In a distant corner of the court-yard lay an old comet, with his tail comfortably curled up around him. He was too old to go out, so he enjoyed himself at home in a quiet way. Beside him stood a very young comet, with a very short tail. He was quivering with excitement, and occasionally cast sharp impatient glances at the Comet Master.
“Will he never call me?” he exclaimed, but in an undertone, so that only his companion could hear. “He knows I am dying to go out, and for that very reason he pays no attention to me. I dare not leave my place, for you know what he is.”
“Ah!” said the old comet, slowly, “if you had been out as often as I have, you would not be in such a hurry. Hot, tiresome work, I call it. And what does it all amount to?”
“Ay, that’s the point!” exclaimed the young comet. “What does it all amount to? That is what I am determined to find out. I cannot understand your going on, travelling and travelling, and never finding out why you do it. I shall find out, you may be very sure, before I have finished my first journey.”
“Better not! better not!” answered the old comet. “You’ll only get into trouble. Nobody knows except the Comet Master and the Sun. The Master would cut you up into inch pieces if you asked him, and the Sun—”
“Well, what about the Sun?” asked the young comet, eagerly.
“Short-tailed Comet No. 73!” rang suddenly, clear and sharp, through the court-yard.
The young comet started as if he had been shot, and in three bounds he stood before the Comet Master, who looked fixedly at him.
“You have never been out before,” said the Master.
“No, sir!” replied No. 73; and he knew better than to add another word.