The Little Boy And The Stars

One day he said to his mothcr, "Mamma, what are the stars?" "They are a flock of golden sheep that God drives forth at night to feed in his pasture in the sky. " "H'm!" said the little boy, turning to his father. "Papa, what are the stars?" "They are redhot nails that hold the sky fast to the bottom of God's throne and keep it from crashing down upon tmr heads. " "H'm!" said the little boy, turning to his mother's sister. "Auntie, -what re the stars?" "The sky is the Virgin's pincushion, and the stars are the heads of the pins Which she" - "H'm!" said the little boy, turning to his father's brother. "Uncle, what are the stars?" "They are the eyes of truant boy angels, peeping through holes in the big bine tent that incloses what they cali a circus and we cali the planetary system. " "H'm!" 6aid the little boy, turning to the old woman who told hun somany wonderful stories of wonderful tbings dnring the blue midsummer nights. "Nnrse, what are the stars?" "Well, " answered the old woman, "some say that the stars are the tears of the dead, which turn into gold and glow. But I say" - "Yes?" said the little boy eagerly. "I say that only God knows. " The little boy looked disappointed. Then he raised his head and gazed ■teadily upward. "I suppcwe, " he said, af ter a eilence, "that I shall never know what the stars teally are." "Ñot until yon go among them. And may the hour of your Koine be late, mr