"And will the Thunder Bird really lay its egg upon the moon? Such a hard egg, too Will it-really-drop a pound weight of steel upon the head of the Man in the Moon?... Oh de-ar Mammy Moon-what a shock she'll get." The girl, the fifteen-year-old Camp Fire Girl-all but sixteen now-to whom Mammy Moon had been the fairy foster-mother of her childhood, ever since she lay, wakeful, in her little cot, looking up at that silvery face of a burnt-out satellite, picturing it the gate of Heaven and her mother's spirit as bathed in the soft, lunar radiance behind it, caught her breath with a wild little gasp whose triumph was a sob upon the still laboratory air.