"Tomorrow if the weather prove favorable, if not, on the first
fair night."

Then indeed I set my house in order. Here was something
definite and trustworthy. First an eclipse, then a book,
and yet I pitied the moon as I walked home that night. She
came up the heavens so round and radiant, so glorious in her
majesty, so confident in her strength, so sure of triumphal
march across the shining sky; not knowing that a great black
shadow loomed right athwart her path to swallow her up. She
never dreamed that all her royal beauty should pass behind a
pall, that all her glory should be demeaned by pitiless
eclipse, and her dome of delight become the valley of
humiliation! Is there no help? I said. Can no hand lead her
gently another way? Can no voice warn her of the black shadow
that lies in ambuscade? None. Just as the young girl leaves
her tender home, and goes fearless to her future,--to the
future which brings sadness for her smiling, and patience for
her hope, and pain for her bloom, and the cold requital of
kindness, or the unrequital of coldness for her warmth of love,
so goes the moon, unconscious and serene, to meet her fate.
But at least I will watch with her. Trundle up to the window
here, old lounge! you are almost as good as a grandmother.
Steady there! broken-legged table. You have gone limping
ever since I knew you; don't fail me tonight. Shine softly,
Kerosena, next of kin to the sun, true monarch of mundane
lights! calmly superior to the flickering of all the fluids,
and the ghastliness of all the gases, though it must be
confessed you don't hold out half as long as you used when
first your yellow banner was unfurled. Shine softly tonight,