Linda Goodman--Cancer the Crab
The Cancer Woman
There's no doubt about it. In the beginning, you'll have trouble deciding if your Cancerian girl is a gentle moon maiden or a wild loony-bird. In the end, you still won't know.
During the rainy season, she'll drown you in her sorrows. When the sun peeks through the clouds again, she'll double you up with laughter, and touch you with tenderness. Experiencing her moods is like watching one of those old-time silent movies where hysterical slapstick humor comes on just before the Perils of Pauline thriller, and the entire show is backed by the tinny piano in the pit. Sometimes the tune is lively and gay; then it gets melancholy and blue. The music is variable, to suit the occasion, never stagnant or monotonous. So it is with the Cancer girl. She's just a little mad, slightly sad and superbly imaginative. She also knows how to save the shekels.
Naturally, you can't look under her mattress until after you've married her. Modesty is a thing with her. But you can safely make a bet she probably has an old sock there, stuffed with green bills and silver coins. She may have an extravagant ascendant or Moon sign, but even so, she'll have a quarter or two stuck under the potted azalea, or salted away in the folds of that lace tablecloth she got for her birthday ten years ago and still hasn't ever used. Open one of her books of poetry, and a wrinkled dollar bill may fall out, blinking at the light of day. A Cancer female can go on a sudden spending spree when she's been hurt and needs balm for her injured ego, but most of the time her outgo will lag considerably behind her income. Your savings account may be of unusual interest to her, and money may be one of her favorite topics of conversation. She won't look down on you if you don't have it, so long as you're the kind of man who tries to get it. She'll help you make it and save it, but you're on your own when it comes to wasting it. Don't go too far, or she'll see your mutual security slipping away. When you give this girl a terribly expensive gift, and she says, "You shouldn't have done it," let me tell you, she means it.
To take her mind off insurance, mortgages, rent, bills and her Christmas club balance at the bank, bundle her off to the seashore at midnight for a walk in the moonlight. That's when shell be at her best. The Moon will pull out all her secret dreams, and the nearness of the water may loosen her four hundred and three inhibitions. You're liable to see her whole range of emotions in the space of an hour. Then you can choose the one you like the best and encourage her to cultivate it. A strange transformation will take place when you get the typical Cancerian girl alone on a beach under a full Moon. That cool and reserved lady you see in the daytime, or even the giggly, outrageous flirt you notice on an occasional evening in a restaurant or theater, will suddenly become a creature from another world when the magnetic rays of the Moon shine in her eyes and the compelling sound of the surf fills her ears. She'll turn into a sea nymph, who can soar with you as far as your imagination can reach. It will work nine times out of ten, and the tenth time you probably picked a new Moon. That won't accomplish the same purpose. She'll be shy and sweet when the Moon is waning but what you really want is a Moon that's full enough to arouse all her latent talents. Under its spell, at the right time in her personal ebb and flow of emotions, she can write a poem, compose a song or tear the veil off mysteries the philosophers have pondered for centuries. Naturally, she makes an interesting conversationalist at these times. To say the very least.
Nevertheless, there are some "don'ts" to remember with her. She hates to be criticized, she is deeply wounded by ridicule, and she just can't stand being rejected. One, two, three. They're basics. Seldom openly aggressive, the typical Cancerian hesitates. You'll have to make the first move. If she moves anywhere at all, it will be backwards or sideways. With her basically shy nature and fear that she won't be accepted, she echoes the male of the Sun sign. I know of a Cancer woman and a Cancer man who, for seven hours, sat close to each other one night in her apartment, under the pretense of looking at magazines. While their pulses pounded silently, they went through a stack of back issues, the morning and evening papers, and worked a few crossword puzzles. Neither crab, you see, wanted to make the first move.
Be kind to her mother, or she'll never forgive you. Mother is a lady she won't like to see abused. The Cancer girl's sense of humor doesn't react favorably to mother-in-law jokes. And never read her five-year-diary. It probably has a lock and key, anyway. Cancerians like to keep secrets. They're not much for true confessions, unless you're the one doing the confessing.
The fears of your lunar lovely can really hang you up, along with her. She's afraid she isn't pretty enough, she isn't smart enough, she isn't young enough or she isn't old enough. It makes no difference if she has a figure like Venus de Milo, a face like Helen of Troy and a mind like Aristotle: she'll still feel inadequate. Assure her that she's young, she's lovely, she's engaged, and she has you. About twenty times a day should begin to make a dent. Her moods will change on the average of four times a month, with each quarter Moon plus minor fluctuations twice a day- reflecting the tides. She's sort of predictable in an unpredictable kind of way. It may make her fascinating and mysterious, but so doggone aggravating you'll feel like whacking her. During one of her blue spells, she may even be afraid she's not a good cook, which is utterly ridiculous, because the typical Cancerian woman can make a French chef look like the mess sergeant you had at boot camp. This woman isn't an automatic can opener or a frozen food fan. She would rather shell her own peas and bake her own biscuits. Her casseroles are sensational, her potatoes are fluffy, her vegetables are crisp and crunchy, and she tops it all off with heavenly strawberry jam. Cancer women are very friendly with their ovens. The kitchen will be her favorite room by far (next to the nursery). She'll fuss over you like a mother hen, and you'll probably love it.
In addition to the obviously unjustified fear about her culinary skill, she may be afraid you don't love her enough. That should be easy for any red-blooded male to remedy. Go ahead and prove it-as often as you like. She'll be beautifully receptive. Once you've turned on the green light, she'll happily recognize the signal, which may remove her feelings of inadequacy, but which creates a new problem. Truthfully, after you've won the Cancerian female, she may be just a little tenacious-like, she'll never let go of you as long as she lives. That's not bad. There »re men who starve for such loyalty. You'll never starve for either food or affection when you've been lucky enough to win her kind of love. The loony laugh that accompanies it can be kind of kicks, too. Her rich humor is even warmer and dearer when you think of all the sarcastic sirens with their cynical wit and hypocritical laughter.
Women born under the fire signs may strain and protest against life's delays and disappointments, but the Cancer girl usually feels nothing can be changed or overcome by getting all stirred up. When things don't go her way, she may shed a few quiet tears alone, but her normal reaction will be to fold her hands serenely and wait patiently for things to right themselves. Patience is one of her loveliest virtues. When she's depressed, however, youll have to find a way to take her out of herself. Try to catch her before she has burrowed too deep. She does have a way of wanting to be babied. The desire to be a little spoiled by loved ones seems to be buried deep in the Cancerian nature. She needs desperately to know you can't live without her. and sometimes shell go to great lengths to arouse your pity and protective instincts, just to be assured she means a lot to you. It's really very little for her to ask, when she gives so much in return. But don't be fooled by her weakness during these episodes. That helpless little baby who seeks your big, strong arms to keep out the cold, cruel world is perfectly able to manage by herself, if she must. In the middle of a quarrel, when your lunar girl looks up at you with her eyes all wet and dewy and frightened, remember that after you leave and are safely around the corner, she's likely to dry her eyes, put a stack of records on the player, and calmly clean out her closets. Of course, you can't rule out the times when her depression is real, instead of a typical Cancerian bid for sympathy. Those nights you'd better stay, listen to the music with her, and hold her hand tenderly.
It's her strange brand of possessiveness that's unshakable, but never aggressive. She knows, in her secret heart, that no matter how far away you go to follow your dream, you'll always come back again and she'll be there patiently waiting. Her eyes will still be beautiful with the Moon magic you remember, the kitchen will smell deliciously of warm spices, and she'll ask you how things went, how you feel. If things went badly and you feel miserable, she'll tell a joke to get you to laugh. Then she'll fill your stomach, and after you're relaxed, she'll gently smooth away your worries with her sensible advice and her rich humor. Later, in the firelight, you'll look at her serene face and ask yourself all over again, "Is she really a Moon maiden from some misty garden or a lovable loony bird?" But the answer won't seem very important.
****
If you're the kind of person who catches cold easily, wear your raincoat when you expose yourself to the dampness of a Cancerian in a melancholy mood. He can wrap you in wet blankets until you shiver and shake. Cancer can turn bluer than an inkwell, and drown you in depression deeper than the floor of the ocean. His fears are usually well covered by the nutty lunar humor, but they are always with him, haunting his days and nights with a vague sense of nameless dangers, lurking in the shadows. Pessimism is never far away, always ready to spoil those beautiful nights of fancy. A Cancerian can take the dreamiest trips to the stars on the gossamer wings of his imagination, if he leams to ignore that harping inner voice which keeps nagging him and warning him he might get lost in outer space. But until he leams to conquer his fears, they form his Achilles' heel, and they hurt every time he starts to fly too high.
His tears are never crocodile tears. They flow from the deep rivers of his fragile and vulnerable heart. You can wound his sensitive feelings with a harsh glance or a rough tone of voice. Cruelty can bring on brimming eyes or a complete withdrawal (It's an odd thing that Cancerians seldom get fevers; they're more likely to suffer from the chills.) It won't be easy to spot the crab in this mood, because when he's hurt, he disappears into reproachful silence. Sometimes, he can retaliate with an almost scorpion revenge, but he'll usually do it secretly, seldom openly with the Scorpio's fine contempt for consequences. Most of the time, however, he'll turn away from getting even, content to hide under his protective shell. Once you've wounded him, you can poke at him with a sharp stick for days afterwards and not reach him. He won't answer his phone, his doorbell or his mail. In the midst of uncertainty, despair and sadness. Cancer people seek retreat and solitude. Just like real crabs.
That's another mood Cancerians have. Crabby. The person who gave you a cranky answer when you asked for the time, the one who nearly snapped your head off when you asked him to pass the salt was probably a Cancer person going through one of his occasional crabby spells that makes him hate the world. He's not angry with you. He's disappointed with life. He'll get over it, and be his own sweet, gentle and understanding self when the Moon changes. Consult the daily paper for the next quarter, or wait until the tides come back in.
All lunar people have enormously expressive features. A thousand moods play fleetingly across their faces in the course of a conversation. Do you know someone who sometimes cackles wildly, then weeps despondently, who occasionally snaps at you irritably, and then hides when you hurt him? Does he normally treat you with gentle consideration? If he's gruff, yet kindly, a fascinating conversationalist with deep wells of creative imagination, that person was probably born in late June or July.
Caneerians have such control of imagery, and their moods are so intense, they can make you feel them, too. Their imagination seizes joy and despair, horror and compassion, sorrow and ecstasy, and holds each emotion fast with a retentive memory. Like mirrors and cameras, they absorb images and reflect them faithfully. Every experience is engraved on the heart as a photograph is etched on a negative plate. They never forget any of the lessons life has taught them nor do they forget the lessons history has taught mankind. A Cancerian reveres the past and is usually patriotic to the core. Historical figures intrigue him as much as his own ancestors do. He often collects antiques, old treasures and ancient relics and has an insatiable curiosity about yesterday. Cancer is a sort of mental archaeologist, always digging for more fascinating facts.
He's also a well of secrecy. People automatically confide their secrets to the crab, but with his sensitive emotions he already knows what's on their minds. Cancerian compassion is deep and highly intuitive. There's hardly a secret he can't strip naked, if he chooses. It's a one-way street, however. He'll eventually soak up all there is to know about you, but you'll never guess his own private thoughts. He guards his inner feelings carefully from prying eyes. The typical Cancer person doesn't like to discuss his personal life, but he's delighted to hear about yours, as his lunar imagination lets him easily guess the parts you leave out. Cancer seldom judges, however. He simply gathers, absorbs, reflects.
Male or female, the Cancerian loves his home with a respect bordering on reverence. No devout high priest of ancient times ever considered his altar more sacred than Cancer considers the place where he hangs his old hat. You're liable to notice a sampler on his wall with the words, "There's No Place Like Home, Be It Ever So Humble." (Yes, I know the verse is backwards, but his little girl made it at school, and to him it's a masterpiece, a pearl beyond price. Admire it often.) His home is where he plays, lives, loves, dreams and feels safe. Though he may travel over half the earth in connection with his career, no Cancer person is ever quite happy without a hearth to call his own. Sometime make a point of noticing the expression on the face of a crab who has just returned home from a long trip. Pure ecstasy.
The crab's sensitive nature is covered with a hard shell, and he's wise enough to avoid the stormy seas. Half the time he lives on dry land, the other half in deep waters. He wears the luminous, pale gold and shimmering colors of moonlight, and hides his powerful emotions behind the pale green, mauve and lavender tints of modesty.
There's a touch of Moon madness in every Cancerian. He knows a wild and secret place where two lilies and seven white roses grow among the iris. Sometimes the memory of this faraway garden causes him to explode with laughter. Now and then it causes him to weep with sadness. Cancer patiently gathers the emeralds, pearls and moon-stones carelessly dropped in the sand by others, as he waits for the tides to wash his silver dreams ashore.
There's no doubt about it. In the beginning, you'll have trouble deciding if your Cancerian girl is a gentle moon maiden or a wild loony-bird. In the end, you still won't know.
During the rainy season, she'll drown you in her sorrows. When the sun peeks through the clouds again, she'll double you up with laughter, and touch you with tenderness. Experiencing her moods is like watching one of those old-time silent movies where hysterical slapstick humor comes on just before the Perils of Pauline thriller, and the entire show is backed by the tinny piano in the pit. Sometimes the tune is lively and gay; then it gets melancholy and blue. The music is variable, to suit the occasion, never stagnant or monotonous. So it is with the Cancer girl. She's just a little mad, slightly sad and superbly imaginative. She also knows how to save the shekels.
Naturally, you can't look under her mattress until after you've married her. Modesty is a thing with her. But you can safely make a bet she probably has an old sock there, stuffed with green bills and silver coins. She may have an extravagant ascendant or Moon sign, but even so, she'll have a quarter or two stuck under the potted azalea, or salted away in the folds of that lace tablecloth she got for her birthday ten years ago and still hasn't ever used. Open one of her books of poetry, and a wrinkled dollar bill may fall out, blinking at the light of day. A Cancer female can go on a sudden spending spree when she's been hurt and needs balm for her injured ego, but most of the time her outgo will lag considerably behind her income. Your savings account may be of unusual interest to her, and money may be one of her favorite topics of conversation. She won't look down on you if you don't have it, so long as you're the kind of man who tries to get it. She'll help you make it and save it, but you're on your own when it comes to wasting it. Don't go too far, or she'll see your mutual security slipping away. When you give this girl a terribly expensive gift, and she says, "You shouldn't have done it," let me tell you, she means it.
To take her mind off insurance, mortgages, rent, bills and her Christmas club balance at the bank, bundle her off to the seashore at midnight for a walk in the moonlight. That's when shell be at her best. The Moon will pull out all her secret dreams, and the nearness of the water may loosen her four hundred and three inhibitions. You're liable to see her whole range of emotions in the space of an hour. Then you can choose the one you like the best and encourage her to cultivate it. A strange transformation will take place when you get the typical Cancerian girl alone on a beach under a full Moon. That cool and reserved lady you see in the daytime, or even the giggly, outrageous flirt you notice on an occasional evening in a restaurant or theater, will suddenly become a creature from another world when the magnetic rays of the Moon shine in her eyes and the compelling sound of the surf fills her ears. She'll turn into a sea nymph, who can soar with you as far as your imagination can reach. It will work nine times out of ten, and the tenth time you probably picked a new Moon. That won't accomplish the same purpose. She'll be shy and sweet when the Moon is waning but what you really want is a Moon that's full enough to arouse all her latent talents. Under its spell, at the right time in her personal ebb and flow of emotions, she can write a poem, compose a song or tear the veil off mysteries the philosophers have pondered for centuries. Naturally, she makes an interesting conversationalist at these times. To say the very least.
Nevertheless, there are some "don'ts" to remember with her. She hates to be criticized, she is deeply wounded by ridicule, and she just can't stand being rejected. One, two, three. They're basics. Seldom openly aggressive, the typical Cancerian hesitates. You'll have to make the first move. If she moves anywhere at all, it will be backwards or sideways. With her basically shy nature and fear that she won't be accepted, she echoes the male of the Sun sign. I know of a Cancer woman and a Cancer man who, for seven hours, sat close to each other one night in her apartment, under the pretense of looking at magazines. While their pulses pounded silently, they went through a stack of back issues, the morning and evening papers, and worked a few crossword puzzles. Neither crab, you see, wanted to make the first move.
Be kind to her mother, or she'll never forgive you. Mother is a lady she won't like to see abused. The Cancer girl's sense of humor doesn't react favorably to mother-in-law jokes. And never read her five-year-diary. It probably has a lock and key, anyway. Cancerians like to keep secrets. They're not much for true confessions, unless you're the one doing the confessing.
The fears of your lunar lovely can really hang you up, along with her. She's afraid she isn't pretty enough, she isn't smart enough, she isn't young enough or she isn't old enough. It makes no difference if she has a figure like Venus de Milo, a face like Helen of Troy and a mind like Aristotle: she'll still feel inadequate. Assure her that she's young, she's lovely, she's engaged, and she has you. About twenty times a day should begin to make a dent. Her moods will change on the average of four times a month, with each quarter Moon plus minor fluctuations twice a day- reflecting the tides. She's sort of predictable in an unpredictable kind of way. It may make her fascinating and mysterious, but so doggone aggravating you'll feel like whacking her. During one of her blue spells, she may even be afraid she's not a good cook, which is utterly ridiculous, because the typical Cancerian woman can make a French chef look like the mess sergeant you had at boot camp. This woman isn't an automatic can opener or a frozen food fan. She would rather shell her own peas and bake her own biscuits. Her casseroles are sensational, her potatoes are fluffy, her vegetables are crisp and crunchy, and she tops it all off with heavenly strawberry jam. Cancer women are very friendly with their ovens. The kitchen will be her favorite room by far (next to the nursery). She'll fuss over you like a mother hen, and you'll probably love it.
In addition to the obviously unjustified fear about her culinary skill, she may be afraid you don't love her enough. That should be easy for any red-blooded male to remedy. Go ahead and prove it-as often as you like. She'll be beautifully receptive. Once you've turned on the green light, she'll happily recognize the signal, which may remove her feelings of inadequacy, but which creates a new problem. Truthfully, after you've won the Cancerian female, she may be just a little tenacious-like, she'll never let go of you as long as she lives. That's not bad. There »re men who starve for such loyalty. You'll never starve for either food or affection when you've been lucky enough to win her kind of love. The loony laugh that accompanies it can be kind of kicks, too. Her rich humor is even warmer and dearer when you think of all the sarcastic sirens with their cynical wit and hypocritical laughter.
Women born under the fire signs may strain and protest against life's delays and disappointments, but the Cancer girl usually feels nothing can be changed or overcome by getting all stirred up. When things don't go her way, she may shed a few quiet tears alone, but her normal reaction will be to fold her hands serenely and wait patiently for things to right themselves. Patience is one of her loveliest virtues. When she's depressed, however, youll have to find a way to take her out of herself. Try to catch her before she has burrowed too deep. She does have a way of wanting to be babied. The desire to be a little spoiled by loved ones seems to be buried deep in the Cancerian nature. She needs desperately to know you can't live without her. and sometimes shell go to great lengths to arouse your pity and protective instincts, just to be assured she means a lot to you. It's really very little for her to ask, when she gives so much in return. But don't be fooled by her weakness during these episodes. That helpless little baby who seeks your big, strong arms to keep out the cold, cruel world is perfectly able to manage by herself, if she must. In the middle of a quarrel, when your lunar girl looks up at you with her eyes all wet and dewy and frightened, remember that after you leave and are safely around the corner, she's likely to dry her eyes, put a stack of records on the player, and calmly clean out her closets. Of course, you can't rule out the times when her depression is real, instead of a typical Cancerian bid for sympathy. Those nights you'd better stay, listen to the music with her, and hold her hand tenderly.
It's her strange brand of possessiveness that's unshakable, but never aggressive. She knows, in her secret heart, that no matter how far away you go to follow your dream, you'll always come back again and she'll be there patiently waiting. Her eyes will still be beautiful with the Moon magic you remember, the kitchen will smell deliciously of warm spices, and she'll ask you how things went, how you feel. If things went badly and you feel miserable, she'll tell a joke to get you to laugh. Then she'll fill your stomach, and after you're relaxed, she'll gently smooth away your worries with her sensible advice and her rich humor. Later, in the firelight, you'll look at her serene face and ask yourself all over again, "Is she really a Moon maiden from some misty garden or a lovable loony bird?" But the answer won't seem very important.
****
If you're the kind of person who catches cold easily, wear your raincoat when you expose yourself to the dampness of a Cancerian in a melancholy mood. He can wrap you in wet blankets until you shiver and shake. Cancer can turn bluer than an inkwell, and drown you in depression deeper than the floor of the ocean. His fears are usually well covered by the nutty lunar humor, but they are always with him, haunting his days and nights with a vague sense of nameless dangers, lurking in the shadows. Pessimism is never far away, always ready to spoil those beautiful nights of fancy. A Cancerian can take the dreamiest trips to the stars on the gossamer wings of his imagination, if he leams to ignore that harping inner voice which keeps nagging him and warning him he might get lost in outer space. But until he leams to conquer his fears, they form his Achilles' heel, and they hurt every time he starts to fly too high.
His tears are never crocodile tears. They flow from the deep rivers of his fragile and vulnerable heart. You can wound his sensitive feelings with a harsh glance or a rough tone of voice. Cruelty can bring on brimming eyes or a complete withdrawal (It's an odd thing that Cancerians seldom get fevers; they're more likely to suffer from the chills.) It won't be easy to spot the crab in this mood, because when he's hurt, he disappears into reproachful silence. Sometimes, he can retaliate with an almost scorpion revenge, but he'll usually do it secretly, seldom openly with the Scorpio's fine contempt for consequences. Most of the time, however, he'll turn away from getting even, content to hide under his protective shell. Once you've wounded him, you can poke at him with a sharp stick for days afterwards and not reach him. He won't answer his phone, his doorbell or his mail. In the midst of uncertainty, despair and sadness. Cancer people seek retreat and solitude. Just like real crabs.
That's another mood Cancerians have. Crabby. The person who gave you a cranky answer when you asked for the time, the one who nearly snapped your head off when you asked him to pass the salt was probably a Cancer person going through one of his occasional crabby spells that makes him hate the world. He's not angry with you. He's disappointed with life. He'll get over it, and be his own sweet, gentle and understanding self when the Moon changes. Consult the daily paper for the next quarter, or wait until the tides come back in.
All lunar people have enormously expressive features. A thousand moods play fleetingly across their faces in the course of a conversation. Do you know someone who sometimes cackles wildly, then weeps despondently, who occasionally snaps at you irritably, and then hides when you hurt him? Does he normally treat you with gentle consideration? If he's gruff, yet kindly, a fascinating conversationalist with deep wells of creative imagination, that person was probably born in late June or July.
Caneerians have such control of imagery, and their moods are so intense, they can make you feel them, too. Their imagination seizes joy and despair, horror and compassion, sorrow and ecstasy, and holds each emotion fast with a retentive memory. Like mirrors and cameras, they absorb images and reflect them faithfully. Every experience is engraved on the heart as a photograph is etched on a negative plate. They never forget any of the lessons life has taught them nor do they forget the lessons history has taught mankind. A Cancerian reveres the past and is usually patriotic to the core. Historical figures intrigue him as much as his own ancestors do. He often collects antiques, old treasures and ancient relics and has an insatiable curiosity about yesterday. Cancer is a sort of mental archaeologist, always digging for more fascinating facts.
He's also a well of secrecy. People automatically confide their secrets to the crab, but with his sensitive emotions he already knows what's on their minds. Cancerian compassion is deep and highly intuitive. There's hardly a secret he can't strip naked, if he chooses. It's a one-way street, however. He'll eventually soak up all there is to know about you, but you'll never guess his own private thoughts. He guards his inner feelings carefully from prying eyes. The typical Cancer person doesn't like to discuss his personal life, but he's delighted to hear about yours, as his lunar imagination lets him easily guess the parts you leave out. Cancer seldom judges, however. He simply gathers, absorbs, reflects.
Male or female, the Cancerian loves his home with a respect bordering on reverence. No devout high priest of ancient times ever considered his altar more sacred than Cancer considers the place where he hangs his old hat. You're liable to notice a sampler on his wall with the words, "There's No Place Like Home, Be It Ever So Humble." (Yes, I know the verse is backwards, but his little girl made it at school, and to him it's a masterpiece, a pearl beyond price. Admire it often.) His home is where he plays, lives, loves, dreams and feels safe. Though he may travel over half the earth in connection with his career, no Cancer person is ever quite happy without a hearth to call his own. Sometime make a point of noticing the expression on the face of a crab who has just returned home from a long trip. Pure ecstasy.
The crab's sensitive nature is covered with a hard shell, and he's wise enough to avoid the stormy seas. Half the time he lives on dry land, the other half in deep waters. He wears the luminous, pale gold and shimmering colors of moonlight, and hides his powerful emotions behind the pale green, mauve and lavender tints of modesty.
There's a touch of Moon madness in every Cancerian. He knows a wild and secret place where two lilies and seven white roses grow among the iris. Sometimes the memory of this faraway garden causes him to explode with laughter. Now and then it causes him to weep with sadness. Cancer patiently gathers the emeralds, pearls and moon-stones carelessly dropped in the sand by others, as he waits for the tides to wash his silver dreams ashore.