a little," suggested Mrs.
Merryweather.

"The float! The float!" shouted the boys and girls. There was a
snatching up of pillows and wraps, and the whole family trooped down to
the float, where they established themselves in a variety of picturesque
attitudes. Again it was a wonderful night; the late moon was just rising
above the dark trees, no longer the full round, but still brilliant
enough to fill the world with light.

"This has been a wonderful moon!" said some one.

"Yes," said Gerald; "it is quite the last thing in moons, not the
ordinary article at all. We don't have ordinary moons on this pond. Who
made that highly intellectual remark?"

"It was I," said Bell, laughing; "and I maintain, Jerry, that this moon
_has_ been a very long, and a very--well, a very splendid one. Just
think! not a single cloudy evening till this one; and now it clears off
in time to give us our moonlight hour before bed-time."

"The harvest moon is always long," said Mr. Merryweather. "Bell is
perfectly right, Jerry."

"Strike home!" said Gerald, baring his breast with a dramatic gesture.
"Strike home!

"'There's no more moonlight for poor Uncle J.,
For he's gone whar de snubbed niggers go.'"

"I was just going to propose singing," said his mother; "but before we
begin, suppose we do honor to this good moon, that has treated us so
well. Let every one give a quotation in her honor. I will begin:

"'That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn.'

Shelley. I am a cloud, be it understood!"

"I should hardly have guessed it," said Mr. Merryweather. "My turn? I'll
go back to Milton:

"'Now glowed the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.'"

"Oh, I say!" murmured Gerald; "that is a peach!"

"Jerry," said his mother, plaintively, "have you _no_ adjectives, my
poor destitute child? I can imagine few things less peach-like than that
glorious passage. But never mind! Jack, it is your turn."

"'The gray sea and the long black land,
And the yellow half-moon large and low--'"

said Jack, half under his breath.

"It i