"The funniest circumstance in relation to an eclipse, happened to me," said Mrs. Wyndham. "When I was a very small child, I thought that quite as great a miracle was about to happen, as the Indians did. You must know that there came to Philadelphia a certain famous race-horse named Eclipse, of whose speed great marvels were told. Handbills about him were thrown into the house, and I thought he must really be a wonderful animal. Just at that epoch, I heard my father say something about an eclipse that night, and the moon in connection with it. My imagination was instantly fired. "Did you say, father, that Eclipse would go over the moon? why, can that be true?" "Oh yes, my dear, the eclipse is really going over the moon: if you wish it, you can stay up till nine o'clock, to see it." "Thank you, thank you, I should like to very much. But I don't see how it can be!" "More wonderful things than that happen, my child: you'll understand it better when you are older; but you shall see it to-night, if you are not too sleepy." "No danger of that—I wouldn't miss it for the world!" "How much interest little Lucy seems to feel in the eclipse, mother!" said my father. "We must certainly let her stay up."
Night came on, and the show began. The best seat at an upper window was reserved for me, and I looked at the moon constantly, afraid that if I turned away my eyes for one moment the wonderful event might take place without my observing it. All were interested in my seeing it. "Lucy, do you see it, dear I do you see the moon getting dark?" "Oh yes, I see that, but I don't see Eclipse." "Why, that's the eclipse—when the dark shadow goes over the moon, that is an eclipse of the moon." "But I don't see the horse jumping over the moon, at all." "The horse? what do you mean, child?" "You said that Eclipse was to go over the moon, but I can't see him in the least!"
"Oh, Auntie! were you, really, such a green child as that?"
"Yes, it is a literal fact. I thought it a most astonishing thing that it could happen; but since my father so gravely said it would, my faith was equal to the demand made upon it. When I found it was only something about the shadow of the earth falling on the moon, I went to bed, grievously disappointed and quite disgusted: I felt somewhat as the amiable Smith did, that I had been sold."
"Ah, Auntie, we children could not be taken in so now, I can tell you!" said Lewis.
"I know it," replied his aunt, smiling. "I am quite aware that the age of faith has passed away, and that republican institutions have made the young ones as wise and incredulous as their elders. I don't half like it myself!"