“While I think of it,” said Uncle Henry, “I want to tell you that sometimes you may find a very bright star in a constellation where it doesn’t seem to belong. If you watch it for a few nights you will see that it moves. It isn’t a star at all, but a planet or “wanderer.” Sometime I’ll show you how to know all the planets by sight and name. You will never see them except in the zodiac constellations, so they need not confuse you. And now I think all of us had better go downstairs and get warm before we go to bed. Besides, we want to leave a little to do to-morrow night, and there are only two constellations left now.”
“Only two?” cried the children in disappointment.
“Only two that we can see well,” assured Uncle Henry.
“Well,” said Peter, “I guess we’d better have the Society adjourn. I move we adjourn.”
“Second the motion,” said Paul, with true parliamentary solemnity.
“Carried,” murmured Betty, who was beginning to get sleepy in spite of herself.
THIRD WINTER EVENING
THE SKY CLOUDED OVER, BUT PETER FOUND THE STAR PEOPLE HIDING IN THE ALMANAC—PAUL FOUND HIS HEAD WAS THE WORLD—AND THE “SOCIETY” FOUND OUT ABOUT THE SWASTIKA AND THE ZODIAC, AND HOW YOU TELL WHEN A DIPPER IS A PLOUGH AND WHEN IT’S A WAGON