e will show you all
the pretty flowers in the grass, and tell you their names, and you will
just love them,--all of them.'

So Marusha took the pot off the fire and then they all went out
together, Youshko with his arm round Snegorotchka to shield her from the
wind. But they had not gone far when the warm perfume of the flowers was
wafted to them on the breeze, and the child trembled like a leaf. They
both comforted her and kissed her, and then they went on towards the
spot where the flowers grew thickly in the grass. But, as they passed a
clump of big trees, a bright ray of sunlight struck through like a dart
and Snegorotchka put her hand over her eyes and gave a cry of pain.

They stood still and looked at her. For a moment, as she drooped upon
the old man's arm, her eyes met theirs; and on her upturned face were
swiftly running tears which sparkled in the sunlight as they fell. Then,
as they watched her, she grew smaller and smaller, until, at last, all
that was left of Snegorotchka was a little patch of dew shining on the
grass. One tear-drop had fallen into the cup of a flower. Youshko
gathered that flower--very gently--and handed it to Marusha without a
word.

They both understood now. Their darling was just a little girl made of
snow, and she had melted away in the warmth of the sunlight.

THE BURIED MOON

AN ENGLISH FAIRY TALE

In my old Granny's days, long, long--oh, so long ago, Carland was just a
collection of bogs. Pools of black water lay in the hollows, and little
green rivulets scurried away here and there like long lizards trying to
escape from their tails, while every tuft that you trod upon would
squirt up at you like anything. Oh! it _was_ a nice place to be in on a
dark night, I give you my word.

Now, I've heard my Granny say that a long time before her day the Moon
got trapped and buried in the bog. I'll tell you the tale as she used to
tell it to me.

On some nights the beautiful Moon rose up in the sky and shone brighter
and brighter, and the people blessed her because by her wonderful light
they could find their way home at night through the treacherous bogs.
But on other nights she did not come, and then it was so dark that the
traveller could not find his way; and, besides, the Evil Things that
feared the light--toads and creepy, crawly things, to say nothing of
Bogles and Little Bad People--came out in the darkness to do all the
harm they could, for they hated the people and