We took a trip. The yellow and gold cricket led the way. “It is the call of the harvest moon,” he said to me in a singing whisper. “We are going up to the moon towns where the harvest moon stacks the cornshocks on the sky.”
We came to a little valley in the sky. And the harvest moon had slipped three little towns into that valley, three little towns named Half Moon, Baby Moon, and Silver Moon.
In the town of Half Moon they look out of the doors and come in at the windows. So they have taken all the doorbells off the doors and put them on the windows. Whenever we rang a door-bell we went to a window.
In the town of Baby Moon they had windows on the chimneys so the smoke can look out of the window and see the weather before it comes out over the top of the chimney. And whenever the chimneys get tired of being stuck up on the top of the roof, the chimneys climb down and dance in the cellar. We saw five chimneys climb down and join hands and bump heads and dance a laughing chimney dance.
In the town of Silver Moon the cellars are not satisfied. They say to each other, “We are tired of being under, always under.” So the cellars slip out from being under, always under. They slip out and climb up on top of the roof.
And that was all we saw up among the moon towns of Half Moon, Baby Moon and Silver Moon. We had to get back to the haystack so as to get up in the morning after our night sleep.
“This time of the year I always remember that November,” said the old man, Feed Box, to his daughter, Sky Blue.
And Sky Blue said, “I am going to sleep in a haystack sometime in November just to see if a yellow and gold cricket will come with a singing whisper and take me on a trip to where the doorbells are on the windows and the chimneys climb down and dance.”
The old man murmured, “Don’t forget the cellars tired of being under, always under.”
