3. The Man in the Moon

“Go out into the forest and gather sticks for the fire,” said the wood-cutter’s wife to her husband. “To-morrow will be Sunday, and we have no wood to burn.” “Yes,” he said, “I will go.” He went to the forest, but instead of getting the fire-wood, he sat by the bank of a stream and fished all day, and late at night went home without any wood. His wife was already asleep and did not know what he had done. Early the next morning he crept out to the forest, intending to bring wood before she would be astir. He cut the wood, and began carrying the bundle of sticks on his back, when a voice behind him said, “Put the wood down.” “I can’t,” he said, “my wife cannot cook dinner without it.” “You will have no dinner to-day,” said the voice. “My wife will not know I did not bring wood last night,” he said. “Put the wood down! It is Sunday, the day when men should rest from their work.” “Sunday or Monday,” said the man, “it is all one to me.” “Then,” said the voice, “if you will not keep Sunday on earth, you shall keep Monday in the heavens, and you shall carry your wood until the Judgment Day.”

The man could not tell how it was, but he felt himself being lifted up, up, up, sticks and all, till he was in the moon. “Here you shall stay,” said the voice. On any clear night, when you look up at the moon, you can still see a great shadow, like an old man with wood on his shoulder.