"Once," said the Singing Mouse, "I was at the side of a little
stream. Grasses grew all about, and small plants and flowers.
Beyond the shores of the little stream arose a forest, wide and
dark, into which the eye could reach but a little way.
"As I stood near the little stream, there arose from the grass
and flowers two small moths, soft and dainty, beautiful, and
very white, covered also with a white dust or powder which was
so light that did they but receive a touch they must lose some
of this soft white powder and so be injured, so gentle and
tender were they.
"These two moths, soft and white and silent, arose in the air
and circled one about the other, rising for a time, then
falling, but ever circling one about the other. It seemed that
perhaps they spoke one to the other, but if that were true it
was in speech so small that not even I could hear it. They
passed over the tops of the grasses and flowers, up and up,
until they reached the tops of the trees, where they seemed very
small.
"I do not know why these moths no longer cared for the grasses
and flowers. But I saw them, circling, cross over the little
stream, high in the air, and then pass on directly into the wide
dark forest. For a moment they appeared, a small spot of white,
against the black shadows of the forest across the stream; then
they went on, straight into the shadows, until I could no longer
see this small spot of white they made.
"It is in this way," said the Singing Mouse, "that human souls
pass through life. To me, who can see them, they look small and
delicate and white; and they circle one about another; and they
pass on, into the deep forest."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The House of Dreams]
[Illustration]