"That? That is the Moon, my boy. Has it excited you so much?"
"Yes; I have been trying to dodge it. But you had better look to the wheel," I cried.
He ran up to the telescope, and I heard him exclaim, "Donnerwetter!" half under his breath. But with a few careful turns of the wheel he found the planet again, and moved him to the right part of the field. Meanwhile the Full Moon shone on us with its pale glimmer. But a thin rim of it next to the Earth gleamed brightly with rich silver light.
"I thought you said we had started in the dark of the Moon. I thought it was behind the Earth," I interposed.
"That is the New Moon just emerging. It will probably not be seen on the Earth until to-morrow night, but as we are at a greater distance we see it first," replied the doctor.
"But that is not a New Moon, it is a Full Moon, which should not be seen for fourteen days yet," I objected.
"Pardon me, it is a New Moon," he insisted. "That inner rim of brightness is all the sunlight she reflects. The paler glimmer is Earth-light, which she reflects. When she is really a Full Moon, she will be perfectly dark to us."
Then I explained to him the first umbrella appearance, and its gradual swelling and final disappearance.
"Rainbow colours around the edge and a gradual changing of the shape, you say? That means refraction. The Earth's atmosphere has been playing tricks on you. The umbrella of dull red light was a refracted view of the Moon before she really came into sight. Rays of light from the hidden Moon were bent around to you. Then, as she gradually moved from behind the Earth, her appearance was magnified by the convex lens formed by the atmosphere, bent over that planet. Presently it diminished and went out altogether, you say?"
"Yes, but that was because I steered away from her," I replied.