Seven points to a star,
That might puncture the moon; and a steeple
Would finish it quite!
How we'd miss it at night,
For the moon means so much to some people!"
There was another verse to the song, and Bob, leaning drowsily against Notta's chest, thought he had never heard anything so perfectly beautiful. He had never sat on a real lap before, nor had a song sung especially for him. So the little boy snuggled down contentedly, his eyes straying to the moon, just visible above the tree tops. Why, there was a string on it, a bright silver string, and a little, old man was holding to the end, just as Notta had sung!
"Fast asleep," muttered the clown, holding Bob a bit tighter. And so he was fast asleep and dreaming of the sandman's balloon. Notta meant to keep awake, for he was not so sure there were no bears in this dark forest, but the day's experiences had so tired him that, in a short time, he was sound asleep himself.
No sooner had Notta's eyes closed, than a little, bent fairyman came tip-toeing from behind the tree. He held his lantern close to Notta's face.
