“Let us take a firm stand. Why should we go on shining, shining through countless ages? We are not appreciated. We never receive any praise. There are so many of us and our light is so feeble, who cares whether we shine or not? The Moon comes along and takes away our glory; let her do all the work then. Why should we waste our light trying to outshine the Moon and the Sun? Unless we can be as brilliant as they and receive as much praise, let us not shine at all.”
Each Star blinked a sullen assent, and gradually each little light flickered and went out. The Dog Star barked and the Great Bears growled—the low mutterings became a loud rumble, and the Heavens for once were dark, save for a faint light that still gleamed away off in the north. Seeing the feeble light still shining, all the Stars rushed to it, surrounding the feeble Star that persisted in shining, and jeered at her folly.
“Put out your light, you foolish one. Do you hope to vie with the Sun or the Moon with that feeble flame of yours? What use can you be in this great space of darkness?”
“I do not know,” replied the Star, faintly, “but I can go on shining and do my best, though my light is small and goes but a little way. I do not envy the Moonlady her glory. Is it not a great thing that she can shine so radiantly upon the Earth and make so many happy? And if there were no Sun, what would the poor little Flowers do, and the Birds and the Beasts? My little light cannot do much good, but I can do my best to keep it bright, and if it reaches to Earth but faintly I shall be grateful. I had rather light one soul onward and upward than to have a choir of Angels sing my praises; I had rather one person should be glad he had seen my rays, than to be crowned with a crown of brilliant jewels and never have made anyone glad; I had rather one tearful soul should look to me and find comfort in my steady light than to have a million people bow down to me in worship of my beauty; I had rather one soul should be truly sorry when my light goes out than that a thousand should praise me for my brilliancy and not know when I ceased to shine; I had rather a baby’s face looked up at me and smiled and called my name than to be praised in a poet’s song and know he was paid so much a line for it; I had rather send one faint ray of hope into some troubled heart than to light the World’s Great White Way; I had rather shine on for ages unnoticed than to shine with borrowed light and be afraid of being blown out; I had rather
” But the little Star found herself all alone, and as she looked about her she saw that each Star was in its accustomed place, and that each light was more brilliant than it had ever been before. Even the dark clouds had vanished, and a little child looked up at the Sky from her bedroom window and said, “O, mother dear, see how beautiful are the stars to-night! They are God’s jewels, set in His Crown of Glory, aren’t they? If we are very good shall we be beautiful stars some day and shine for Him?”
And the Stars looked down and smiled Good-night. And the brightest of all the Stars were the Pleiades.
Drawn by Hy. S. Watson.