The sun went down in golden state. Then, turning to the land, we watched the moon rising, in softer radiance, but no less wonderful and glorious. Slowly the great orb rose, turning from pale gold to purest silver. The sea darkened, and presently a little wind came up, and began to sing with the murmuring waves. We sang, too, some of the old German student-songs which our mother had taught us, and which were our favorite ditties. They rang out merrily over the water:--
_Die Binschgauer wollten wallfahrten geh’n!_ (The Binschgauer would on a pilgrimage go!)
_Was kommt dort von der Hoh’?_ (What comes there over the hill?)
Then Julia told us a story. Perhaps it was the wonderful story of Red-cap,--a boy who met a giant in the forest, and did something to help him, I cannot remember what. Whereupon the grateful giant gave Red-cap a covered silver dish, with a hunter and a hare engraved upon it. When the boy wanted anything he must put the cover on, and ask the hunter and hare to give him what he desired; but there must be a rhyme in the request, else it could not be granted. Red-cap thanked the giant, and as soon as he was alone put the cover on the dish and said,--
“Silver hunter, silver hare, Give me a ripe and juicy pear!”
Taking off the cover, he found the finest pear that ever was seen, shining like pure gold, with a crimson patch on one side. It was so delicious that it made Red-cap hungry; so he covered the dish again and said:
“Silver hunter, silver rabbit, Give me an apple, and I’ll grab it!”
Off came the cover, and, lo! there was an apple the very smell of which was too good for any one save the truly virtuous. It was so large that it filled the dish, and its flavor was not to be described, so wonderful was it! A third time the happy Red-cap covered his dish, and cried,--
“Hunter and hare, of silver each, Give me a soft and velvet peach!”
And when he saw the peach he cried out for joy, for it was like the peaches that grew on the crooked tree just by the south door of the greenhouse at Green Peace; and those were the best trees in the garden, and therefore the best in the world.
The trouble about this story is that I never can remember any more of it, and I cannot find the book that contains it. But it must have been about this time that we were hailed from the opposite side of the creek; and presently a boat was run out, and came over to the sand beach and took us off. The people at the Poor Farm, which was on a hill close by, had seen the group of Crusoes and come to our rescue. They greeted us with words of pity (which were quite unnecessary), rowed us to the shore, and then kindly harnessed the farm-horse and drove us home. German Mary was loud in her thanks and expressions of relief; our mother also was grateful to the good people; but from us they received scant and grudging thanks. If they had only minded their own business and let us alone, we could have spent the night on a sandbank. Now it was not likely that we ever should! And, indeed, we never did.