RUBY’S VISITOR. 105

years. We hada famine. I grew so small I got lost one day
in my own coat; could n’t find my way out for four hours
and a half.”

“ Dear me!” said Ruby.

“ Yes, you are very kind not to laugh, nor anything of the
sort,” he continued, with an absent air,—‘“‘ very, indeed;
and it is very good in you to let me warm myself at your
fire,— very. On the whole, I think it is exceedingly good.”

“Why, I should n’t think of doing anything else,” said
Ruby, who had quite recovered from her fright; “ but do tell
me what you eat in the moon, when it is n’t a famine!”

The old man twirled his silver buttons, felt of the tassel
on his cap, gave his head a little shake, and looked solemnly
into the fire. “Depends on the season,— sand-cakes with
hail-sauce are about as good as anything in their time. I
have an excellent recipe for a sea-shell pudding; and for
breakfast, I take fried snowballs pretty much the year
round.”

“Oh!” said Ruby. “ Well, I should like to know if you
were n’t cold, taking such a long journey in that hat.”

“ Q,”’ said the Man in the Moon, “I’m used to it!”

“ But what do you wear it for?” persisted Ruby.

At this he looked very wise, and stared into the fire again,
but said nothing. Ruby did not dare to repeat the question ;
so she stood with her eyes very black, looking at the funny,
fat little figure and solemn white face beside her.

“ Are there really little ladies up there,” she broke out at
; ee