Two hours of starlight, then solemnly uprose the round moon and flooded all the glade, draping the whispering trees in a blue glare, beautifully etherealizing them.
Sorrow bringeth sleep.
"Good-night, Rolly! Say your prayers," murmured Peggy.
There were stars in the sky. There were stars too that flitted from bush to bush, while the winds made murmuring music among the lofty branches.
Peggy was repeating to herself lines that she had read that very day:
..."the firefly Wah-wah-tay-see,
Flitting through the dusk of evening,
With the twinkle of its candle,
Lighting up the brakes and bushes.
* * * * *
Wah-wah-tay-see, little firefly,
Little, flitting, white-fire insect,
Little dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little candle.
Ere upon my bed I lay me,
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids."
————
The forest was unusually silent to-night, but ever and anon might be heard some distant growl showing that the woods sheltered the wildest beasts. Or an owl with mournful cry would flap its silent wings as it flew across the clearing.
But nothing waked those tired and weary sleepers.
So the night wore on and on. The moon had reached the zenith, and was shining now with a lustre that almost rivalled daylight itself.