"
"I wouldn't cry," declared the Child.
"No? But I don't want you to interrupt me any more."
"Of course not," said the Child politely. Uncle Andy eyed him
searchingly, and then decided to go on.
"Away up north," he began abruptly--and paused to light his pipe--"away
up north, as I was saying, it was just midwinter. It was also
midnight--which, in those latitudes, is another way of saying the same
thing. The land as far as eye could see in every direction was flat,
dead white, and smooth as a table, except for the long curving windrows
into which the hard snow had been licked up by weeks of screaming wind.
Just now the wind was still. The sky was like black steel sown with
diamonds, and the stars seemed to snap under the terrific cold. Suddenly
their bitter sparkle faded, and a delicate pale green glow spread itself,
opening like a fan, till it covered half the heavens. Almost immediately
the center of the base of the fan rolled itself up till the strange light
became an arch of intense radiance, the green tint shifting rapidly to
blue-white, violet, gold, and cherry rose. A moment more and the still
arch broke up into an incalculable array of upright spears of light,
pointing toward the zenith, and dancing swiftly from side to side with a
thin, mysterious rustle.
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