while great thoughts stirred his breast. Nay, what could not the moon tell us? The life of the world is a story to him. To-night I do not see you, old friend! and I have no picture to draw in remembrance of your visit. But as I looked dreamily up at the clouds, there appeared one beam from the moon — but it was soon gone, the black clouds swept over it. Still it was a greeting, a friendly evening greeting, to me from the moon.
NINTH EVENING
The air was clear again; several evenings had passed, while the moon was in its first quarter. Then I got a new idea for a sketch: hear what the moon told me. "I have followed the polar birds and the swimming whales to the east coast of Greenland. Gaunt ice-covered rocks and dark clouds overhung a valley where willows and bilberry bushes stood in thick bloom, and the scented lychnis diffused its fragrance; my light was dim and my crescent pale as the leaf of the water-lily which has been floating for weeks upon the waters after being torn away from its stem. The corona of the northern lights burned with a fierce light. The rays spread out from its wide circle, over the heavens like whirling columns of fire playing in green and red lights. The inhabitants were assembled for dancing and merry-making, but they had no wonder to bestow on the glorious sight, so accustomed to it were they. 'Let the souls of the dead play at ball with the walrus's head as much as they like,' they thought, according to their superstitions. Their attention was entirely centred on the dancing and singing. A Greenlander without his fur coat stood in the middle of the circle, with a small drum in his hand, on which he played and at the same time sang a song in praise of seal hunting; the chorus answered him with 'Eia, eia, a!' and at the same time hopped round the circle in their white fur coats looking like polar bears. They wagged their heads and rolled their eyes in the wildest way. Then they held a mock
