At this every head was turned toward the moon; and then a man’s face, full-bearded and wrinkled, but with a jolly look upon the rough features, appeared sharply defined upon the moon’s broad surface.
“So I’m to decide another dispute, eh?” said he, in a clear voice. “Well, my dears, what is it this time?”
“We wish you to say what mortal shall wear the magic cloak which I and the ladies of my court have woven,” replied Queen Lulea.
“Give it to the first unhappy person you meet,” said the Man in the Moon. “The happy mortals have no need of magic cloaks.” And with this advice the friendly face of the Man in the Moon faded away until only the outlines remained visible against the silver disk.
The queen clapped her hands delightedly.
“‘GIVE IT TO THE FIRST UNHAPPY PERSON YOU MEET.’”
“Our Man in the Moon is very wise,” she declared; “and we shall follow his suggestion. Go, Ereol, since you are free for a time, and carry the magic cloak to Noland. And the first person you meet who is really unhappy, be it man, woman, or child, shall receive from you the cloak as a gift from our fairy band.”
Ereol bowed, and folded the cloak over her arm.
“Come, my children,” continued Lulea; “the moon is hiding behind the tree-tops, and it is time for us to depart.”