it was half-way up the curve of the sky. Then it
stopped short. Klara watched it, her eyes bulging out of her head.
In all her experience she had never seen such a surprising thing.
And while she watched, another remarkable thing happened. A great
door in the moon opened suddenly and there on the threshold stood a
little old lady. A strange little old lady she was--a little old lady
with short red skirts and high, gayly-flowered draperies at her
waist, a little old lady with a tall black, sugar-loaf hat, a great
white ruff around her neck and little red shoes with bright silver
buckles on them--a little old lady who carried a black cat perched on
one shoulder and a broomstick in one hand.

"The little old lady stooped down and lifted something over the
threshold. Klara strained her eyes to see what it was. It looked
like a great roll of golden carpeting. With a sudden deft movement
the little old lady threw it out of the door. It flew straight
across the ocean, unrolling as swiftly as a ball of twine that
you've flung across the room. It came nearer and nearer. The farther
it got from the moon, the faster it unrolled. After a while it
struck against the shore right under Klara's window and Klara saw
that it was the wake of the moon. She watched.

"The little old lady had disappeared from the doorway in the moon
but the door did not close. And, suddenly, still another wonderful
thing happened. The golden wake lifted itself gradually from the
water until it was on a level with Klara's window. Bending down she
touched it with both her soft little hands. It was as firm and hard
as if it had been woven from strands of gold.

"'Now's my time to run away from my cross mother,' Klara said to
herself. 'I guess that nice old lady in the moon wants me to come
and be her little girl. Well, I'll go. I guess they'll be sorry in
this house to-morrow when they wake up and find they're never going
to see me again.'

"Opening the window gently that nobody might hear her, she stepped
on to the Wake of Gold. It felt cool and hard to her little bare
feet. It inclined gently from her window. She ran down the slope
until she reached the edge of the sea. There she hesitated. For a
moment it seemed a daring thing to walk straight out to the moon
with nothing between her and the water but a path of gold. Then she
recalled how her mother had sent her to bed and her heart hardened.
She started briskly out.

"From Klara's window it had look