The Crescent Moon by Unknown
page 34 of 58 (58%)
page 34 of 58 (58%)
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Branches clash together in the forest, and the leaves rustle in
the wild wind, the thunder-clouds clap their giant hands and the flower children rush out in dresses of pink and yellow and white. Do you know, mother, their home is in the sky, where the stars are. Haven't you seen how eager they are to get there? Don't you know why they are in such a hurry? Of course, I can guess to whom they raise their arms: they have their mother as I have my own. [Illustration: From a drawing by Asit Kumar Haldar--see cmerchant.jpg] THE MERCHANT Imagine, mother, that you are to stay at home and I am to travel into strange lands. Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing fully laden. Now think well, mother, before you say what I shall bring for you when I come back. |
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