d of his
burial, and of when it might all come to pass. Certainly sooner than
he expected--for all at once down he came from the top of the press,
fell on the ground, and was broken to pieces. Then the pennies
hopped and danced about in the most amusing manner. The little ones
twirled round like tops, and the large ones rolled away as far as they
could, especially the one great silver crown piece who had often to go
out into the world, and now he had his wish as well as all the rest of
the money. The pieces of the money-pig were thrown into the
dust-bin, and the next day there stood a new money-pig on the
cupboard, but it had not a farthing in its inside yet, and
therefore, like the old one, it could not rattle. This was the
beginning with him, and we will make it the end of our story.

WHAT THE MOON SAW

INTRODUCTION

It is a strange thing, when I feel most fervently and most deeply,
my hands and my tongue seem alike tied, so that I cannot rightly
describe or accurately portray the thoughts that are rising within me;
and yet I am a painter; my eye tells me as much as that, and all my
friends who have seen my sketches and fancies say the same.

I am a poor lad, and live in one of the narrowest of lanes; but
I do not want for light, as my room is high up in the house, with an
extensive prospect over the neighbouring roofs. During the first few
days I went to live in the town, I felt low-spirited and solitary
enough. Instead of the forest and the green hills of former days, I
had here only a forest of chimney-pots to look out upon. And then I
had not a single friend; not one familiar face greeted me.

So one evening I sat at the window, in a desponding mood; and
presently I opened the casement and looked out. Oh, how my heart
leaped up with joy! Here was a well-known face at last--a round,
friendly countenance, the face of a good friend I had known at home.
In, fact, it was the MOON that looked in upon me. He was quite
unchanged, the dear old Moon, and had the same face exactly that he
used to show when he peered down upon me through the willow trees on
the moor. I kissed my hand to him over and over again, as he shone far
into my little room; and he, for his part, promised me that every
evening, when he came abroad, he would look in upon me for a few
moments. This promise he has faithfully kept. It is a pity that he can
only stay such a short time when he comes. Whenever he appears, he
tells me of one thing