“What’s the matter?” asked the Earth.
“I’m tired,” said the Moon.
“All right,” said the Earth. “My shadow is always ready for you to hide behind when you want it.”
“You don’t mind, do you?” asked the Moon.
“I’m highly flattered,” said the Earth. “It is a great honor. Lots of people come out and look at us both at such times. For people call it an Eclipse.”
“What do they mean by that?” asked the Moon.
“They call it a total eclipse,” said the Earth, “when there is no Moon to be seen at all.”
“My! And they use words like that—total Eclipse—just to say that the Moon can’t be seen. Well, well, well, they do pay me a great compliment.”
The Moon talked to the Earth for a long time and the Earth’s shawl or shadow kept the moon from sight for several hours.
Before long the Moon grew a little restless. “I think I must be leaving,” he said.
“Sorry to see you go,” said the Earth. “You call on me so seldom. Your visits are so rare.”
“Oh,” laughed the Moon, “you are so nice to me, but where did you pick up that last word? Was it running around down on the earth where you heard it as it walked over you?”
“Words don’t run around,” said the Earth, “but the people who use them do. That word means that your visits are so few. I’d like to see you oftener.”
“Thank you,” said the Moon. “Perhaps because I come only now and again it is better, for you see it is more of a treat.”
“Maybe that is so,” said the Earth. “I always enjoy looking at you from afar, but I do thoroughly enjoy your calls.”
“Then I’ll come some time again,” said the Moon.