you have to do is to draw a circle round the biggest soup plate you can
find; and then you take away the soup plate, and you paint in the eyes
and the nose and the mouth, and there you are! You can't do much more
than that with three paints and a brush that's got hardly any hairs, can
you?"
"Yes, you can," retorted the wymp, "you can paint the sun, and that's
ever so much better than painting the moon--nasty, silly, chilly thing!"
"Oh, but you can't paint the sun when you've only got three paints,"
objected Chubby. "It takes ever so many more paints than that to make it
shine properly; and even then, it doesn't always."
"Shine!" repeated the wymp. "Who said anything about shining? When I say
the sun, I mean the other side of the sun, of course. _That_ doesn't
shine,--knows better, indeed!"
He seemed so hurt about it that Chubby hastened to pacify him. "I'm very
sorry," she said. "Of course, I should like to paint your side of the
sun very much, but it is a little difficult when I haven't ever been
there, isn't it?"
"Perhaps it is," admitted the wymp; "but if that is all, I'll take you
there this very minute. Will you come?"
Chubby looked round; and there was Jerry still gazing up at the star
with the long tail, that was causing so much commotion among the
countries of the sky. Just then, it reached the moon and went straight
into it with a big splash; and Jerry heaved a deep sigh.
That decided Chubby. "If you please," she said, turning to the wymp in a
great hurry, "I think we would rather go to the moon."
The wymp instantly flew into the most violent passion. "What!" he
exclaimed, shaking all over with indignation. "You would sooner go to
the moon than the back of the sun? Well, I _am_ sorry for you."
Chubby was just going to be frightened, when Jerry came and put his arm
round her protectingly. "You see," he explained to the wymp, "it's not
the moon we want, it's the kite. And the kite has gone to the moon,
unfortunately. I suppose I am glad it has gone," he added rather
doubtfully, "but I do wish it had waited to take me with it."
"Oh, well," said the wymp, calming down a little, "if you are quite sure
you don't _want_ to go to the moon, I shall have the greatest pleasure
in taking you there. I'll call a comet at once." He put his fingers to
his mouth and blew a whistle that was long enough to reach the countries
of the sky. "Now I come to think of it," he continued thoughtfully, "it
is a very good thing you did not want to go to Wympland, because we
should have been obliged to wait until the morning."
"Why couldn't we go to-night?" asked Jerry.
"Because there isn't a Wympland to go to," answered the wymp, promptly.
"When the sun goes down it takes the back of itself with itself, and
there isn't a Wympland again till next morning. I shouldn't be here
now, if I hadn't missed the last sunbeam this evening. That is the worst
of living in a place that disappears every night."
"Oh, but it doesn't disappear really," said Chubby, who wanted to show
that she knew a little geography; "the sun is shining somewhere else at
this very moment, only we can't see it."
"Rubbish!" said the wymp, scornfully. "Don't you believe everything
you're told about the sun! Who said it didn't disappear, eh? Has any one
ever gone after it to see?"
"N-no," said Chubby, doubtfully, "but--"
"That proves it doesn't go on shining, then," said the wymp,
triumphantly. "There's plenty of inquisitive people who'd have gone
after the sun long ago, if it hadn't the sense to disappear every night.
It must have some peace, you know, if it's got to come up smiling again
the next morning."
"Do the wymps disappear every night, too?" asked Jerry.
"Of course they do," answered the wymp. "Don't you?"
"I didn't know we did," said Jerry, a little bewildered. "I thought we
only went to sleep."
"Ah, you do that first," said the wymp. "Then you disappear."
"No, we don't," said Chubby, positively. "We shouldn't have dreams if we
disappeared."
"You certainly wouldn't have any dreams unless you did disappear,"
chuckled the wymp.
"Then what about to-night?" demanded Jerry. "Do you mean to say we have
disappeared now?"
The wymp sighed. "Some people never will know when they're not there,"
he complained. "But here is our comet; jump in, or else we shall be
late."
Down swooped the great shining comet, and there it lay across the road,
waiting for them to mount. The children climbed on to its broad
glittering tail and held tightly to each other, while the wymp mounted
in front of them and stood like the man at the wheel, with his hand on
the comet's head; then up they flew at a terrific pace, right through
the wonderful blue darkness that stretched all round them. Far above was
the great land of light that lay round the moon; but the country of the
stars came in between, and the stars were still so far off that they had
not even begun to look like real stars.
"Afraid of the dark?" asked the wymp over his shoulder.
"Oh, no," said Chubby. "I am only afraid of the dark you get at home
when the candle is put out. This is a nice, friendly kind of darkness,
and candles wouldn't make any difference to it."
"I don't know so much about that," said the wymp; "if you had the
steering to do, you wouldn't mind a candle or two to help you."
"Do you steer by the points of the compass?" asked Jerry, eagerly. Some
one had given him a compass on his last birthday, and he had steered by
it ever since. Indeed, he had arrived late at school several times,
through steering his way by the points of the compass.
"Certainly not," said the wymp; "when you are sailing on a comet, you
steer by the points of the comet, of course." Just then, he gave a sharp
turn to the points of the comet, and it sailed right out of the blue
darkness and took them into the dim mysterious greyness of the country
of the stars.
"They _are_ like real stars," murmured Chubby, for she had begun to have
serious doubts whether the stars she had painted on the kite were not
wrong after all. It was very comforting to find that the stars that were
whizzing past them in hundreds and thousands looked just like the stars
she had been accustomed to see on Christmas trees, and had such sharp
points that it would not have been at all pleasant to run against one of
them by mistake. Indeed, the wymp had as much as he could do to steer
through the country of the stars without coming into collision with
them, although the comet did not make half so much commotion in the sky
as Jerry's kite had done. But then, Jerry's kite had never been trained
to be a comet, and that made all the difference.
It grew lighter and lighter as they came nearer the moon, and even the
stars began to look pale in the white light that was shining so close to
the edge of their country. The stars were growing fewer, too, for stars
naturally prefer to shine in a place where they can be seen, and just
here, at the edge of their country, they could hardly be seen at all.
Then the wymp gave another turn to the points of the comet, and it
glided gently from the country of the stars into the pale white country
of the moon.
"It's like being inside a great flame that isn't hot," whispered Chubby.
Even the wymp had to admit that the country of the moon had something in
its favour. "For those who like light," he allowed, "the moon is all
very well. For my part, I prefer Wympland, where there isn't any light
at all. You can't say that of any other country on either side of the
sun!"
"I don't want to say it," objected Chubby; "I am very glad there _is_
some light in my country."
"But there isn't," retorted the wymp. "There's only other people's light
in your country! Where would you be, if you didn't borrow bits of light
from the countries of the sky, eh?"
Chubby thought it would be wiser to change the conversation. "If you
please," she said politely, "can you tell me when we shall get to the
moon?"
"Why," laughed the wymp, "we are in the moon now!"
Chubby looked round her in bewilderment. "But where are the eyes and the
nose and the mouth?" she asked.
The wymp shook his head. "I am afraid," he said gravely, "that you must
have found them in the soup plate. Perhaps Jerry knows where they are."
But Jerry was looking everywhere for something that was far more
important. Some people might want to come all this way to look for the
man in the moon, but for his part he intended to find the biggest kite
in the village, the kite that had taken him six half-holidays to make.
"Do you think we shall find it soon?" he asked impatiently.
Nobody answered him, for just then the comet came to such a sudden
standstill that all three of them were nearly jerked off into the air.
It was not the comet's fault, however, for right in its way was Jerry's
kite; and it was lucky for everybody, that night, that there was not an
extremely bad accident in the countries of the sky.
"Why don't you look where you are going?" asked the kite, in just the
flippant fly away sort of tone one would expect from a kite.
Jerry was so astonished at being addressed in this impudent manner by a
thing he had made with his own hands, that he did not know what to
reply. The comet, however, was a comet of a few words; and all it did
was to put its head down and rush straight at Jerry's kite. There is no
doubt that in another minute there would have been a terrific battle in
the middle of the moon, if a strange, clear voice from beyond had not
spoken just in time to stop it.
"Who is daring to make all this commotion in my country?" said the
voice.
"Hullo!" muttered the wymp, suddenly; "I was expecting that. Good-bye,
children; I'm off!" And pointing his hands downward, he took a dive from
the head of the comet and disappeared in the direction of the country of
the stars.
At the same instant, out from the pale white distance of the country of
the moon glided a tall figure, as white and delicate and shimmering as
the light that surrounded it.
"Is it--can it be the man in the moon?" whispered Chubby to the boy
beside her.
Then the figure came closer, and they saw that it was a wonderful,
mysterious-looking, white witch-woman.
"I am the Lady of the Moon," she said, in the same clear, cold voice.
"Snow and stillness and space are wherever I go; when I smile, I make
the whole world beautiful, but my smile takes the colour away from the
flowers and the ripple away from the water and the warmth away from the
sunshine."
She looked round, and her eye lighted on Jerry's kite. "What is that
creature doing in my country?" she demanded.
All the impudence seemed to have gone out of the biggest kite in the
village, for it lay there trembling at the feet of the Lady of the
Moon, and had not so much as a word to say for itself. Jerry, however,
summoned up courage to answer for it. After all, it was through him that
the kite was there, and he naturally felt bound to defend it.
"If you please," he said, "it is my kite. I made it, all by myself,--it
took six half-holidays; and Chubby painted the moon and the stars on
it."
"I am afraid," said Chubby, hurriedly, "that the moon is not very much
like the moon, but it was the best I could do with three paints and a
brush that hadn't any hairs. The stars are right," she added anxiously.
The Lady of the Moon smiled contemptuously. "Stars, indeed!" she
observed. "What does it matter how the stars are painted? The moon is
far more important, and you have made a regular muddle of that! And who
told you children that you might come into my country, I should like to
know?"
"The wymp brought us," explained Jerry. "He was here a minute ago, but
he has just left."
"No doubt he has," said the Lady of the Moon, with a little laugh that
made them shiver. "Wymps know better than to come in my way. I can turn
their laughter into hoar-frost, and they don't like that. As for you,
unless you want to be frozen tight to the middle of the moon for the
rest of your lives, you had better make haste home again."
Chubby was only too anxious to be off, for she had no wish to spend the
rest of her life with some one who made people shiver whenever she
laughed. Jerry, however, did not mean to have his journey to the moon
for nothing.
"Please, may I take my kite back with me?" he asked boldly. "I want to
show the other boys and girls that it did fly to the moon after all."
"That's all very well," objected the kite, who had stopped trembling and
become impudent again; "but I don't want to go back among a lot of girls
and boys who do not know how to appreciate me. When a fellow has once
been a comet, you cannot expect him to end his days as a common kite."
"Oh, well," said the Lady of the Moon, gathering her mantle closely
round her and stepping away from them, "settle that among yourselves,
only please go out of my country first. For my part, I must go and put
the finishing touches to that hoar-frost of mine before dawn."
She had hardly finished speaking when a faint gleam of pink pierced the
white light around her and touched the edge of her mantle. She gave a
shrill cry instantly, and waved her arms about her in the greatest
excitement.
"Go, go, go! Dawn is coming, and you will be swallowed up in the setting
of the moon," she screamed at them. "Go, go, go!"
Chubby began to feel tearful, for it is not pleasant to be told that one
is going to be swallowed up in anything. But Jerry had a sudden
inspiration.
"Jump, Chubby, jump!" he shouted, seizing her by the arm and springing
away from the comet. Chubby must have done as she was told, for the next
minute she found herself sitting beside him, on the top of the biggest
kite in the village. As for the comet, it was only too anxious to get
back to the place where it could shine and be seen; so it took a great
dive down into the country of the stars, just as the wymp had done, and
they never saw it again.
"Now," said Jerry sternly to his kite, "you've just got to take us home
straightway without any more nonsense! If you want to stay and be
swallowed up, we don't. You can come back again and be a comet for the
rest of your days, for all I care; but I'm determined that you shall
show the village first that you know how to fly. Now, down you go!"
Evidently, the kite felt that there was some sense in Jerry's words, for
it made no further objections, but sailed swiftly out of the country of
the moon just in time to escape being swallowed up. The downward journey
was much simpler than the one of the night before, for the sun was
rising as fast as it could, and the stars were disappearing so rapidly
that there were hardly any of them left to get in the way. This was a
very good thing, for, as I said before, Jerry's kite had not been
trained to be a comet, and it takes a good deal of steering to get
through the countries of the sky without an accident on the way.
Chubby was hungry enough to remember her fairy cake; and as it was
nearly breakfast time, of course it tasted of milk and porridge and eggs
and bacon. But Jerry refused to touch a mouthful. He was busy thinking
of what the other boys and girls would say, when they saw him come
sailing home on his kite.
The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were singing, and the
children were laughing on their way to school, when Jerry and Chubby at
last reached home on the biggest kite in the village.
"Oh, oh!" cried all the boys and girls, rushing up to them in great
excitement. "Here's Jerry and Chubby been sailing about on the biggest
kite in the village! Where have you been, Jerry?"
Jerry smiled in a superior manner, and waved them all back with his
hand.
"What a fuss you do make, to be sure!" he observed. "Didn't I tell you
my kite was going to the moon?"
Then Jerry went home to breakfast; but Jerry's kite sailed back to the
countries of the sky, and it has been a comet ever since.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Minor typographical errors have been corrected.
Both "hillside" and "hill-side" were used in this text. This has been
retained.
Both "some one" and "someone" were used in this text. This has been
retained.
There was one occurrence of "WillowHerb" in the text. This was changed
to "Willow-Herb", as it appeared as such multiple times.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Other Side of the Sun, by Evelyn Sharp