the women, with copper buttons in their black hair, and decked
out in clothes dyed with indigo, drive the heavily-laden oxen, on
whose backs slumber the naked black children. A negro leads a young
lion which he has bought, by a string. They approach the caravan; the
young merchant sits pensive and motionless, thinking of his beautiful
wife, dreaming, in the land of the blacks, of his white fragrant lily
beyond the desert. He raises his head, and----" But at this moment a
cloud passed before the Moon, and then another. I heard nothing more
from him this evening.

TWENTY-FIRST EVENING.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE GIRL'S TROUBLE.]

"I saw a little girl weeping," said the Moon; "she was weeping over
the depravity of the world. She had received a most beautiful doll as
a present. Oh, that was a glorious doll, so fair and delicate! She did
not seem created for the sorrows of this world. But the brothers of
the little girl, those great naughty boys, had set the doll high up in
the branches of a tree, and had run away.

"The little girl could not reach up to the doll, and could not help
her down, and that is why she was crying. The doll must certainly have
been crying too; for she stretched out her arms among the green
branches, and looked quite mournful. Yes, these are the troubles of
life of which the little girl had often heard tell. Alas, poor doll!
it began to grow dark already; and suppose night were to come on
completely! Was she to be left sitting there alone on the bough all
night long? No, the little maid could not make up her mind to that.
'I'll stay with you,' she said, although she felt anything but happy
in her mind. She could almost fancy she distinctly saw little gnomes,
with their high-crowned hats, sitting in the bushes; and further back
in the long walk, tall spectres appeared to be dancing. They came
nearer and nearer, and stretched out their hands towards the tree on
which the doll sat; they laughed scornfully, and pointed at her with
their fingers. Oh, how frightened the little maid was! 'But if one has
not done anything wrong,' she thought, 'nothing evil can harm one. I
wonder if I have done anything wrong?' And she considered. 'Oh, yes!
I laughed at the poor duck with the red rag on her leg; she limped
along so funnily, I could not help laughing; but it's a sin to laugh
at animals.' And she looked up at the doll. 'Did you laugh at the duck
too?' she asked; and it seemed as if the doll shook her head