THE Child did not very well know what to think of all this: he went
thoughtfully home and laid himself on his little bed; and all night long
he was wandering about on the ocean, and among the stars, and over the
dark mountain. But the moon loved to look on the slumbering Child as he
lay with his little head softly pillowed on his right arm. She lingered
a long time before his little window, and went slowly away to lighten the
dark chamber of some sick person.
As the moon’s soft light lay on the Child’s eyelids, he fancied he sat in
a golden boat, on a great, great water; countless stars swam glittering
on the dark mirror. He stretched out his hand to catch the nearest star,
but it had vanished, and the water sprayed up against him. Then he saw
clearly that these were not the real stars; he looked up to heaven, and
wished he could fly thither.
But in the meantime the moon had wandered on her way; and now the Child
was led in his dream into the clouds, and he thought he was sitting on a
white sheep, and he saw many lambs grazing around him. He tried to catch
a little lamb to play with, but it was all mist and vapour; and the Child
was sorrowful, and wished himself down again in his own meadow, where his
own lamb was sporting gaily about.
Meanwhile the moon was gone to sleep behind the mountains, and all around
was dark. Then the Child dreamt that he fell down into the dark, gloomy
caverns of the mountain, and at that he was so frightened, that he
suddenly awoke, just as morning opened her clear eye over the nearest
hill.