Library of Information on Women's Issues

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valleys with it. Then again he took it out and looked at it. "Oh, my beautiful! my heart's own!" he cried, "may I not keep you?" He opened his hands sadly. "Go!" he said. "It may happen that in Truth's song one note is like yours; but I shall never hear it." Sadly he opened his hand, and the bird flew from him forever. Then from the shuttle of Imagination he took the thread of his wishes, and threw it on the ground; and the empty shuttle he put into his breast, for the thread was made in those valleys, but the shuttle came from an unknown country. He turned to go, but now the people came about him, howling. "Fool, hound, demented lunatic!" they cried. "How dared you break your cage and let the birds fly?' The hunter spoke; but they would not hear him. "Truth! who is she? Can you eat her? can you drink her? Who has ever seen her? Your birds were real: all could hear them sing! Oh, fool! vile reptile! atheist!" they cried, "you pollute the air." "Come, let us take up stones and stone him," cried some. "What affair is it of ours?" said others. "Let the idiot go," and went away. But the rest gathered up stones and mud and threw at him. At last, when he was bruised and cut, the hunter crept away into the woods. And it was evening about him. He wandered on and on, and the shade grew deeper. He was on the borders now of the land where it is always night. Then he stepped into it, and there was no light there. With his hands he groped; but each branch as he touched it broke off, and the earth was covered with cinders. At every step his foot sank in, and a fine cloud of impalpable ashes flew up into his face; and it was dark. So he sat down upon a stone and buried his face in his hands, to wait in the Land of Negation and Denial till the light came. And it was night in his heart also. Then from the marshes to his right and left cold mists arose and closed about him. A fine, imperceptible rain fell in the dark, and great drops gathered on his hair and clothes. His heart beat slowly, and a numbness crept through all his limbs. Then, looking up, two merry wisp lights came

Wicking Sleepwear	Night Sweats
Hot Flashes	Menopause