k, narrow garret stairs leading
from the third story into a small garret under the roof, and many
and many a time do I go up these narrow stairs, and again up to the
scuttle-window in the roof, open it, and seat myself on the top step
or on the roof itself. Here I can look over the house-tops, and even
over the tree-tops, seeing many things of which I may perhaps tell you
at some time; but to-night we are to look at the sunset.

Can you play that you are up here with me, looking past the houses,
past the elm-trees and the low hills that seem so far away, to where
the sun hangs low, like a great red ball, so bright that we can hardly
look at it? Watch it with me. Now a little part has disappeared; now
it is half gone, and in a minute more we see nothing but the train of
bright clouds it has left behind.

Where did it go?

It seemed to slip down over the edge of the world. To-morrow morning,
if you are up early, you will see it come back again on the other
side. As it goes away from us to-night, it is coming to somebody who
lives far away, round the other side of the world. While we had the
sunshine, she had night; and now, when night is coming to us, it is
morning for her.

I think men have always felt like following the sun to the unknown
West, beyond its golden gate of setting day, and perhaps that has led
many a wanderer on his path of discovery. Let us follow the sun over
the rolling earth.

The sun has gone; shall we go, too, and take a peep round there to see
who is having morning now?

The long, bright sunbeams are sliding over the tossing ocean, and
sparkling on the blue water of a river upon which are hundreds of
boats. The boats are not like those which we see here, with white
sails or long oars. They are clumsy, square-looking things, without
sails, and they have little sheds or houses built upon them. We will
look into one, and see what is to be seen.

There is something like a little yard built all around this boat;
in it are ducks,--more ducks than you can well count. This is their
bedroom, where they sleep at night; but now it is morning, and they
are all stirring,--waddling about as well as they can in the crowd,
and quacking with most noisy voices. They are waking up Kang-hy, their
master, who lives in the middle of the boat; and out he comes from the
door of his odd house, and out comes little Pen-se, his daughter, who
likes to see the ducks go for their breakfast.

The father opens a gate or