Don’t leave me alone, little star!
For I am down here, and you are so far.”
Other children had been put to bed hours before, and told that angels would guard their beds through the night. The little ones thought they came down on ladders, from some place they were taught to call heaven. Janet knew nothing of warm beds, good food, or fine clothes—of heaven, or of angels that came down on ladders.
There was a rustling of the dried leaves on the bank, near the water. Janet held her breath in fear, but the sound died away. Then she continued to whisper to the star, “You have talked to me so many nights, blinking at me through the window. I’m coming!”
The child of ignorance, poverty, and despair stood on a stone to be nearer the star. The wind had risen, and wrapped the girl’s black hair around her like a mantle. Her arms were stretched out to the star, and her eyes were fixed with unutterable love on the shining orb. And who shall say that there were no angels, waiting for her to ascend on high?
Silently the child stood there, with clasped hands and wide, staring eyes, until the star went out, as she thought. Then she looked down into the water, and saw the star there, for the clouds had parted once more, and it seemed nearer to her than it did up above.
As the clouds rolled away, the silence of the night was broken by crackling twigs and loosened stones rolling down the steep side of the hill. A splash in the water, which seemed to smile, as it rippled in circle after circle, until it again settled into stillness; and the star shone brilliantly as ever, but told nothing of what it had seen.
Standing on the avenue after midnight was a watchful policeman. Out of the park came a mongrel dog, which ran up to him and with a piteous whine put his paws upon him and looked up into his face.