THE VIRGIN IS TOO BUSY FEEDING HER SKY POULTRY, SO CASSIOPEIA GETS THE UKELELE TO PLAY

Betty, in spite of her pretended lack of curiosity about the scorpion, was down on the beach the next evening ahead of the other members of the Society of Star-Gazers. Uncle Henry found her in the twilight, sitting cross-legged before the sand-drawing of Scorpio.

As she searched the southern sky to find the constellation, she was singing Uncle Henry’s verses about the archer and Scorpio over and over, to a tune of her own improvising.

The boys had made bows and arrows from green saplings during the morning and had raced about for some time with “Rags,” in search of giant scorpions to shoot at. They discovered them in the most unexpected objects—trees, rocks, and even boats. The hunt had been accompanied by a war chant, with the scorpion verses for words. It was a faint echo of this that Betty was crooning to herself now.

As Uncle Henry approached her she looked up at him and said,

“Aren’t there any ladies among the star people, Uncle Henry? You told about the lyre that they play on, but you haven’t shown any of them to us.”

“Well, Betty,” said Uncle Henry, sitting down beside her, “there are several ladies in our star country, but only two of them are in our sight in the summer time. Let’s get the boys and we’ll find both the ladies and take a vote to decide which of them shall have your lyre-ukelele to play on.”

Betty called, in her high little voice, for Peter and Paul to hurry, and they raced down from the porch with “Rags” in tow.

“Uncle Hen,” asked Peter, “‘Rags’ wants to know if there aren’t any more dogs in the sky?” “Sure,” said Uncle Henry, “sky folks are very fond of dogs. We’ve found the two that belong to the herdsman. Besides them, there are two others, but we can’t see them ’til next winter. And, of course, there’s Cerberus, the ugly, monstrous three-headed dog that Hercules killed. We’ll find him to-night.”

“Oh, that’s great!” said Peter, and he and Paul settled down with “Rags” between them. “Rags” looked expectantly at Uncle Henry, who said,

“But first I’ve promised Betty to find the sky ladies that we can see now, and let one of them have the ukelele.”

“Rags’” ears dropped and he lost interest. Peter and Paul, however, remembering Betty’s temper of the previous evening, said,

“Of course, ladies first.”

“All right,” said Uncle Henry, “everybody find Arcturus in the hem of BoÖtes’ kilt. Get that? Well, then, draw a line in the sand, Betty, from BoÖtes’ right shoulder through Arcturus, and extend the line about as far again. (10) Then look in the sky at that point for a bright star.”

“I see it!” cried Betty. The boys picked it out next moment.

“Well,” said Uncle Henry, “it doesn’t look much like an ear of corn, does it? That’s what it is, though; an ear of corn held in the Virgin’s left hand. Its name, Spica, means just that. The Virgin is scattering grains from the ear of corn with her right hand, to attract the birds of Starland—the swan, the eagle, and the dove. We’ll find the eagle a little later on, but the dove is so far south that we never see it well. The boys and girls in South America see Noah’s dove, but we can’t.”

“Now,” continued Uncle Henry, “follow along northward from Spica to a point just below the big lion’s tail. There is the Virgin’s head. Between it and Spica are two fairly bright stars. The one nearest Spica is the Virgin’s shoulder. Her left arm hangs at her side, from the shoulder to Spica, while her right arm extends in the direction of the great bear’s tail. Put down the pebbles as fast as you find the stars, Betty.”

When Betty and Uncle Henry had finished the Virgin, or Virgo, as she is called in Latin, she looked like this:

Then Uncle Henry added the little half circle of small pebbles, with one larger one near the centre, shown in the picture just at the left of BoÖtes. (11)

“What is that, Uncle Henry?” asked all the children at once.

“Do you see it in the sky?” he asked,

The children quickly found it.

“What does it look like, then?”

Peter thought it was a handful of corn-grains from Virgo’s hand.

Betty said, “A necklace.”

“That’s nearest right,” said Uncle Henry. “It is called Corona Borealis, or the Northern Crown. That brightest star is named Gemma, so you see it might be a gem in a necklace, too. The Virgin looks as if she was going to bend over and pick it up. Perhaps she will some day.”

“I think,” said Paul, “that she’s too busy a person to give Betty’s ukelele to. Who’s the other lady?”

“I quite agree with you,” said Uncle Henry. “The Virgin seems very much occupied. Well, there is another lady in Starland. Her name is Cassiopeia, and since she has nothing to do but sit in a chair, perhaps Betty will let Cassiopeia have the ukelele to play. Virgo won’t be jealous, either, because she is clear across the sky from Cassiopeia; too far away to see. A long line drawn across the sky from Spica through the pole star in the little bear’s tail-tip will reach Cassiopeia. (12)

“She is easy to find, because she looks just like a big letter W. Does anybody see it?”

The trio all found the W very quickly. You will, too, for it is very conspicuous in the northeastern sky in July and August. Uncle Henry showed the children that Cassiopeia’s W had to be turned upside down, into an M, before she could be made to sit in her chair properly.

Here is how Cassiopeia looked:

“She hasn’t a blessed thing to do. We’ll give the lyre to her,” said Betty.

“I am glad to hear that you are going to give the ukelele to Cassiopeia,” said Uncle Henry. “Perhaps it will make her feel happier. She has had a rather sad life. Long ago Cassiopeia was queen of Æthiopia, and was very beautiful. But she was so proud of her good looks that she boasted herself prettier than the lovely sea-nymphs. This made Neptune, the god of the sea, so angry that he sent one of his worst sea-monsters to make trouble along the shore of Cassiopeia’s country.

“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Neptune demanded Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda as a sacrifice.

“So you see it seems good to see Cassiopeia getting a little justice done her, if it’s only the present of a ukelele.”

“Teacher says,” piped up Betty, “that the lady’s statue on top of the Court House is ‘Justice.’ What does she have that little pair of scales in her hand for, Uncle Henry?”

“The scales are to help her in weighing the good and bad that people do,” explained Uncle Henry, “and speaking of scales, there’s a pair of them in the sky, too. If you will look between the Scorpio and the Virgin you will find the scales. (13) They are called Libra, which is Latin for ‘balance.’ There are four main stars in Libra, which make an oblong.”

This is how Libra, the balance, looked when the children and Uncle Henry had finished drawing it:

“Now,” said Peter, with an air of having shown great patience, “we want to see that three-headed dog. I forgot his name.”

“Cerberus,” said Uncle Henry, “But in order to find him we’ll have to find Hercules, the great strong man, for Hercules has Cerberus fast by one of his throats and is beating at his three ugly heads with a big club. At the same time, Hercules has his left foot on the dragon’s head, so you see he is kept busy.”

“Where do we begin?” asked Paul, impatiently.

“Draw a line,” said Uncle Henry, “from Vega in the ukelele to Gemma in the Northern Crown; the Virgin’s necklace we found a while ago, you know.”

Paul did it. (14)

“Now,” directed Uncle Henry, “look about half-way between, and you’ll find Hercules’ legs. His left leg is nearly straight, but his right has the knee bent a little. Hercules’ legs and the sides of his body and his belt make sort of an H shape.”

“Oh, I see it!” exclaimed Peter. “Shall I make him, Uncle Hen?”

“Sure, go ahead, Pete; and the rest of you watch for Hercules’ head and arms.”

When the children had put down pebbles to represent all the stars in Hercules, and had connected them with lines in the sand, Hercules looked like this:

“Oh,” broke out Betty, excitedly, “he’s got the ugly dog in his left hand!”

Then she added the three heads of Cerberus, and it was Uncle Henry’s turn to draw in the outline of Hercules, and complete the picture, like this:

“You have probably read,” said Uncle Henry, “about the twelve great labors Hercules performed. He had to be very strong to do them, but of course he was born that way. They say he even rose up out of his cradle and strangled two serpents that the goddess Juno sent to destroy him.”

The Society of Star-Gazers became very enthusiastic about Hercules after he was all finished. So will you when you see how big and strong and beautiful he is, almost straight over your head in the summer sky just after dark. You will enjoy him more if you lie on your back to look, as the Society of Star-Gazers did on the beach.

While they were all flat on the sand, looking up into the great blue-black, star-sprinkled bowl, Uncle Henry made up this poem, and recited it before the Society adjourned for the night: