAs you rock in the misty sea,Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,Wynken,Blynken,And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be;
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
—Eugene Field.
—Eugene Field.
BY MRS. S. M. B. PIATT.
Seven little Indian boys were they,Dancing with the moonbeams on a mound,In the wind they all were whirled away,And the fireflies searched the dews around.Seven little Indian stars are they,Seven, and only one, my child, is dim.That's the Singer, their sad stories say;That's the Singer—let us pity him.Oh, the little Singer! (You can seeHe's not shining as the others are.)Once, when all the stars made wishes, heWished he didn't have to be a star.—St. Nicholas, March, 1890.
Seven little Indian boys were they,Dancing with the moonbeams on a mound,In the wind they all were whirled away,And the fireflies searched the dews around.Seven little Indian stars are they,Seven, and only one, my child, is dim.That's the Singer, their sad stories say;That's the Singer—let us pity him.Oh, the little Singer! (You can seeHe's not shining as the others are.)Once, when all the stars made wishes, heWished he didn't have to be a star.—St. Nicholas, March, 1890.
Seven little Indian boys were they,Dancing with the moonbeams on a mound,In the wind they all were whirled away,And the fireflies searched the dews around.
Seven little Indian boys were they,
Dancing with the moonbeams on a mound,
In the wind they all were whirled away,
And the fireflies searched the dews around.
Seven little Indian stars are they,Seven, and only one, my child, is dim.That's the Singer, their sad stories say;That's the Singer—let us pity him.
Seven little Indian stars are they,
Seven, and only one, my child, is dim.
That's the Singer, their sad stories say;
That's the Singer—let us pity him.
Oh, the little Singer! (You can seeHe's not shining as the others are.)Once, when all the stars made wishes, heWished he didn't have to be a star.
Oh, the little Singer! (You can see
He's not shining as the others are.)
Once, when all the stars made wishes, he
Wished he didn't have to be a star.
—St. Nicholas, March, 1890.
—St. Nicholas, March, 1890.
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
When Eve had led her lord away,And Cain had killed his brother,The stars and flowers,—the poets say,—Agreed with one anotherTo cheat the cunning tempter's artAnd show the world its duty,By keeping on its wicked heartTheir eyes of love and beauty.A million sleepless lids, they say,Will be at least a warning;And so the flowers will watch by day,The stars from eve to morning.On hills and prairies, fields and lawn,Their dewy eyes upturning,The flowers still watch from reddening dawnTill western skies are burning.Alas! each hour of daylight tellsA tale of shame so crushing,That some turn white as sea-bleached shells,And some are always blushing.And when the patient stars look down,On all their light discovers,The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown,The lips of lying lovers,They try to shut their saddening eyesAnd in the vain endeavorWe see them twinkling in the skies,And so—they wink,—forever.—Taken from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table.
When Eve had led her lord away,And Cain had killed his brother,The stars and flowers,—the poets say,—Agreed with one anotherTo cheat the cunning tempter's artAnd show the world its duty,By keeping on its wicked heartTheir eyes of love and beauty.A million sleepless lids, they say,Will be at least a warning;And so the flowers will watch by day,The stars from eve to morning.On hills and prairies, fields and lawn,Their dewy eyes upturning,The flowers still watch from reddening dawnTill western skies are burning.Alas! each hour of daylight tellsA tale of shame so crushing,That some turn white as sea-bleached shells,And some are always blushing.And when the patient stars look down,On all their light discovers,The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown,The lips of lying lovers,They try to shut their saddening eyesAnd in the vain endeavorWe see them twinkling in the skies,And so—they wink,—forever.—Taken from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table.
When Eve had led her lord away,And Cain had killed his brother,The stars and flowers,—the poets say,—Agreed with one another
When Eve had led her lord away,
And Cain had killed his brother,
The stars and flowers,—the poets say,—
Agreed with one another
To cheat the cunning tempter's artAnd show the world its duty,By keeping on its wicked heartTheir eyes of love and beauty.
To cheat the cunning tempter's art
And show the world its duty,
By keeping on its wicked heart
Their eyes of love and beauty.
A million sleepless lids, they say,Will be at least a warning;And so the flowers will watch by day,The stars from eve to morning.
A million sleepless lids, they say,
Will be at least a warning;
And so the flowers will watch by day,
The stars from eve to morning.
On hills and prairies, fields and lawn,Their dewy eyes upturning,The flowers still watch from reddening dawnTill western skies are burning.
On hills and prairies, fields and lawn,
Their dewy eyes upturning,
The flowers still watch from reddening dawn
Till western skies are burning.
Alas! each hour of daylight tellsA tale of shame so crushing,That some turn white as sea-bleached shells,And some are always blushing.
Alas! each hour of daylight tells
A tale of shame so crushing,
That some turn white as sea-bleached shells,
And some are always blushing.
And when the patient stars look down,On all their light discovers,The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown,The lips of lying lovers,
And when the patient stars look down,
On all their light discovers,
The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown,
The lips of lying lovers,
They try to shut their saddening eyesAnd in the vain endeavorWe see them twinkling in the skies,And so—they wink,—forever.
They try to shut their saddening eyes
And in the vain endeavor
We see them twinkling in the skies,
And so—they wink,—forever.
—Taken from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table.
—Taken from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table.
"Darling, I am feeling so tired this evening, won't you sit beside my bed and hold my hand in yours while you tell me about the stars?"
His sister Mary suggested lighting the lamp and reading a story, but he held her hand with gentle force, saying:
"Do not light the lamp. Leave the curtain up so that I can see the stars from my window, and tell me in your own words that story you told me of a star the other day—Dickens' story of a star. Don't you remember, sister?"
Still holding his little hand in hers, and giving it a loving pressure, she rested her head on the pillow beside his, and began, in low soft tones:
"There was once a beautiful bright star that shone down upon the home of a little boy and girl who wondered at its light. They learned toknow it so well that every evening the one who saw it first would say, 'I see the star,' and before they went to sleep at night they would say 'Good-night' to the star, and, 'God bless the star!'
"But the little girl, while she was still very young, became very weak and feeble, so that she was unable to go to the window and look at the star, so the brother would stand there alone and watch for it. As soon as he saw it he would turn round to his sister, and say, 'I see the star,' and the little sister would answer gently, 'God bless my brother and the star!' One evening the brother looked at the star alone, for his little sister had passed away to her home among the stars. That was a sad and lonely evening for the brother, and at night he dreamed of his sister. Her face seemed to be looking at him from the bright star, and he could see a pathway of light reaching from it to his room.
"Along the pathway were people passing from this earth to the stars. Angels waited to receive them, and as they reached the star people cameout to welcome them. Kissing their friends tenderly, they went away together down avenues of light. But there was one who waited patiently near the entrance of the star and asked the guide who led the people thither if her brother had not yet come.
"'Not yet,' he replied kindly, and as she turned sadly away the little brother reached out his arms toward her, and said, 'Here I am sister; I am coming to you.'
"As she turned her beaming eyes on him, the star was shining into the room, and he could see its rays of light through his tears. From that hour the child looked on that star as his future home, where he would some day meet his angel sister again.
"And he waited, oh! so patiently, and the years rolled slowly by. He grew to manhood, and still the star shone down upon him at night. Then he grew to be an old man with gray hair and wrinkled face, and his steps were slow and feeble. Others had gone before him to the star. A little brother who died while he was young—hismother—his daughter—and now surely his own time had come.
"One night he lay upon a bed of sickness, and as his children gathered around him he suddenly cried out, as he had long ago, 'I see the star.' Then they whispered to each other, 'He is dying,' and he heard them, and said: 'I am. My age is falling from me like a mantle, and I move toward the star as a child. And, O my Father, now I thank thee that the star has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me!'
"And next day the star was shining, and it still shines, upon his grave."
Harry had been lulled to sleep by the sound of his sister's voice, and in the dim light Mary could see that he was smiling in his dreams. Were his dreams, she wondered, about Stories of Starland?