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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/225-0.txt b/225-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c45bb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/225-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10789 @@ +Project Gutenberg's At the Back of the North Wind, by George MacDonald + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: At the Back of the North Wind + +Author: George MacDonald + +Release Date: July 8, 2008 [EBook #225] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND *** + + + + +Produced by Martin Ward + + + + + +AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +By George Mac Donald + +Author of “Dealings with Fairies,” “Ranald Bannerman,” etc., etc. + + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE HAY-LOFT + + +I HAVE been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind. An old +Greek writer mentions a people who lived there, and were so comfortable +that they could not bear it any longer, and drowned themselves. My +story is not the same as his. I do not think Herodotus had got the right +account of the place. I am going to tell you how it fared with a boy who +went there. + +He lived in a low room over a coach-house; and that was not by any means +at the back of the north wind, as his mother very well knew. For one +side of the room was built only of boards, and the boards were so old +that you might run a penknife through into the north wind. And then let +them settle between them which was the sharper! I know that when you +pulled it out again the wind would be after it like a cat after a mouse, +and you would know soon enough you were not at the back of the north +wind. Still, this room was not very cold, except when the north wind +blew stronger than usual: the room I have to do with now was always +cold, except in summer, when the sun took the matter into his own hands. +Indeed, I am not sure whether I ought to call it a room at all; for it +was just a loft where they kept hay and straw and oats for the horses. + +And when little Diamond--but stop: I must tell you that his father, who +was a coachman, had named him after a favourite horse, and his mother +had had no objection:--when little Diamond, then, lay there in bed, he +could hear the horses under him munching away in the dark, or moving +sleepily in their dreams. For Diamond's father had built him a bed in +the loft with boards all round it, because they had so little room in +their own end over the coach-house; and Diamond's father put old Diamond +in the stall under the bed, because he was a quiet horse, and did not +go to sleep standing, but lay down like a reasonable creature. But, +although he was a surprisingly reasonable creature, yet, when young +Diamond woke in the middle of the night, and felt the bed shaking in the +blasts of the north wind, he could not help wondering whether, if the +wind should blow the house down, and he were to fall through into +the manger, old Diamond mightn't eat him up before he knew him in his +night-gown. And although old Diamond was very quiet all night long, yet +when he woke he got up like an earthquake, and then young Diamond knew +what o'clock it was, or at least what was to be done next, which was--to +go to sleep again as fast as he could. + +There was hay at his feet and hay at his head, piled up in great trusses +to the very roof. Indeed it was sometimes only through a little lane +with several turnings, which looked as if it had been sawn out for him, +that he could reach his bed at all. For the stock of hay was, of course, +always in a state either of slow ebb or of sudden flow. Sometimes the +whole space of the loft, with the little panes in the roof for the +stars to look in, would lie open before his open eyes as he lay in bed; +sometimes a yellow wall of sweet-smelling fibres closed up his view at +the distance of half a yard. Sometimes, when his mother had undressed +him in her room, and told him to trot to bed by himself, he would +creep into the heart of the hay, and lie there thinking how cold it was +outside in the wind, and how warm it was inside there in his bed, and +how he could go to it when he pleased, only he wouldn't just yet; he +would get a little colder first. And ever as he grew colder, his bed +would grow warmer, till at last he would scramble out of the hay, shoot +like an arrow into his bed, cover himself up, and snuggle down, thinking +what a happy boy he was. He had not the least idea that the wind got in +at a chink in the wall, and blew about him all night. For the back of +his bed was only of boards an inch thick, and on the other side of them +was the north wind. + +Now, as I have already said, these boards were soft and crumbly. To be +sure, they were tarred on the outside, yet in many places they were more +like tinder than timber. Hence it happened that the soft part having +worn away from about it, little Diamond found one night, after he lay +down, that a knot had come out of one of them, and that the wind was +blowing in upon him in a cold and rather imperious fashion. Now he had +no fancy for leaving things wrong that might be set right; so he jumped +out of bed again, got a little strike of hay, twisted it up, folded it +in the middle, and, having thus made it into a cork, stuck it into the +hole in the wall. But the wind began to blow loud and angrily, and, as +Diamond was falling asleep, out blew his cork and hit him on the +nose, just hard enough to wake him up quite, and let him hear the wind +whistling shrill in the hole. He searched for his hay-cork, found it, +stuck it in harder, and was just dropping off once more, when, pop! with +an angry whistle behind it, the cork struck him again, this time on the +cheek. Up he rose once more, made a fresh stopple of hay, and corked the +hole severely. But he was hardly down again before--pop! it came on his +forehead. He gave it up, drew the clothes above his head, and was soon +fast asleep. + +Although the next day was very stormy, Diamond forgot all about the +hole, for he was busy making a cave by the side of his mother's fire +with a broken chair, a three-legged stool, and a blanket, and then +sitting in it. His mother, however, discovered it, and pasted a bit of +brown paper over it, so that, when Diamond had snuggled down the next +night, he had no occasion to think of it. + +Presently, however, he lifted his head and listened. Who could that be +talking to him? The wind was rising again, and getting very loud, and +full of rushes and whistles. He was sure some one was talking--and very +near him, too, it was. But he was not frightened, for he had not yet +learned how to be; so he sat up and hearkened. At last the voice, which, +though quite gentle, sounded a little angry, appeared to come from the +back of the bed. He crept nearer to it, and laid his ear against the +wall. Then he heard nothing but the wind, which sounded very loud +indeed. The moment, however, that he moved his head from the wall, he +heard the voice again, close to his ear. He felt about with his hand, +and came upon the piece of paper his mother had pasted over the +hole. Against this he laid his ear, and then he heard the voice quite +distinctly. There was, in fact, a little corner of the paper loose, and +through that, as from a mouth in the wall, the voice came. + +“What do you mean, little boy--closing up my window?” + +“What window?” asked Diamond. + +“You stuffed hay into it three times last night. I had to blow it out +again three times.” + +“You can't mean this little hole! It isn't a window; it's a hole in my +bed.” + +“I did not say it was a window: I said it was my window.” + +“But it can't be a window, because windows are holes to see out of.” + +“Well, that's just what I made this window for.” + +“But you are outside: you can't want a window.” + +“You are quite mistaken. Windows are to see out of, you say. Well, I'm +in my house, and I want windows to see out of it.” + +“But you've made a window into my bed.” + +“Well, your mother has got three windows into my dancing room, and you +have three into my garret.” + +“But I heard father say, when my mother wanted him to make a window +through the wall, that it was against the law, for it would look into +Mr. Dyves's garden.” + +The voice laughed. + +“The law would have some trouble to catch me!” it said. + +“But if it's not right, you know,” said Diamond, “that's no matter. You +shouldn't do it.” + +“I am so tall I am above that law,” said the voice. + +“You must have a tall house, then,” said Diamond. + +“Yes; a tall house: the clouds are inside it.” + +“Dear me!” said Diamond, and thought a minute. “I think, then, you can +hardly expect me to keep a window in my bed for you. Why don't you make +a window into Mr. Dyves's bed?” + +“Nobody makes a window into an ash-pit,” said the voice, rather sadly. +“I like to see nice things out of my windows.” + +“But he must have a nicer bed than I have, though mine is very nice--so +nice that I couldn't wish a better.” + +“It's not the bed I care about: it's what is in it.--But you just open +that window.” + +“Well, mother says I shouldn't be disobliging; but it's rather hard. You +see the north wind will blow right in my face if I do.” + +“I am the North Wind.” + +“O-o-oh!” said Diamond, thoughtfully. “Then will you promise not to blow +on my face if I open your window?” + +“I can't promise that.” + +“But you'll give me the toothache. Mother's got it already.” + +“But what's to become of me without a window?” + +“I'm sure I don't know. All I say is, it will be worse for me than for +you.” + +“No; it will not. You shall not be the worse for it--I promise you that. +You will be much the better for it. Just you believe what I say, and do +as I tell you.” + +“Well, I can pull the clothes over my head,” said Diamond, and feeling +with his little sharp nails, he got hold of the open edge of the paper +and tore it off at once. + +In came a long whistling spear of cold, and struck his little naked +chest. He scrambled and tumbled in under the bedclothes, and covered +himself up: there was no paper now between him and the voice, and he +felt a little--not frightened exactly--I told you he had not learned +that yet--but rather queer; for what a strange person this North Wind +must be that lived in the great house--“called Out-of-Doors, I suppose,” + thought Diamond--and made windows into people's beds! But the voice +began again; and he could hear it quite plainly, even with his head +under the bed-clothes. It was a still more gentle voice now, although +six times as large and loud as it had been, and he thought it sounded a +little like his mother's. + +“What is your name, little boy?” it asked. + +“Diamond,” answered Diamond, under the bed-clothes. + +“What a funny name!” + +“It's a very nice name,” returned its owner. + +“I don't know that,” said the voice. + +“Well, I do,” retorted Diamond, a little rudely. + +“Do you know to whom you are speaking!” + +“No,” said Diamond. + +And indeed he did not. For to know a person's name is not always to know +the person's self. + +“Then I must not be angry with you.--You had better look and see, +though.” + +“Diamond is a very pretty name,” persisted the boy, vexed that it should +not give satisfaction. + +“Diamond is a useless thing rather,” said the voice. + +“That's not true. Diamond is very nice--as big as two--and so quiet all +night! And doesn't he make a jolly row in the morning, getting upon his +four great legs! It's like thunder.” + +“You don't seem to know what a diamond is.” + +“Oh, don't I just! Diamond is a great and good horse; and he sleeps +right under me. He is old Diamond, and I am young Diamond; or, if you +like it better, for you're very particular, Mr. North Wind, he's big +Diamond, and I'm little Diamond; and I don't know which of us my father +likes best.” + +A beautiful laugh, large but very soft and musical, sounded somewhere +beside him, but Diamond kept his head under the clothes. + +“I'm not Mr. North Wind,” said the voice. + +“You told me that you were the North Wind,” insisted Diamond. + +“I did not say Mister North Wind,” said the voice. + +“Well, then, I do; for mother tells me I ought to be polite.” + +“Then let me tell you I don't think it at all polite of you to say +Mister to me.” + +“Well, I didn't know better. I'm very sorry.” + +“But you ought to know better.” + +“I don't know that.” + +“I do. You can't say it's polite to lie there talking--with your head +under the bed-clothes, and never look up to see what kind of person you +are talking to.--I want you to come out with me.” + +“I want to go to sleep,” said Diamond, very nearly crying, for he did +not like to be scolded, even when he deserved it. + +“You shall sleep all the better to-morrow night.” + +“Besides,” said Diamond, “you are out in Mr. Dyves's garden, and I can't +get there. I can only get into our own yard.” + +“Will you take your head out of the bed-clothes?” said the voice, just a +little angrily. + +“No!” answered Diamond, half peevish, half frightened. + +The instant he said the word, a tremendous blast of wind crashed in a +board of the wall, and swept the clothes off Diamond. He started up in +terror. Leaning over him was the large, beautiful, pale face of a woman. +Her dark eyes looked a little angry, for they had just begun to flash; +but a quivering in her sweet upper lip made her look as if she were +going to cry. What was the most strange was that away from her head +streamed out her black hair in every direction, so that the darkness in +the hay-loft looked as if it were made of her hair but as Diamond gazed +at her in speechless amazement, mingled with confidence--for the boy was +entranced with her mighty beauty--her hair began to gather itself out +of the darkness, and fell down all about her again, till her face looked +out of the midst of it like a moon out of a cloud. From her eyes came +all the light by which Diamond saw her face and her hair; and that was +all he did see of her yet. The wind was over and gone. + +“Will you go with me now, you little Diamond? I am sorry I was forced to +be so rough with you,” said the lady. + +“I will; yes, I will,” answered Diamond, holding out both his arms. +“But,” he added, dropping them, “how shall I get my clothes? They are in +mother's room, and the door is locked.” + +“Oh, never mind your clothes. You will not be cold. I shall take care of +that. Nobody is cold with the north wind.” + +“I thought everybody was,” said Diamond. + +“That is a great mistake. Most people make it, however. They are cold +because they are not with the north wind, but without it.” + +If Diamond had been a little older, and had supposed himself a good deal +wiser, he would have thought the lady was joking. But he was not older, +and did not fancy himself wiser, and therefore understood her well +enough. Again he stretched out his arms. The lady's face drew back a +little. + +“Follow me, Diamond,” she said. + +“Yes,” said Diamond, only a little ruefully. + +“You're not afraid?” said the North Wind. + +“No, ma'am; but mother never would let me go without shoes: she never +said anything about clothes, so I dare say she wouldn't mind that.” + +“I know your mother very well,” said the lady. “She is a good woman. +I have visited her often. I was with her when you were born. I saw her +laugh and cry both at once. I love your mother, Diamond.” + +“How was it you did not know my name, then, ma'am? Please am I to say +ma'am to you, ma'am?” + +“One question at a time, dear boy. I knew your name quite well, but I +wanted to hear what you would say for it. Don't you remember that day +when the man was finding fault with your name--how I blew the window +in?” + +“Yes, yes,” answered Diamond, eagerly. “Our window opens like a door, +right over the coach-house door. And the wind--you, ma'am--came in, and +blew the Bible out of the man's hands, and the leaves went all flutter, +flutter on the floor, and my mother picked it up and gave it back to him +open, and there----” + +“Was your name in the Bible--the sixth stone in the high priest's +breastplate.” + +“Oh!--a stone, was it?” said Diamond. “I thought it had been a horse--I +did.” + +“Never mind. A horse is better than a stone any day. Well, you see, I +know all about you and your mother.” + +“Yes. I will go with you.” + +“Now for the next question: you're not to call me ma'am. You must call +me just my own name--respectfully, you know--just North Wind.” + +“Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready to go +with you.” + +“You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all at once, +Diamond.” + +“But what's beautiful can't be bad. You're not bad, North Wind?” + +“No; I'm not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing +bad, and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. +So little boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they are +beautiful.” + +“Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good, too.” + +“Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond:--What if I should look ugly +without being bad--look ugly myself because I am making ugly things +beautiful?--What then?” + +“I don't quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then.” + +“Well, I will tell you. If you see me with my face all black, don't be +frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the +whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse +than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith's wife--even if you see me looking in at +people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife--you must +believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into a +serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand +will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, +you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't +see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. +Do you understand?” + +“Quite well,” said little Diamond. + +“Come along, then,” said North Wind, and disappeared behind the mountain +of hay. + +Diamond crept out of bed and followed her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE LAWN + + +WHEN Diamond got round the corner of the hay, for a moment he hesitated. +The stair by which he would naturally have gone down to the door was +at the other side of the loft, and looked very black indeed; for it was +full of North Wind's hair, as she descended before him. And just beside +him was the ladder going straight down into the stable, up which his +father always came to fetch the hay for Diamond's dinner. Through the +opening in the floor the faint gleam of the-stable lantern was enticing, +and Diamond thought he would run down that way. + +The stair went close past the loose-box in which Diamond the horse +lived. When Diamond the boy was half-way down, he remembered that it +was of no use to go this way, for the stable-door was locked. But at the +same moment there was horse Diamond's great head poked out of his box +on to the ladder, for he knew boy Diamond although he was in his +night-gown, and wanted him to pull his ears for him. This Diamond did +very gently for a minute or so, and patted and stroked his neck too, and +kissed the big horse, and had begun to take the bits of straw and hay +out of his mane, when all at once he recollected that the Lady North +Wind was waiting for him in the yard. + +“Good night, Diamond,” he said, and darted up the ladder, across the +loft, and down the stair to the door. But when he got out into the yard, +there was no lady. + +Now it is always a dreadful thing to think there is somebody and find +nobody. Children in particular have not made up their minds to it; they +generally cry at nobody, especially when they wake up at night. But it +was an especial disappointment to Diamond, for his little heart had been +beating with joy: the face of the North Wind was so grand! To have +a lady like that for a friend--with such long hair, too! Why, it was +longer than twenty Diamonds' tails! She was gone. And there he stood, +with his bare feet on the stones of the paved yard. + +It was a clear night overhead, and the stars were shining. Orion in +particular was making the most of his bright belt and golden sword. +But the moon was only a poor thin crescent. There was just one great, +jagged, black and gray cloud in the sky, with a steep side to it like a +precipice; and the moon was against this side, and looked as if she had +tumbled off the top of the cloud-hill, and broken herself in rolling +down the precipice. She did not seem comfortable, for she was looking +down into the deep pit waiting for her. At least that was what Diamond +thought as he stood for a moment staring at her. But he was quite wrong, +for the moon was not afraid, and there was no pit she was going down +into, for there were no sides to it, and a pit without sides to it is +not a pit at all. Diamond, however, had not been out so late before in +all his life, and things looked so strange about him!--just as if he had +got into Fairyland, of which he knew quite as much as anybody; for his +mother had no money to buy books to set him wrong on the subject. I have +seen this world--only sometimes, just now and then, you know--look as +strange as ever I saw Fairyland. But I confess that I have not yet seen +Fairyland at its best. I am always going to see it so some time. But if +you had been out in the face and not at the back of the North Wind, on a +cold rather frosty night, and in your night-gown, you would have felt it +all quite as strange as Diamond did. He cried a little, just a little, +he was so disappointed to lose the lady: of course, you, little man, +wouldn't have done that! But for my part, I don't mind people crying so +much as I mind what they cry about, and how they cry--whether they cry +quietly like ladies and gentlemen, or go shrieking like vulgar emperors, +or ill-natured cooks; for all emperors are not gentlemen, and all cooks +are not ladies--nor all queens and princesses for that matter, either. + +But it can't be denied that a little gentle crying does one good. It did +Diamond good; for as soon as it was over he was a brave boy again. + +“She shan't say it was my fault, anyhow!” said Diamond. “I daresay she +is hiding somewhere to see what I will do. I will look for her.” + +So he went round the end of the stable towards the kitchen-garden. But +the moment he was clear of the shelter of the stable, sharp as a knife +came the wind against his little chest and his bare legs. Still he +would look in the kitchen-garden, and went on. But when he got round the +weeping-ash that stood in the corner, the wind blew much stronger, and +it grew stronger and stronger till he could hardly fight against it. And +it was so cold! All the flashy spikes of the stars seemed to have got +somehow into the wind. Then he thought of what the lady had said about +people being cold because they were not with the North Wind. How it was +that he should have guessed what she meant at that very moment I cannot +tell, but I have observed that the most wonderful thing in the world is +how people come to understand anything. He turned his back to the wind, +and trotted again towards the yard; whereupon, strange to say, it blew +so much more gently against his calves than it had blown against his +shins that he began to feel almost warm by contrast. + +You must not think it was cowardly of Diamond to turn his back to +the wind: he did so only because he thought Lady North Wind had said +something like telling him to do so. If she had said to him that he must +hold his face to it, Diamond would have held his face to it. But the +most foolish thing is to fight for no good, and to please nobody. + +Well, it was just as if the wind was pushing Diamond along. If he turned +round, it grew very sharp on his legs especially, and so he thought the +wind might really be Lady North Wind, though he could not see her, and +he had better let her blow him wherever she pleased. So she blew and +blew, and he went and went, until he found himself standing at a door +in a wall, which door led from the yard into a little belt of shrubbery, +flanking Mr. Coleman's house. Mr. Coleman was his father's master, +and the owner of Diamond. He opened the door, and went through the +shrubbery, and out into the middle of the lawn, still hoping to find +North Wind. The soft grass was very pleasant to his bare feet, and felt +warm after the stones of the yard; but the lady was nowhere to be seen. +Then he began to think that after all he must have done wrong, and she +was offended with him for not following close after her, but staying to +talk to the horse, which certainly was neither wise nor polite. + +There he stood in the middle of the lawn, the wind blowing his +night-gown till it flapped like a loose sail. The stars were very shiny +over his head; but they did not give light enough to show that the grass +was green; and Diamond stood alone in the strange night, which looked +half solid all about him. He began to wonder whether he was in a dream +or not. It was important to determine this; “for,” thought Diamond, “if +I am in a dream, I am safe in my bed, and I needn't cry. But if I'm not +in a dream, I'm out here, and perhaps I had better cry, or, at least, +I'm not sure whether I can help it.” He came to the conclusion, however, +that, whether he was in a dream or not, there could be no harm in not +crying for a little while longer: he could begin whenever he liked. + +The back of Mr. Coleman's house was to the lawn, and one of the +drawing-room windows looked out upon it. The ladies had not gone to bed; +for the light was still shining in that window. But they had no idea +that a little boy was standing on the lawn in his night-gown, or they +would have run out in a moment. And as long as he saw that light, +Diamond could not feel quite lonely. He stood staring, not at the great +warrior Orion in the sky, nor yet at the disconsolate, neglected moon +going down in the west, but at the drawing-room window with the light +shining through its green curtains. He had been in that room once or +twice that he could remember at Christmas times; for the Colemans were +kind people, though they did not care much about children. + +All at once the light went nearly out: he could only see a glimmer of +the shape of the window. Then, indeed, he felt that he was left alone. +It was so dreadful to be out in the night after everybody was gone +to bed! That was more than he could bear. He burst out crying in good +earnest, beginning with a wail like that of the wind when it is waking +up. + +Perhaps you think this was very foolish; for could he not go home to his +own bed again when he liked? Yes; but it looked dreadful to him to creep +up that stair again and lie down in his bed again, and know that North +Wind's window was open beside him, and she gone, and he might never see +her again. He would be just as lonely there as here. Nay, it would be +much worse if he had to think that the window was nothing but a hole in +the wall. + +At the very moment when he burst out crying, the old nurse who had grown +to be one of the family, for she had not gone away when Miss Coleman did +not want any more nursing, came to the back door, which was of glass, to +close the shutters. She thought she heard a cry, and, peering out with a +hand on each side of her eyes like Diamond's blinkers, she saw something +white on the lawn. Too old and too wise to be frightened, she opened the +door, and went straight towards the white thing to see what it was. And +when Diamond saw her coming he was not frightened either, though +Mrs. Crump was a little cross sometimes; for there is a good kind +of crossness that is only disagreeable, and there is a bad kind of +crossness that is very nasty indeed. So she came up with her neck +stretched out, and her head at the end of it, and her eyes foremost of +all, like a snail's, peering into the night to see what it could be that +went on glimmering white before her. When she did see, she made a +great exclamation, and threw up her hands. Then without a word, for she +thought Diamond was walking in his sleep, she caught hold of him, and +led him towards the house. He made no objection, for he was just in +the mood to be grateful for notice of any sort, and Mrs. Crump led him +straight into the drawing-room. + +Now, from the neglect of the new housemaid, the fire in Miss Coleman's +bedroom had gone out, and her mother had told her to brush her hair by +the drawing-room fire--a disorderly proceeding which a mother's wish +could justify. The young lady was very lovely, though not nearly so +beautiful as North Wind; and her hair was extremely long, for it came +down to her knees--though that was nothing at all to North Wind's hair. +Yet when she looked round, with her hair all about her, as Diamond +entered, he thought for one moment that it was North Wind, and, pulling +his hand from Mrs. Crump's, he stretched out his arms and ran towards +Miss Coleman. She was so pleased that she threw down her brush, and +almost knelt on the floor to receive him in her arms. He saw the next +moment that she was not Lady North Wind, but she looked so like her he +could not help running into her arms and bursting into tears afresh. +Mrs. Crump said the poor child had walked out in his sleep, and Diamond +thought she ought to know, and did not contradict her for anything he +knew, it might be so indeed. He let them talk on about him, and said +nothing; and when, after their astonishment was over, and Miss Coleman +had given him a sponge-cake, it was decreed that Mrs. Crump should take +him to his mother, he was quite satisfied. + +His mother had to get out of bed to open the door when Mrs. Crump +knocked. She was indeed surprised to see her, boy; and having taken +him in her arms and carried him to his bed, returned and had a long +confabulation with Mrs. Crump, for they were still talking when Diamond +fell fast asleep, and could hear them no longer. + + + + +CHAPTER III. OLD DIAMOND + + +DIAMOND woke very early in the morning, and thought what a curious dream +he had had. But the memory grew brighter and brighter in his head, until +it did not look altogether like a dream, and he began to doubt whether +he had not really been abroad in the wind last night. He came to the +conclusion that, if he had really been brought home to his mother by +Mrs. Crump, she would say something to him about it, and that would +settle the matter. Then he got up and dressed himself, but, finding that +his father and mother were not yet stirring, he went down the ladder to +the stable. There he found that even old Diamond was not awake yet, for +he, as well as young Diamond, always got up the moment he woke, and +now he was lying as flat as a horse could lie upon his nice trim bed of +straw. + +“I'll give old Diamond a surprise,” thought the boy; and creeping up +very softly, before the horse knew, he was astride of his back. Then +it was young Diamond's turn to have more of a surprise than he had +expected; for as with an earthquake, with a rumbling and a rocking +hither and thither, a sprawling of legs and heaving as of many backs, +young Diamond found himself hoisted up in the air, with both hands +twisted in the horse's mane. The next instant old Diamond lashed out +with both his hind legs, and giving one cry of terror young Diamond +found himself lying on his neck, with his arms as far round it as they +would go. But then the horse stood as still as a stone, except that he +lifted his head gently up to let the boy slip down to his back. For +when he heard young Diamond's cry he knew that there was nothing to +kick about; for young Diamond was a good boy, and old Diamond was a good +horse, and the one was all right on the back of the other. + +As soon as Diamond had got himself comfortable on the saddle place, the +horse began pulling at the hay, and the boy began thinking. He had never +mounted Diamond himself before, and he had never got off him without +being lifted down. So he sat, while the horse ate, wondering how he was +to reach the ground. + +But while he meditated, his mother woke, and her first thought was to +see her boy. She had visited him twice during the night, and found him +sleeping quietly. Now his bed was empty, and she was frightened. + +“Diamond! Diamond! Where are you, Diamond?” she called out. + +Diamond turned his head where he sat like a knight on his steed in +enchanted stall, and cried aloud,-- + +“Here, mother!” + +“Where, Diamond?” she returned. + +“Here, mother, on Diamond's back.” + +She came running to the ladder, and peeping down, saw him aloft on the +great horse. + +“Come down, Diamond,” she said. + +“I can't,” answered Diamond. + +“How did you get up?” asked his mother. + +“Quite easily,” answered he; “but when I got up, Diamond would get up +too, and so here I am.” + +His mother thought he had been walking in his sleep again, and hurried +down the ladder. She did not much like going up to the horse, for she +had not been used to horses; but she would have gone into a lion's den, +not to say a horse's stall, to help her boy. So she went and lifted him +off Diamond's back, and felt braver all her life after. She carried him +in her arms up to her room; but, afraid of frightening him at his own +sleep-walking, as she supposed it, said nothing about last night. Before +the next day was over, Diamond had almost concluded the whole adventure +a dream. + +For a week his mother watched him very carefully--going into the loft +several times a night--as often, in fact, as she woke. Every time she +found him fast asleep. + +All that week it was hard weather. The grass showed white in the morning +with the hoar-frost which clung like tiny comfits to every blade. And +as Diamond's shoes were not good, and his mother had not quite saved +up enough money to get him the new pair she so much wanted for him, +she would not let him run out. He played all his games over and over +indoors, especially that of driving two chairs harnessed to the baby's +cradle; and if they did not go very fast, they went as fast as could be +expected of the best chairs in the world, although one of them had only +three legs, and the other only half a back. + +At length his mother brought home his new shoes, and no sooner did she +find they fitted him than she told him he might run out in the yard and +amuse himself for an hour. + +The sun was going down when he flew from the door like a bird from its +cage. All the world was new to him. A great fire of sunset burned on the +top of the gate that led from the stables to the house; above the fire +in the sky lay a large lake of green light, above that a golden cloud, +and over that the blue of the wintry heavens. And Diamond thought that, +next to his own home, he had never seen any place he would like so much +to live in as that sky. For it is not fine things that make home a nice +place, but your mother and your father. + +As he was looking at the lovely colours, the gates were thrown open, +and there was old Diamond and his friend in the carriage, dancing with +impatience to get at their stalls and their oats. And in they came. +Diamond was not in the least afraid of his father driving over him, but, +careful not to spoil the grand show he made with his fine horses and his +multitudinous cape, with a red edge to every fold, he slipped out of the +way and let him dash right on to the stables. To be quite safe he had +to step into the recess of the door that led from the yard to the +shrubbery. + +As he stood there he remembered how the wind had driven him to this same +spot on the night of his dream. And once more he was almost sure that +it was no dream. At all events, he would go in and see whether things +looked at all now as they did then. He opened the door, and passed +through the little belt of shrubbery. Not a flower was to be seen in the +beds on the lawn. Even the brave old chrysanthemums and Christmas roses +had passed away before the frost. What? Yes! There was one! He ran and +knelt down to look at it. + +It was a primrose--a dwarfish thing, but perfect in shape--a +baby-wonder. As he stooped his face to see it close, a little wind began +to blow, and two or three long leaves that stood up behind the flower +shook and waved and quivered, but the primrose lay still in the green +hollow, looking up at the sky, and not seeming to know that the wind was +blowing at all. It was just a one eye that the dull black wintry earth +had opened to look at the sky with. All at once Diamond thought it was +saying its prayers, and he ought not to be staring at it so. He ran to +the stable to see his father make Diamond's bed. Then his father took +him in his arms, carried him up the ladder, and set him down at the +table where they were going to have their tea. + +“Miss is very poorly,” said Diamond's father. “Mis'ess has been to +the doctor with her to-day, and she looked very glum when she came out +again. I was a-watching of them to see what doctor had said.” + +“And didn't Miss look glum too?” asked his mother. + +“Not half as glum as Mis'ess,” returned the coachman. “You see--” + +But he lowered his voice, and Diamond could not make out more than a +word here and there. For Diamond's father was not only one of the finest +of coachmen to look at, and one of the best of drivers, but one of +the most discreet of servants as well. Therefore he did not talk about +family affairs to any one but his wife, whom he had proved better than +himself long ago, and was careful that even Diamond should hear nothing +he could repeat again concerning master and his family. + +It was bed-time soon, and Diamond went to bed and fell fast asleep. + +He awoke all at once, in the dark. + +“Open the window, Diamond,” said a voice. + +Now Diamond's mother had once more pasted up North Wind's window. + +“Are you North Wind?” said Diamond: “I don't hear you blowing.” + +“No; but you hear me talking. Open the window, for I haven't overmuch +time.” + +“Yes,” returned Diamond. “But, please, North Wind, where's the use? You +left me all alone last time.” + +He had got up on his knees, and was busy with his nails once more at the +paper over the hole in the wall. For now that North Wind spoke again, +he remembered all that had taken place before as distinctly as if it had +happened only last night. + +“Yes, but that was your fault,” returned North Wind. “I had work to do; +and, besides, a gentleman should never keep a lady waiting.” + +“But I'm not a gentleman,” said Diamond, scratching away at the paper. + +“I hope you won't say so ten years after this.” + +“I'm going to be a coachman, and a coachman is not a gentleman,” + persisted Diamond. + +“We call your father a gentleman in our house,” said North Wind. + +“He doesn't call himself one,” said Diamond. + +“That's of no consequence: every man ought to be a gentleman, and your +father is one.” + +Diamond was so pleased to hear this that he scratched at the paper like +ten mice, and getting hold of the edge of it, tore it off. The next +instant a young girl glided across the bed, and stood upon the floor. + +“Oh dear!” said Diamond, quite dismayed; “I didn't know--who are you, +please?” + +“I'm North Wind.” + +“Are you really?” + +“Yes. Make haste.” + +“But you're no bigger than me.” + +“Do you think I care about how big or how little I am? Didn't you see me +this evening? I was less then.” + +“No. Where was you?” + +“Behind the leaves of the primrose. Didn't you see them blowing?” + +“Yes.” + +“Make haste, then, if you want to go with me.” + +“But you are not big enough to take care of me. I think you are only +Miss North Wind.” + +“I am big enough to show you the way, anyhow. But if you won't come, +why, you must stay.” + +“I must dress myself. I didn't mind with a grown lady, but I couldn't go +with a little girl in my night-gown.” + +“Very well. I'm not in such a hurry as I was the other night. Dress +as fast as you can, and I'll go and shake the primrose leaves till you +come.” + +“Don't hurt it,” said Diamond. + +North Wind broke out in a little laugh like the breaking of silver +bubbles, and was gone in a moment. Diamond saw--for it was a starlit +night, and the mass of hay was at a low ebb now--the gleam of something +vanishing down the stair, and, springing out of bed, dressed himself as +fast as ever he could. Then he crept out into the yard, through the +door in the wall, and away to the primrose. Behind it stood North +Wind, leaning over it, and looking at the flower as if she had been its +mother. + +“Come along,” she said, jumping up and holding out her hand. + +Diamond took her hand. It was cold, but so pleasant and full of life, it +was better than warm. She led him across the garden. With one bound she +was on the top of the wall. Diamond was left at the foot. + +“Stop, stop!” he cried. “Please, I can't jump like that.” + +“You don't try” said North Wind, who from the top looked down a foot +taller than before. + +“Give me your hand again, and I will, try” said Diamond. + +She reached down, Diamond laid hold of her hand, gave a great spring, +and stood beside her. + +“This is nice!” he said. + +Another bound, and they stood in the road by the river. It was full +tide, and the stars were shining clear in its depths, for it lay still, +waiting for the turn to run down again to the sea. They walked along its +side. But they had not walked far before its surface was covered with +ripples, and the stars had vanished from its bosom. + +And North Wind was now tall as a full-grown girl. Her hair was flying +about her head, and the wind was blowing a breeze down the river. But +she turned aside and went up a narrow lane, and as she went her hair +fell down around her. + +“I have some rather disagreeable work to do to-night,” she said, “before +I get out to sea, and I must set about it at once. The disagreeable work +must be looked after first.” + +So saying, she laid hold of Diamond and began to run, gliding along +faster and faster. Diamond kept up with her as well as he could. She +made many turnings and windings, apparently because it was not quite +easy to get him over walls and houses. Once they ran through a hall +where they found back and front doors open. At the foot of the stair +North Wind stood still, and Diamond, hearing a great growl, started in +terror, and there, instead of North Wind, was a huge wolf by his side. +He let go his hold in dismay, and the wolf bounded up the stair. The +windows of the house rattled and shook as if guns were firing, and the +sound of a great fall came from above. Diamond stood with white face +staring up at the landing. + +“Surely,” he thought, “North Wind can't be eating one of the children!” + Coming to himself all at once, he rushed after her with his little fist +clenched. There were ladies in long trains going up and down the stairs, +and gentlemen in white neckties attending on them, who stared at him, +but none of them were of the people of the house, and they said nothing. +Before he reached the head of the stair, however, North Wind met him, +took him by the hand, and hurried down and out of the house. + +“I hope you haven't eaten a baby, North Wind!” said Diamond, very +solemnly. + +North Wind laughed merrily, and went tripping on faster. Her grassy robe +swept and swirled about her steps, and wherever it passed over withered +leaves, they went fleeing and whirling in spirals, and running on their +edges like wheels, all about her feet. + +“No,” she said at last, “I did not eat a baby. You would not have had +to ask that foolish question if you had not let go your hold of me. You +would have seen how I served a nurse that was calling a child bad names, +and telling her she was wicked. She had been drinking. I saw an ugly gin +bottle in a cupboard.” + +“And you frightened her?” said Diamond. + +“I believe so!” answered North Wind laughing merrily. “I flew at her +throat, and she tumbled over on the floor with such a crash that they +ran in. She'll be turned away to-morrow--and quite time, if they knew as +much as I do.” + +“But didn't you frighten the little one?” + +“She never saw me. The woman would not have seen me either if she had +not been wicked.” + +“Oh!” said Diamond, dubiously. + +“Why should you see things,” returned North Wind, “that you wouldn't +understand or know what to do with? Good people see good things; bad +people, bad things.” + +“Then are you a bad thing?” + +“No. For you see me, Diamond, dear,” said the girl, and she looked down +at him, and Diamond saw the loving eyes of the great lady beaming from +the depths of her falling hair. + +“I had to make myself look like a bad thing before she could see me. If +I had put on any other shape than a wolf's she would not have seen me, +for that is what is growing to be her own shape inside of her.” + +“I don't know what you mean,” said Diamond, “but I suppose it's all +right.” + +They were now climbing the slope of a grassy ascent. It was Primrose +Hill, in fact, although Diamond had never heard of it. The moment they +reached the top, North Wind stood and turned her face towards London The +stars were still shining clear and cold overhead. There was not a cloud +to be seen. The air was sharp, but Diamond did not find it cold. + +“Now,” said the lady, “whatever you do, do not let my hand go. I might +have lost you the last time, only I was not in a hurry then: now I am in +a hurry.” + +Yet she stood still for a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. NORTH WIND + + +AND as she stood looking towards London, Diamond saw that she was +trembling. + +“Are you cold, North Wind?” he asked. + +“No, Diamond,” she answered, looking down upon him with a smile; “I am +only getting ready to sweep one of my rooms. Those careless, greedy, +untidy children make it in such a mess.” + +As she spoke he could have told by her voice, if he had not seen with +his eyes, that she was growing larger and larger. Her head went up and +up towards the stars; and as she grew, still trembling through all her +body, her hair also grew--longer and longer, and lifted itself from her +head, and went out in black waves. The next moment, however, it fell +back around her, and she grew less and less till she was only a tall +woman. Then she put her hands behind her head, and gathered some of her +hair, and began weaving and knotting it together. When she had done, she +bent down her beautiful face close to his, and said-- + +“Diamond, I am afraid you would not keep hold of me, and if I were to +drop you, I don't know what might happen; so I have been making a place +for you in my hair. Come.” + +Diamond held out his arms, for with that grand face looking at him, +he believed like a baby. She took him in her hands, threw him over her +shoulder, and said, “Get in, Diamond.” + +And Diamond parted her hair with his hands, crept between, and feeling +about soon found the woven nest. It was just like a pocket, or like +the shawl in which gipsy women carry their children. North Wind put her +hands to her back, felt all about the nest, and finding it safe, said-- + +“Are you comfortable, Diamond?” + +“Yes, indeed,” answered Diamond. + +The next moment he was rising in the air. North Wind grew towering up to +the place of the clouds. Her hair went streaming out from her, till it +spread like a mist over the stars. She flung herself abroad in space. + +Diamond held on by two of the twisted ropes which, parted and +interwoven, formed his shelter, for he could not help being a little +afraid. As soon as he had come to himself, he peeped through the woven +meshes, for he did not dare to look over the top of the nest. The earth +was rushing past like a river or a sea below him. Trees and water and +green grass hurried away beneath. A great roar of wild animals rose +as they rushed over the Zoological Gardens, mixed with a chattering of +monkeys and a screaming of birds; but it died away in a moment behind +them. And now there was nothing but the roofs of houses, sweeping along +like a great torrent of stones and rocks. Chimney-pots fell, and tiles +flew from the roofs; but it looked to him as if they were left behind +by the roofs and the chimneys as they scudded away. There was a great +roaring, for the wind was dashing against London like a sea; but at +North Wind's back Diamond, of course, felt nothing of it all. He was in +a perfect calm. He could hear the sound of it, that was all. + +By and by he raised himself and looked over the edge of his nest. There +were the houses rushing up and shooting away below him, like a fierce +torrent of rocks instead of water. Then he looked up to the sky, but +could see no stars; they were hidden by the blinding masses of the +lady's hair which swept between. He began to wonder whether she would +hear him if he spoke. He would try. + +“Please, North Wind,” he said, “what is that noise?” + +From high over his head came the voice of North Wind, answering him, +gently-- + +“The noise of my besom. I am the old woman that sweeps the cobwebs from +the sky; only I'm busy with the floor now.” + +“What makes the houses look as if they were running away?” + +“I am sweeping so fast over them.” + +“But, please, North Wind, I knew London was very big, but I didn't know +it was so big as this. It seems as if we should never get away from it.” + +“We are going round and round, else we should have left it long ago.” + +“Is this the way you sweep, North Wind?” + +“Yes; I go round and round with my great besom.” + +“Please, would you mind going a little slower, for I want to see the +streets?” + +“You won't see much now.” + +“Why?” + +“Because I have nearly swept all the people home.” + +“Oh! I forgot,” said Diamond, and was quiet after that, for he did not +want to be troublesome. + +But she dropped a little towards the roofs of the houses, and Diamond +could see down into the streets. There were very few people about, +though. The lamps flickered and flared again, but nobody seemed to want +them. + +Suddenly Diamond espied a little girl coming along a street. She was +dreadfully blown by the wind, and a broom she was trailing behind her +was very troublesome. It seemed as if the wind had a spite at her--it +kept worrying her like a wild beast, and tearing at her rags. She was so +lonely there! + +“Oh! please, North Wind,” he cried, “won't you help that little girl?” + +“No, Diamond; I mustn't leave my work.” + +“But why shouldn't you be kind to her?” + +“I am kind to her. I am sweeping the wicked smells away.” + +“But you're kinder to me, dear North Wind. Why shouldn't you be as kind +to her as you are to me?” + +“There are reasons, Diamond. Everybody can't be done to all the same. +Everybody is not ready for the same thing.” + +“But I don't see why I should be kinder used than she.” + +“Do you think nothing's to be done but what you can see, Diamond, you +silly! It's all right. Of course you can help her if you like. You've +got nothing particular to do at this moment; I have.” + +“Oh! do let me help her, then. But you won't be able to wait, perhaps?” + +“No, I can't wait; you must do it yourself. And, mind, the wind will get +a hold of you, too.” + +“Don't you want me to help her, North Wind?” + +“Not without having some idea what will happen. If you break down and +cry, that won't be much of a help to her, and it will make a goose of +little Diamond.” + +“I want to go,” said Diamond. “Only there's just one thing--how am I to +get home?” + +“If you're anxious about that, perhaps you had better go with me. I am +bound to take you home again, if you do.” + +“There!” cried Diamond, who was still looking after the little girl. +“I'm sure the wind will blow her over, and perhaps kill her. Do let me +go.” + +They had been sweeping more slowly along the line of the street. There +was a lull in the roaring. + +“Well, though I cannot promise to take you home,” said North Wind, as +she sank nearer and nearer to the tops of the houses, “I can promise +you it will be all right in the end. You will get home somehow. Have you +made up your mind what to do?” + +“Yes; to help the little girl,” said Diamond firmly. + +The same moment North Wind dropt into the street and stood, only a tall +lady, but with her hair flying up over the housetops. She put her hands +to her back, took Diamond, and set him down in the street. The same +moment he was caught in the fierce coils of the blast, and all but blown +away. North Wind stepped back a step, and at once towered in stature to +the height of the houses. A chimney-pot clashed at Diamond's feet. He +turned in terror, but it was to look for the little girl, and when he +turned again the lady had vanished, and the wind was roaring along the +street as if it had been the bed of an invisible torrent. The little +girl was scudding before the blast, her hair flying too, and behind her +she dragged her broom. Her little legs were going as fast as ever they +could to keep her from falling. Diamond crept into the shelter of a +doorway, thinking to stop her; but she passed him like a bird, crying +gently and pitifully. + +“Stop! stop! little girl,” shouted Diamond, starting in pursuit. + +“I can't,” wailed the girl, “the wind won't leave go of me.” + +Diamond could run faster than she, and he had no broom. In a few moments +he had caught her by the frock, but it tore in his hand, and away went +the little girl. So he had to run again, and this time he ran so fast +that he got before her, and turning round caught her in his arms, when +down they went both together, which made the little girl laugh in the +midst of her crying. + +“Where are you going?” asked Diamond, rubbing the elbow that had stuck +farthest out. The arm it belonged to was twined round a lamp-post as he +stood between the little girl and the wind. + +“Home,” she said, gasping for breath. + +“Then I will go with you,” said Diamond. + +And then they were silent for a while, for the wind blew worse than +ever, and they had both to hold on to the lamp-post. + +“Where is your crossing?” asked the girl at length. + +“I don't sweep,” answered Diamond. + +“What do you do, then?” asked she. “You ain't big enough for most +things.” + +“I don't know what I do do,” answered he, feeling rather ashamed. +“Nothing, I suppose. My father's Mr. Coleman's coachman.” + +“Have you a father?” she said, staring at him as if a boy with a father +was a natural curiosity. + +“Yes. Haven't you?” returned Diamond. + +“No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got.” And she began to cry +again. + +“I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me,” said Diamond. + +“But you must go somewheres.” + +“Move on,” said the voice of a policeman behind them. + +“I told you so,” said the girl. “You must go somewheres. They're always +at it.” + +“But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?” + +“I wish she would.” + +“What do you mean?” asked Diamond, quite bewildered. + +“She would if she was my mother. But she wouldn't lie abed a-cuddlin' of +her ugly old bones, and laugh to hear me crying at the door.” + +“You don't mean she won't let you in to-night?” + +“It'll be a good chance if she does.” + +“Why are you out so late, then?” asked Diamond. + +“My crossing's a long way off at the West End, and I had been indulgin' +in door-steps and mewses.” + +“We'd better have a try anyhow,” said Diamond. “Come along.” + +As he spoke Diamond thought he caught a glimpse of North Wind turning a +corner in front of them; and when they turned the corner too, they found +it quiet there, but he saw nothing of the lady. + +“Now you lead me,” he said, taking her hand, “and I'll take care of +you.” + +The girl withdrew her hand, but only to dry her eyes with her frock, for +the other had enough to do with her broom. She put it in his again, and +led him, turning after turning, until they stopped at a cellar-door in a +very dirty lane. There she knocked. + +“I shouldn't like to live here,” said Diamond. + +“Oh, yes, you would, if you had nowhere else to go to,” answered the +girl. “I only wish we may get in.” + +“I don't want to go in,” said Diamond. + +“Where do you mean to go, then?” + +“Home to my home.” + +“Where's that?” + +“I don't exactly know.” + +“Then you're worse off than I am.” + +“Oh no, for North Wind--” began Diamond, and stopped, he hardly knew +why. + +“What?” said the girl, as she held her ear to the door listening. + +But Diamond did not reply. Neither did old Sal. + +“I told you so,” said the girl. “She is wide awake hearkening. But we +don't get in.” + +“What will you do, then?” asked Diamond. + +“Move on,” she answered. + +“Where?” + +“Oh, anywheres. Bless you, I'm used to it.” + +“Hadn't you better come home with me, then?” + +“That's a good joke, when you don't know where it is. Come on.” + +“But where?” + +“Oh, nowheres in particular. Come on.” + +Diamond obeyed. The wind had now fallen considerably. They wandered on +and on, turning in this direction and that, without any reason for one +way more than another, until they had got out of the thick of the houses +into a waste kind of place. By this time they were both very tired. +Diamond felt a good deal inclined to cry, and thought he had been very +silly to get down from the back of North Wind; not that he would have +minded it if he had done the girl any good; but he thought he had been +of no use to her. He was mistaken there, for she was far happier for +having Diamond with her than if she had been wandering about alone. She +did not seem so tired as he was. + +“Do let us rest a bit,” said Diamond. + +“Let's see,” she answered. “There's something like a railway there. +Perhaps there's an open arch.” + +They went towards it and found one, and, better still, there was an +empty barrel lying under the arch. + +“Hallo! here we are!” said the girl. “A barrel's the jolliest bed +going--on the tramp, I mean. We'll have forty winks, and then go on +again.” + +She crept in, and Diamond crept in beside her. They put their arms round +each other, and when he began to grow warm, Diamond's courage began to +come back. + +“This is jolly!” he said. “I'm so glad!” + +“I don't think so much of it,” said the girl. “I'm used to it, I +suppose. But I can't think how a kid like you comes to be out all alone +this time o' night.” + +She called him a kid, but she was not really a month older than he was; +only she had had to work for her bread, and that so soon makes people +older. + +“But I shouldn't have been out so late if I hadn't got down to help +you,” said Diamond. “North Wind is gone home long ago.” + +“I think you must ha' got out o' one o' them Hidget Asylms,” said the +girl. “You said something about the north wind afore that I couldn't get +the rights of.” + +So now, for the sake of his character, Diamond had to tell her the whole +story. + +She did not believe a word of it. She said he wasn't such a flat as to +believe all that bosh. But as she spoke there came a great blast of wind +through the arch, and set the barrel rolling. So they made haste to get +out of it, for they had no notion of being rolled over and over as if +they had been packed tight and wouldn't hurt, like a barrel of herrings. + +“I thought we should have had a sleep,” said Diamond; “but I can't say +I'm very sleepy after all. Come, let's go on again.” + +They wandered on and on, sometimes sitting on a door-step, but always +turning into lanes or fields when they had a chance. + +They found themselves at last on a rising ground that sloped rather +steeply on the other side. It was a waste kind of spot below, bounded by +an irregular wall, with a few doors in it. Outside lay broken things in +general, from garden rollers to flower-pots and wine-bottles. But the +moment they reached the brow of the rising ground, a gust of wind +seized them and blew them down hill as fast as they could run. Nor could +Diamond stop before he went bang against one of the doors in the wall. +To his dismay it burst open. When they came to themselves they peeped +in. It was the back door of a garden. + +“Ah, ah!” cried Diamond, after staring for a few moments, “I thought +so! North Wind takes nobody in! Here I am in master's garden! I tell you +what, little girl, you just bore a hole in old Sal's wall, and put your +mouth to it, and say, 'Please, North Wind, mayn't I go out with you?' +and then you'll see what'll come.” + +“I daresay I shall. But I'm out in the wind too often already to want +more of it.” + +“I said with the North Wind, not in it.” + +“It's all one.” + +“It's not all one.” + +“It is all one.” + +“But I know best.” + +“And I know better. I'll box your ears,” said the girl. + +Diamond got very angry. But he remembered that even if she did box his +ears, he musn't box hers again, for she was a girl, and all that boys +must do, if girls are rude, is to go away and leave them. So he went in +at the door. + +“Good-bye, mister” said the girl. + +This brought Diamond to his senses. + +“I'm sorry I was cross,” he said. “Come in, and my mother will give you +some breakfast.” + +“No, thank you. I must be off to my crossing. It's morning now.” + +“I'm very sorry for you,” said Diamond. + +“Well, it is a life to be tired of--what with old Sal, and so many holes +in my shoes.” + +“I wonder you're so good. I should kill myself.” + +“Oh, no, you wouldn't! When I think of it, I always want to see what's +coming next, and so I always wait till next is over. Well! I suppose +there's somebody happy somewheres. But it ain't in them carriages. Oh +my! how they do look sometimes--fit to bite your head off! Good-bye!” + +She ran up the hill and disappeared behind it. Then Diamond shut the +door as he best could, and ran through the kitchen-garden to the stable. +And wasn't he glad to get into his own blessed bed again! + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE SUMMER-HOUSE + + +DIAMOND said nothing to his mother about his adventures. He had half a +notion that North Wind was a friend of his mother, and that, if she did +not know all about it, at least she did not mind his going anywhere with +the lady of the wind. At the same time he doubted whether he might not +appear to be telling stories if he told all, especially as he could +hardly believe it himself when he thought about it in the middle of the +day, although when the twilight was once half-way on to night he had no +doubt about it, at least for the first few days after he had been with +her. The girl that swept the crossing had certainly refused to believe +him. Besides, he felt sure that North Wind would tell him if he ought to +speak. + +It was some time before he saw the lady of the wind again. Indeed +nothing remarkable took place in Diamond's history until the following +week. This was what happened then. Diamond the horse wanted new shoes, +and Diamond's father took him out of the stable, and was just getting on +his back to ride him to the forge, when he saw his little boy standing +by the pump, and looking at him wistfully. Then the coachman took his +foot out of the stirrup, left his hold of the mane and bridle, came +across to his boy, lifted him up, and setting him on the horse's back, +told him to sit up like a man. He then led away both Diamonds together. + +The boy atop felt not a little tremulous as the great muscles that +lifted the legs of the horse knotted and relaxed against his legs, and +he cowered towards the withers, grasping with his hands the bit of mane +worn short by the collar; but when his father looked back at him, +saying once more, “Sit up, Diamond,” he let the mane go and sat up, +notwithstanding that the horse, thinking, I suppose, that his master +had said to him, “Come up, Diamond,” stepped out faster. For both the +Diamonds were just grandly obedient. And Diamond soon found that, as he +was obedient to his father, so the horse was obedient to him. For he had +not ridden far before he found courage to reach forward and catch hold +of the bridle, and when his father, whose hand was upon it, felt the boy +pull it towards him, he looked up and smiled, and, well pleased, let go +his hold, and left Diamond to guide Diamond; and the boy soon found that +he could do so perfectly. It was a grand thing to be able to guide a +great beast like that. And another discovery he made was that, in order +to guide the horse, he had in a measure to obey the horse first. If he +did not yield his body to the motions of the horse's body, he could not +guide him; he must fall off. + +The blacksmith lived at some distance, deeper into London. As they +crossed the angle of a square, Diamond, who was now quite comfortable +on his living throne, was glancing this way and that in a gentle pride, +when he saw a girl sweeping a crossing scuddingly before a lady. The +lady was his father's mistress, Mrs. Coleman, and the little girl was +she for whose sake he had got off North Wind's back. He drew Diamond's +bridle in eager anxiety to see whether her outstretched hand would +gather a penny from Mrs. Coleman. But she had given one at the last +crossing, and the hand returned only to grasp its broom. Diamond could +not bear it. He had a penny in his pocket, a gift of the same lady the +day before, and he tumbled off his horse to give it to the girl. He +tumbled off, I say, for he did tumble when he reached the ground. But he +got up in an instant, and ran, searching his pocket as he ran. She +made him a pretty courtesy when he offered his treasure, but with a +bewildered stare. She thought first: “Then he was on the back of the +North Wind after all!” but, looking up at the sound of the horse's feet +on the paved crossing, she changed her idea, saying to herself, “North +Wind is his father's horse! That's the secret of it! Why couldn't he say +so?” And she had a mind to refuse the penny. But his smile put it all +right, and she not only took his penny but put it in her mouth with a +“Thank you, mister. Did they wollop you then?” + +“Oh no!” answered Diamond. “They never wollops me.” + +“Lor!” said the little girl, and was speechless. + +Meantime his father, looking up, and seeing the horse's back bare, +suffered a pang of awful dread, but the next moment catching sight of +him, took him up and put him on, saying-- + +“Don't get off again, Diamond. The horse might have put his foot on +you.” + +“No, father,” answered the boy, and rode on in majestic safety. + +The summer drew near, warm and splendid. Miss Coleman was a little +better in health, and sat a good deal in the garden. One day she saw +Diamond peeping through the shrubbery, and called him. He talked to her +so frankly that she often sent for him after that, and by degrees it +came about that he had leave to run in the garden as he pleased. He +never touched any of the flowers or blossoms, for he was not like some +boys who cannot enjoy a thing without pulling it to pieces, and so +preventing every one from enjoying it after them. + +A week even makes such a long time in a child's life, that Diamond had +begun once more to feel as if North Wind were a dream of some far-off +year. + +One hot evening, he had been sitting with the young mistress, as they +called her, in a little summer-house at the bottom of the lawn--a +wonderful thing for beauty, the boy thought, for a little window in the +side of it was made of coloured glass. It grew dusky, and the lady began +to feel chill, and went in, leaving the boy in the summer-house. He sat +there gazing out at a bed of tulips, which, although they had closed for +the night, could not go quite asleep for the wind that kept waving +them about. All at once he saw a great bumble-bee fly out of one of the +tulips. + +“There! that is something done,” said a voice--a gentle, merry, childish +voice, but so tiny. “At last it was. I thought he would have had to stay +there all night, poor fellow! I did.” + +Diamond could not tell whether the voice was near or far away, it was so +small and yet so clear. He had never seen a fairy, but he had heard of +such, and he began to look all about for one. And there was the tiniest +creature sliding down the stem of the tulip! + +“Are you the fairy that herds the bees?” he asked, going out of the +summer-house, and down on his knees on the green shore of the tulip-bed. + +“I'm not a fairy,” answered the little creature. + +“How do you know that?” + +“It would become you better to ask how you are to know it.” + +“You've just told me.” + +“Yes. But what's the use of knowing a thing only because you're told +it?” + +“Well, how am I to know you are not a fairy? You do look very like one.” + +“In the first place, fairies are much bigger than you see me.” + +“Oh!” said Diamond reflectively; “I thought they were very little.” + +“But they might be tremendously bigger than I am, and yet not very big. +Why, I could be six times the size I am, and not be very huge. Besides, +a fairy can't grow big and little at will, though the nursery-tales do +say so: they don't know better. You stupid Diamond! have you never seen +me before?” + +And, as she spoke, a moan of wind bent the tulips almost to the ground, +and the creature laid her hand on Diamond's shoulder. In a moment he +knew that it was North Wind. + +“I am very stupid,” he said; “but I never saw you so small before, not +even when you were nursing the primrose.” + +“Must you see me every size that can be measured before you know me, +Diamond?” + +“But how could I think it was you taking care of a great stupid +bumble-bee?” + +“The more stupid he was the more need he had to be taken care of. What +with sucking honey and trying to open the door, he was nearly dated; and +when it opened in the morning to let the sun see the tulip's heart, what +would the sun have thought to find such a stupid thing lying there--with +wings too?” + +“But how do you have time to look after bees?” + +“I don't look after bees. I had this one to look after. It was hard +work, though.” + +“Hard work! Why, you could blow a chimney down, or--or a boy's cap off,” + said Diamond. + +“Both are easier than to blow a tulip open. But I scarcely know the +difference between hard and easy. I am always able for what I have to +do. When I see my work, I just rush at it--and it is done. But I mustn't +chatter. I have got to sink a ship to-night.” + +“Sink a ship! What! with men in it?” + +“Yes, and women too.” + +“How dreadful! I wish you wouldn't talk so.” + +“It is rather dreadful. But it is my work. I must do it.” + +“I hope you won't ask me to go with you.” + +“No, I won't ask you. But you must come for all that.” + +“I won't then.” + +“Won't you?” And North Wind grew a tall lady, and looked him in the +eyes, and Diamond said-- + +“Please take me. You cannot be cruel.” + +“No; I could not be cruel if I would. I can do nothing cruel, although I +often do what looks like cruel to those who do not know what I really am +doing. The people they say I drown, I only carry away to--to--to--well, +the back of the North Wind--that is what they used to call it long ago, +only I never saw the place.” + +“How can you carry them there if you never saw it?” + +“I know the way.” + +“But how is it you never saw it?” + +“Because it is behind me.” + +“But you can look round.” + +“Not far enough to see my own back. No; I always look before me. In +fact, I grow quite blind and deaf when I try to see my back. I only mind +my work.” + +“But how does it be your work?” + +“Ah, that I can't tell you. I only know it is, because when I do it I +feel all right, and when I don't I feel all wrong. East Wind says--only +one does not exactly know how much to believe of what she says, for she +is very naughty sometimes--she says it is all managed by a baby; but +whether she is good or naughty when she says that, I don't know. I just +stick to my work. It is all one to me to let a bee out of a tulip, or to +sweep the cobwebs from the sky. You would like to go with me to-night?” + +“I don't want to see a ship sunk.” + +“But suppose I had to take you?” + +“Why, then, of course I must go.” + +“There's a good Diamond.--I think I had better be growing a bit. Only +you must go to bed first. I can't take you till you're in bed. That's +the law about the children. So I had better go and do something else +first.” + +“Very well, North Wind,” said Diamond. “What are you going to do first, +if you please?” + +“I think I may tell you. Jump up on the top of the wall, there.” + +“I can't.” + +“Ah! and I can't help you--you haven't been to bed yet, you see. Come +out to the road with me, just in front of the coach-house, and I will +show you.” + +North Wind grew very small indeed, so small that she could not have +blown the dust off a dusty miller, as the Scotch children call a yellow +auricula. Diamond could not even see the blades of grass move as she +flitted along by his foot. They left the lawn, went out by the wicket +in the-coach-house gates, and then crossed the road to the low wall that +separated it from the river. + +“You can get up on this wall, Diamond,” said North Wind. + +“Yes; but my mother has forbidden me.” + +“Then don't,” said North Wind. + +“But I can see over,” said Diamond. + +“Ah! to be sure. I can't.” + +So saying, North Wind gave a little bound, and stood on the top of the +wall. She was just about the height a dragon-fly would be, if it stood +on end. + +“You darling!” said Diamond, seeing what a lovely little toy-woman she +was. + +“Don't be impertinent, Master Diamond,” said North Wind. “If there's one +thing makes me more angry than another, it is the way you humans judge +things by their size. I am quite as respectable now as I shall be six +hours after this, when I take an East Indiaman by the royals, twist her +round, and push her under. You have no right to address me in such a +fashion.” + +But as she spoke, the tiny face wore the smile of a great, grand woman. +She was only having her own beautiful fun out of Diamond, and true +woman's fun never hurts. + +“But look there!” she resumed. “Do you see a boat with one man in it--a +green and white boat?” + +“Yes; quite well.” + +“That's a poet.” + +“I thought you said it was a bo-at.” + +“Stupid pet! Don't you know what a poet is?” + +“Why, a thing to sail on the water in.” + +“Well, perhaps you're not so far wrong. Some poets do carry people over +the sea. But I have no business to talk so much. The man is a poet.” + +“The boat is a boat,” said Diamond. + +“Can't you spell?” asked North Wind. + +“Not very well.” + +“So I see. A poet is not a bo-at, as you call it. A poet is a man who is +glad of something, and tries to make other people glad of it too.” + +“Ah! now I know. Like the man in the sweety-shop.” + +“Not very. But I see it is no use. I wasn't sent to tell you, and so I +can't tell you. I must be off. Only first just look at the man.” + +“He's not much of a rower” said Diamond--“paddling first with one fin +and then with the other.” + +“Now look here!” said North Wind. + +And she flashed like a dragon-fly across the water, whose surface +rippled and puckered as she passed. The next moment the man in the boat +glanced about him, and bent to his oars. The boat flew over the rippling +water. Man and boat and river were awake. The same instant almost, North +Wind perched again upon the river wall. + +“How did you do that?” asked Diamond. + +“I blew in his face,” answered North Wind. “I don't see how that could +do it,” said Diamond. “I daresay not. And therefore you will say you +don't believe it could.” + +“No, no, dear North Wind. I know you too well not to believe you.” + +“Well, I blew in his face, and that woke him up.” + +“But what was the good of it?” + +“Why! don't you see? Look at him--how he is pulling. I blew the mist out +of him.” + +“How was that?” + +“That is just what I cannot tell you.” + +“But you did it.” + +“Yes. I have to do ten thousand things without being able to tell how.” + +“I don't like that,” said Diamond. + +He was staring after the boat. Hearing no answer, he looked down to the +wall. + +North Wind was gone. Away across the river went a long ripple--what +sailors call a cat's paw. The man in the boat was putting up a sail. The +moon was coming to herself on the edge of a great cloud, and the sail +began to shine white. Diamond rubbed his eyes, and wondered what it was +all about. Things seemed going on around him, and all to understand +each other, but he could make nothing of it. So he put his hands in his +pockets, and went in to have his tea. The night was very hot, for the +wind had fallen again. + +“You don't seem very well to-night, Diamond,” said his mother. + +“I am quite well, mother,” returned Diamond, who was only puzzled. + +“I think you had better go to bed,” she added. + +“Very well, mother,” he answered. + +He stopped for one moment to look out of the window. Above the moon the +clouds were going different ways. Somehow or other this troubled him, +but, notwithstanding, he was soon fast asleep. + +He woke in the middle of the night and the darkness. A terrible noise +was rumbling overhead, like the rolling beat of great drums echoing +through a brazen vault. The roof of the loft in which he lay had no +ceiling; only the tiles were between him and the sky. For a while he +could not come quite awake, for the noise kept beating him down, so that +his heart was troubled and fluttered painfully. A second peal of thunder +burst over his head, and almost choked him with fear. Nor did he recover +until the great blast that followed, having torn some tiles off the +roof, sent a spout of wind down into his bed and over his face, which +brought him wide awake, and gave him back his courage. The same moment +he heard a mighty yet musical voice calling him. + +“Come up, Diamond,” it said. “It's all ready. I'm waiting for you.” + +He looked out of the bed, and saw a gigantic, powerful, but most lovely +arm--with a hand whose fingers were nothing the less ladylike that they +could have strangled a boa-constrictor, or choked a tigress off its +prey--stretched down through a big hole in the roof. Without a moment's +hesitation he reached out his tiny one, and laid it in the grand palm +before him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. OUT IN THE STORM + + +THE hand felt its way up his arm, and, grasping it gently and strongly +above the elbow, lifted Diamond from the bed. The moment he was through +the hole in the roof, all the winds of heaven seemed to lay hold upon +him, and buffet him hither and thither. His hair blew one way, his +night-gown another, his legs threatened to float from under him, and +his head to grow dizzy with the swiftness of the invisible assailant. +Cowering, he clung with the other hand to the huge hand which held his +arm, and fear invaded his heart. + +“Oh, North Wind!” he murmured, but the words vanished from his lips as +he had seen the soap-bubbles that burst too soon vanish from the mouth +of his pipe. The wind caught them, and they were nowhere. They couldn't +get out at all, but were torn away and strangled. And yet North Wind +heard them, and in her answer it seemed to Diamond that just because she +was so big and could not help it, and just because her ear and her mouth +must seem to him so dreadfully far away, she spoke to him more tenderly +and graciously than ever before. Her voice was like the bass of a deep +organ, without the groan in it; like the most delicate of violin tones +without the wail in it; like the most glorious of trumpet-ejaculations +without the defiance in it; like the sound of falling water without +the clatter and clash in it: it was like all of them and neither +of them--all of them without their faults, each of them without its +peculiarity: after all, it was more like his mother's voice than +anything else in the world. + +“Diamond, dear,” she said, “be a man. What is fearful to you is not the +least fearful to me.” + +“But it can't hurt you,” murmured Diamond, “for you're it.” + +“Then if I'm it, and have you in my arms, how can it hurt you?” + +“Oh yes! I see,” whispered Diamond. “But it looks so dreadful, and it +pushes me about so.” + +“Yes, it does, my dear. That is what it was sent for.” + +At the same moment, a peal of thunder which shook Diamond's heart +against the sides of his bosom hurtled out of the heavens: I cannot +say out of the sky, for there was no sky. Diamond had not seen the +lightning, for he had been intent on finding the face of North Wind. +Every moment the folds of her garment would sweep across his eyes and +blind him, but between, he could just persuade himself that he saw great +glories of woman's eyes looking down through rifts in the mountainous +clouds over his head. + +He trembled so at the thunder, that his knees failed him, and he sunk +down at North Wind's feet, and clasped her round the column of her +ankle. She instantly stooped, lifted him from the roof--up--up into her +bosom, and held him there, saying, as if to an inconsolable child-- + +“Diamond, dear, this will never do.” + +“Oh yes, it will,” answered Diamond. “I am all right now--quite +comfortable, I assure you, dear North Wind. If you will only let me stay +here, I shall be all right indeed.” + +“But you will feel the wind here, Diamond.” + +“I don't mind that a bit, so long as I feel your arms through it,” + answered Diamond, nestling closer to her grand bosom. + +“Brave boy!” returned North Wind, pressing him closer. + +“No,” said Diamond, “I don't see that. It's not courage at all, so long +as I feel you there.” + +“But hadn't you better get into my hair? Then you would not feel the +wind; you will here.” + +“Ah, but, dear North Wind, you don't know how nice it is to feel your +arms about me. It is a thousand times better to have them and the wind +together, than to have only your hair and the back of your neck and no +wind at all.” + +“But it is surely more comfortable there?” + +“Well, perhaps; but I begin to think there are better things than being +comfortable.” + +“Yes, indeed there are. Well, I will keep you in front of me. You will +feel the wind, but not too much. I shall only want one arm to take care +of you; the other will be quite enough to sink the ship.” + +“Oh, dear North Wind! how can you talk so?” + +“My dear boy, I never talk; I always mean what I say.” + +“Then you do mean to sink the ship with the other hand?” + +“Yes.” + +“It's not like you.” + +“How do you know that?” + +“Quite easily. Here you are taking care of a poor little boy with one +arm, and there you are sinking a ship with the other. It can't be like +you.” + +“Ah! but which is me? I can't be two mes, you know.” + +“No. Nobody can be two mes.” + +“Well, which me is me?” + +“Now I must think. There looks to be two.” + +“Yes. That's the very point.--You can't be knowing the thing you don't +know, can you?” + +“No.” + +“Which me do you know?” + +“The kindest, goodest, best me in the world,” answered Diamond, clinging +to North Wind. + +“Why am I good to you?” + +“I don't know.” + +“Have you ever done anything for me?” + +“No.” + +“Then I must be good to you because I choose to be good to you.” + +“Yes.” + +“Why should I choose?” + +“Because--because--because you like.” + +“Why should I like to be good to you?” + +“I don't know, except it be because it's good to be good to me.” + +“That's just it; I am good to you because I like to be good.” + +“Then why shouldn't you be good to other people as well as to me?” + +“That's just what I don't know. Why shouldn't I?” + +“I don't know either. Then why shouldn't you?” + +“Because I am.” + +“There it is again,” said Diamond. “I don't see that you are. It looks +quite the other thing.” + +“Well, but listen to me, Diamond. You know the one me, you say, and that +is good.” + +“Yes.” + +“Do you know the other me as well?” + +“No. I can't. I shouldn't like to.” + +“There it is. You don't know the other me. You are sure of one of them?” + +“Yes.” + +“And you are sure there can't be two mes?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then the me you don't know must be the same as the me you do +know,--else there would be two mes?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then the other me you don't know must be as kind as the me you do +know?” + +“Yes.” + +“Besides, I tell you that it is so, only it doesn't look like it. That I +confess freely. Have you anything more to object?” + +“No, no, dear North Wind; I am quite satisfied.” + +“Then I will tell you something you might object. You might say that the +me you know is like the other me, and that I am cruel all through.” + +“I know that can't be, because you are so kind.” + +“But that kindness might be only a pretence for the sake of being more +cruel afterwards.” + +Diamond clung to her tighter than ever, crying-- + +“No, no, dear North Wind; I can't believe that. I don't believe it. I +won't believe it. That would kill me. I love you, and you must love me, +else how did I come to love you? How could you know how to put on such a +beautiful face if you did not love me and the rest? No. You may sink +as many ships as you like, and I won't say another word. I can't say I +shall like to see it, you know.” + +“That's quite another thing,” said North Wind; and as she spoke she gave +one spring from the roof of the hay-loft, and rushed up into the clouds, +with Diamond on her left arm close to her heart. And as if the clouds +knew she had come, they burst into a fresh jubilation of thunderous +light. For a few moments, Diamond seemed to be borne up through the +depths of an ocean of dazzling flame; the next, the winds were writhing +around him like a storm of serpents. For they were in the midst of +the clouds and mists, and they of course took the shapes of the wind, +eddying and wreathing and whirling and shooting and dashing about like +grey and black water, so that it was as if the wind itself had taken +shape, and he saw the grey and black wind tossing and raving most madly +all about him. Now it blinded him by smiting him upon the eyes; now it +deafened him by bellowing in his ears; for even when the thunder came he +knew now that it was the billows of the great ocean of the air dashing +against each other in their haste to fill the hollow scooped out by the +lightning; now it took his breath quite away by sucking it from his body +with the speed of its rush. But he did not mind it. He only gasped first +and then laughed, for the arm of North Wind was about him, and he was +leaning against her bosom. It is quite impossible for me to describe +what he saw. Did you ever watch a great wave shoot into a winding +passage amongst rocks? If you ever did, you would see that the water +rushed every way at once, some of it even turning back and opposing +the rest; greater confusion you might see nowhere except in a crowd of +frightened people. Well, the wind was like that, except that it went +much faster, and therefore was much wilder, and twisted and shot and +curled and dodged and clashed and raved ten times more madly than +anything else in creation except human passions. Diamond saw the threads +of the lady's hair streaking it all. In parts indeed he could not tell +which was hair and which was black storm and vapour. It seemed sometimes +that all the great billows of mist-muddy wind were woven out of the +crossing lines of North Wind's infinite hair, sweeping in endless +intertwistings. And Diamond felt as the wind seized on his hair, which +his mother kept rather long, as if he too was a part of the storm, and +some of its life went out from him. But so sheltered was he by North +Wind's arm and bosom that only at times, in the fiercer onslaught of +some curl-billowed eddy, did he recognise for a moment how wild was the +storm in which he was carried, nestling in its very core and formative +centre. + +It seemed to Diamond likewise that they were motionless in this centre, +and that all the confusion and fighting went on around them. Flash after +flash illuminated the fierce chaos, revealing in varied yellow and blue +and grey and dusky red the vapourous contention; peal after peal of +thunder tore the infinite waste; but it seemed to Diamond that North +Wind and he were motionless, all but the hair. It was not so. They were +sweeping with the speed of the wind itself towards the sea. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE CATHEDRAL + + +I MUST not go on describing what cannot be described, for nothing is +more wearisome. + +Before they reached the sea, Diamond felt North Wind's hair just +beginning to fall about him. + +“Is the storm over, North Wind?” he called out. + +“No, Diamond. I am only waiting a moment to set you down. You would not +like to see the ship sunk, and I am going to give you a place to stop in +till I come back for you.” + +“Oh! thank you,” said Diamond. “I shall be sorry to leave you, North +Wind, but I would rather not see the ship go down. And I'm afraid the +poor people will cry, and I should hear them. Oh, dear!” + +“There are a good many passengers on board; and to tell the truth, +Diamond, I don't care about your hearing the cry you speak of. I am +afraid you would not get it out of your little head again for a long +time.” + +“But how can you bear it then, North Wind? For I am sure you are kind. I +shall never doubt that again.” + +“I will tell you how I am able to bear it, Diamond: I am always hearing, +through every noise, through all the noise I am making myself even, the +sound of a far-off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it +means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it +were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in +which I make such a storm; but what I do hear is quite enough to make +me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you +could hear it.” + +“No, it wouldn't,” returned Diamond, stoutly. “For they wouldn't hear +the music of the far-away song; and if they did, it wouldn't do them +any good. You see you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might +enjoy it.” + +“But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it is like. +Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; that it is +coming to swallow up all cries.” + +“But that won't do them any good--the people, I mean,” persisted +Diamond. + +“It must. It must,” said North Wind, hurriedly. “It wouldn't be the song +it seems to be if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain too, and +set them singing it themselves with the rest. I am sure it will. And do +you know, ever since I knew I had hair, that is, ever since it began +to go out and away, that song has been coming nearer and nearer. Only I +must say it was some thousand years before I heard it.” + +“But how can you say it was coming nearer when you did not hear it?” + asked doubting little Diamond. + +“Since I began to hear it, I know it is growing louder, therefore I +judge it was coming nearer and nearer until I did hear it first. I'm not +so very old, you know--a few thousand years only--and I was quite a baby +when I heard the noise first, but I knew it must come from the voices +of people ever so much older and wiser than I was. I can't sing at all, +except now and then, and I can never tell what my song is going to be; I +only know what it is after I have sung it.--But this will never do. Will +you stop here?” + +“I can't see anywhere to stop,” said Diamond. “Your hair is all down +like a darkness, and I can't see through it if I knock my eyes into it +ever so much.” + +“Look, then,” said North Wind; and, with one sweep of her great white +arm, she swept yards deep of darkness like a great curtain from before +the face of the boy. + +And lo! it was a blue night, lit up with stars. Where it did not shine +with stars it shimmered with the milk of the stars, except where, just +opposite to Diamond's face, the grey towers of a cathedral blotted out +each its own shape of sky and stars. + +“Oh! what's that?” cried Diamond, struck with a kind of terror, for he +had never seen a cathedral, and it rose before him with an awful reality +in the midst of the wide spaces, conquering emptiness with grandeur. + +“A very good place for you to wait in,” said North Wind. “But we shall +go in, and you shall judge for yourself.” + +There was an open door in the middle of one of the towers, leading out +upon the roof, and through it they passed. Then North Wind set Diamond +on his feet, and he found himself at the top of a stone stair, which +went twisting away down into the darkness for only a little light came +in at the door. It was enough, however, to allow Diamond to see that +North Wind stood beside him. He looked up to find her face, and saw that +she was no longer a beautiful giantess, but the tall gracious lady he +liked best to see. She took his hand, and, giving him the broad part +of the spiral stair to walk on, led him down a good way; then, opening +another little door, led him out upon a narrow gallery that ran all +round the central part of the church, on the ledges of the windows +of the clerestory, and through openings in the parts of the wall that +divided the windows from each other. It was very narrow, and except when +they were passing through the wall, Diamond saw nothing to keep him +from falling into the church. It lay below him like a great silent gulf +hollowed in stone, and he held his breath for fear as he looked down. + +“What are you trembling for, little Diamond?” said the lady, as she +walked gently along, with her hand held out behind her leading him, for +there was not breadth enough for them to walk side by side. + +“I am afraid of falling down there,” answered Diamond. “It is so deep +down.” + +“Yes, rather,” answered North Wind; “but you were a hundred times higher +a few minutes ago.” + +“Ah, yes, but somebody's arm was about me then,” said Diamond, putting +his little mouth to the beautiful cold hand that had a hold of his. + +“What a dear little warm mouth you've got!” said North Wind. “It is a +pity you should talk nonsense with it. Don't you know I have a hold of +you?” + +“Yes; but I'm walking on my own legs, and they might slip. I can't trust +myself so well as your arms.” + +“But I have a hold of you, I tell you, foolish child.” + +“Yes, but somehow I can't feel comfortable.” + +“If you were to fall, and my hold of you were to give way, I should be +down after you in a less moment than a lady's watch can tick, and catch +you long before you had reached the ground.” + +“I don't like it though,” said Diamond. + +“Oh! oh! oh!” he screamed the next moment, bent double with terror, for +North Wind had let go her hold of his hand, and had vanished, leaving +him standing as if rooted to the gallery. + +She left the words, “Come after me,” sounding in his ears. + +But move he dared not. In a moment more he would from very terror have +fallen into the church, but suddenly there came a gentle breath of cool +wind upon his face, and it kept blowing upon him in little puffs, and at +every puff Diamond felt his faintness going away, and his fear with it. +Courage was reviving in his little heart, and still the cool wafts of +the soft wind breathed upon him, and the soft wind was so mighty and +strong within its gentleness, that in a minute more Diamond was marching +along the narrow ledge as fearless for the time as North Wind herself. + +He walked on and on, with the windows all in a row on one side of him, +and the great empty nave of the church echoing to every one of his brave +strides on the other, until at last he came to a little open door, from +which a broader stair led him down and down and down, till at last all +at once he found himself in the arms of North Wind, who held him close +to her, and kissed him on the forehead. Diamond nestled to her, and +murmured into her bosom,--“Why did you leave me, dear North Wind?” + +“Because I wanted you to walk alone,” she answered. + +“But it is so much nicer here!” said Diamond. + +“I daresay; but I couldn't hold a little coward to my heart. It would +make me so cold!” + +“But I wasn't brave of myself,” said Diamond, whom my older readers will +have already discovered to be a true child in this, that he was given to +metaphysics. “It was the wind that blew in my face that made me brave. +Wasn't it now, North Wind?” + +“Yes: I know that. You had to be taught what courage was. And you +couldn't know what it was without feeling it: therefore it was given +you. But don't you feel as if you would try to be brave yourself next +time?” + +“Yes, I do. But trying is not much.” + +“Yes, it is--a very great deal, for it is a beginning. And a beginning +is the greatest thing of all. To try to be brave is to be brave. The +coward who tries to be brave is before the man who is brave because he +is made so, and never had to try.” + +“How kind you are, North Wind!” + +“I am only just. All kindness is but justice. We owe it.” + +“I don't quite understand that.” + +“Never mind; you will some day. There is no hurry about understanding it +now.” + +“Who blew the wind on me that made me brave?” + +“I did.” + +“I didn't see you.” + +“Therefore you can believe me.” + +“Yes, yes; of course. But how was it that such a little breath could be +so strong?” + +“That I don't know.” + +“But you made it strong?” + +“No: I only blew it. I knew it would make you strong, just as it did the +man in the boat, you remember. But how my breath has that power I cannot +tell. It was put into it when I was made. That is all I know. But really +I must be going about my work.” + +“Ah! the poor ship! I wish you would stop here, and let the poor ship +go.” + +“That I dare not do. Will you stop here till I come back?” + +“Yes. You won't be long?” + +“Not longer than I can help. Trust me, you shall get home before the +morning.” + +In a moment North Wind was gone, and the next Diamond heard a moaning +about the church, which grew and grew to a roaring. The storm was up +again, and he knew that North Wind's hair was flying. + +The church was dark. Only a little light came through the windows, which +were almost all of that precious old stained glass which is so much +lovelier than the new. But Diamond could not see how beautiful they +were, for there was not enough of light in the stars to show the colours +of them. He could only just distinguish them from the walls, He looked +up, but could not see the gallery along which he had passed. He could +only tell where it was far up by the faint glimmer of the windows of +the clerestory, whose sills made part of it. The church grew very lonely +about him, and he began to feel like a child whose mother has forsaken +it. Only he knew that to be left alone is not always to be forsaken. + +He began to feel his way about the place, and for a while went wandering +up and down. His little footsteps waked little answering echoes in the +great house. It wasn't too big to mind him. It was as if the church knew +he was there, and meant to make itself his house. So it went on giving +back an answer to every step, until at length Diamond thought he should +like to say something out loud, and see what the church would answer. +But he found he was afraid to speak. He could not utter a word for fear +of the loneliness. Perhaps it was as well that he did not, for the sound +of a spoken word would have made him feel the place yet more deserted +and empty. But he thought he could sing. He was fond of singing, and +at home he used to sing, to tunes of his own, all the nursery rhymes he +knew. So he began to try `Hey diddle diddle', but it wouldn't do. Then +he tried `Little Boy Blue', but it was no better. Neither would `Sing a +Song of Sixpence' sing itself at all. Then he tried `Poor old Cockytoo', +but he wouldn't do. They all sounded so silly! and he had never thought +them silly before. So he was quiet, and listened to the echoes that came +out of the dark corners in answer to his footsteps. + +At last he gave a great sigh, and said, “I'm so tired.” But he did not +hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head, for at +the same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps that stretched +across the church, and fell down and hurt his arm. He cried a little +first, and then crawled up the steps on his hands and knees. At the top +he came to a little bit of carpet, on which he lay down; and there he +lay staring at the dull window that rose nearly a hundred feet above his +head. + +Now this was the eastern window of the church, and the moon was at that +moment just on the edge of the horizon. The next, she was peeping over +it. And lo! with the moon, St. John and St. Paul, and the rest of them, +began to dawn in the window in their lovely garments. Diamond did not +know that the wonder-working moon was behind, and he thought all the +light was coming out of the window itself, and that the good old men +were appearing to help him, growing out of the night and the darkness, +because he had hurt his arm, and was very tired and lonely, and North +Wind was so long in coming. So he lay and looked at them backwards over +his head, wondering when they would come down or what they would do +next. They were very dim, for the moonlight was not strong enough for +the colours, and he had enough to do with his eyes trying to make out +their shapes. So his eyes grew tired, and more and more tired, and his +eyelids grew so heavy that they would keep tumbling down over his eyes. +He kept lifting them and lifting them, but every time they were heavier +than the last. It was no use: they were too much for him. Sometimes +before he had got them half up, down they were again; and at length he +gave it up quite, and the moment he gave it up, he was fast asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE EAST WINDOW + + +THAT Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange +things he now fancied as taking place. For he thought he heard a sound +as of whispering up in the great window. He tried to open his eyes, but +he could not. And the whispering went on and grew louder and louder, +until he could hear every word that was said. He thought it was the +Apostles talking about him. But he could not open his eyes. + +“And how comes he to be lying there, St. Peter?” said one. + +“I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery, under the Nicodemus +window. Perhaps he has fallen down. + +“What do you think, St. Matthew?” + +“I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such a +height. He must have been killed.” + +“What are we to do with him? We can't leave him lying there. And we +could not make him comfortable up here in the window: it's rather +crowded already. What do you say, St. Thomas?” + +“Let's go down and look at him.” + +There came a rustling, and a chinking, for some time, and then there was +a silence, and Diamond felt somehow that all the Apostles were standing +round him and looking down on him. And still he could not open his eyes. + +“What is the matter with him, St. Luke?” asked one. + +“There's nothing the matter with him,” answered St. Luke, who must +have joined the company of the Apostles from the next window, one would +think. “He's in a sound sleep.” + +“I have it,” cried another. “This is one of North Wind's tricks. She +has caught him up and dropped him at our door, like a withered leaf or a +foundling baby. I don't understand that woman's conduct, I must say. As +if we hadn't enough to do with our money, without going taking care +of other people's children! That's not what our forefathers built +cathedrals for.” + +Now Diamond could not bear to hear such things against North Wind, who, +he knew, never played anybody a trick. She was far too busy with her own +work for that. He struggled hard to open his eyes, but without success. + +“She should consider that a church is not a place for pranks, not to +mention that we live in it,” said another. + +“It certainly is disrespectful of her. But she always is disrespectful. +What right has she to bang at our windows as she has been doing the +whole of this night? I daresay there is glass broken somewhere. I know +my blue robe is in a dreadful mess with the rain first and the dust +after. It will cost me shillings to clean it.” + +Then Diamond knew that they could not be Apostles, talking like this. +They could only be the sextons and vergers and such-like, who got up at +night, and put on the robes of deans and bishops, and called each other +grand names, as the foolish servants he had heard his father tell of +call themselves lords and ladies, after their masters and mistresses. +And he was so angry at their daring to abuse North Wind, that he jumped +up, crying--“North Wind knows best what she is about. She has a good +right to blow the cobwebs from your windows, for she was sent to do it. +She sweeps them away from grander places, I can tell you, for I've been +with her at it.” + +This was what he began to say, but as he spoke his eyes came wide open, +and behold, there were neither Apostles nor vergers there--not even a +window with the effigies of holy men in it, but a dark heap of hay all +about him, and the little panes in the roof of his loft glimmering blue +in the light of the morning. Old Diamond was coming awake down below in +the stable. In a moment more he was on his feet, and shaking himself so +that young Diamond's bed trembled under him. + +“He's grand at shaking himself,” said Diamond. “I wish I could shake +myself like that. But then I can wash myself, and he can't. What fun +it would be to see Old Diamond washing his face with his hoofs and iron +shoes! Wouldn't it be a picture?” + +So saying, he got up and dressed himself. Then he went out into the +garden. There must have been a tremendous wind in the night, for +although all was quiet now, there lay the little summer-house crushed +to the ground, and over it the great elm-tree, which the wind had broken +across, being much decayed in the middle. Diamond almost cried to see +the wilderness of green leaves, which used to be so far up in the blue +air, tossing about in the breeze, and liking it best when the wind blew +it most, now lying so near the ground, and without any hope of ever +getting up into the deep air again. + +“I wonder how old the tree is!” thought Diamond. “It must take a long +time to get so near the sky as that poor tree was.” + +“Yes, indeed,” said a voice beside him, for Diamond had spoken the last +words aloud. + +Diamond started, and looking around saw a clergyman, a brother of Mrs. +Coleman, who happened to be visiting her. He was a great scholar, and +was in the habit of rising early. + +“Who are you, my man?” he added. + +“Little Diamond,” answered the boy. + +“Oh! I have heard of you. How do you come to be up so early?” + +“Because the sham Apostles talked such nonsense, they waked me up.” + +The clergyman stared. Diamond saw that he had better have held his +tongue, for he could not explain things. + +“You must have been dreaming, my little man,” said he. “Dear! dear!” he +went on, looking at the tree, “there has been terrible work here. This +is the north wind's doing. What a pity! I wish we lived at the back of +it, I'm sure.” + +“Where is that sir?” asked Diamond. + +“Away in the Hyperborean regions,” answered the clergyman, smiling. + +“I never heard of the place,” returned Diamond. + +“I daresay not,” answered the clergyman; “but if this tree had been +there now, it would not have been blown down, for there is no wind +there.” + +“But, please, sir, if it had been there,” said Diamond, “we should not +have had to be sorry for it.” + +“Certainly not.” + +“Then we shouldn't have had to be glad for it, either.” + +“You're quite right, my boy,” said the clergyman, looking at him very +kindly, as he turned away to the house, with his eyes bent towards the +earth. But Diamond thought within himself, “I will ask North Wind next +time I see her to take me to that country. I think she did speak about +it once before.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. HOW DIAMOND GOT TO THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +WHEN Diamond went home to breakfast, he found his father and mother +already seated at the table. They were both busy with their bread and +butter, and Diamond sat himself down in his usual place. His mother +looked up at him, and, after watching him for a moment, said: + +“I don't think the boy is looking well, husband.” + +“Don't you? Well, I don't know. I think he looks pretty bobbish. How do +you feel yourself, Diamond, my boy?” + +“Quite well, thank you, father; at least, I think I've got a little +headache.” + +“There! I told you,” said his father and mother both at once. + +“The child's very poorly” added his mother. + +“The child's quite well,” added his father. + +And then they both laughed. + +“You see,” said his mother, “I've had a letter from my sister at +Sandwich.” + +“Sleepy old hole!” said his father. + +“Don't abuse the place; there's good people in it,” said his mother. + +“Right, old lady,” returned his father; “only I don't believe there are +more than two pair of carriage-horses in the whole blessed place.” + +“Well, people can get to heaven without carriages--or coachmen either, +husband. Not that I should like to go without my coachman, you know. But +about the boy?” + +“What boy?” + +“That boy, there, staring at you with his goggle-eyes.” + +“Have I got goggle-eyes, mother?” asked Diamond, a little dismayed. + +“Not too goggle,” said his mother, who was quite proud of her boy's +eyes, only did not want to make him vain. + +“Not too goggle; only you need not stare so.” + +“Well, what about him?” said his father. + +“I told you I had got a letter.” + +“Yes, from your sister; not from Diamond.” + +“La, husband! you've got out of bed the wrong leg first this morning, I +do believe.” + +“I always get out with both at once,” said his father, laughing. + +“Well, listen then. His aunt wants the boy to go down and see her.” + +“And that's why you want to make out that he ain't looking well.” + +“No more he is. I think he had better go.” + +“Well, I don't care, if you can find the money,” said his father. + +“I'll manage that,” said his mother; and so it was agreed that Diamond +should go to Sandwich. + +I will not describe the preparations Diamond made. You would have +thought he had been going on a three months' voyage. Nor will I describe +the journey, for our business is now at the place. He was met at the +station by his aunt, a cheerful middle-aged woman, and conveyed in +safety to the sleepy old town, as his father called it. And no wonder +that it was sleepy, for it was nearly dead of old age. + +Diamond went about staring with his beautiful goggle-eyes, at the quaint +old streets, and the shops, and the houses. Everything looked very +strange, indeed; for here was a town abandoned by its nurse, the sea, +like an old oyster left on the shore till it gaped for weariness. It +used to be one of the five chief seaports in England, but it began to +hold itself too high, and the consequence was the sea grew less and less +intimate with it, gradually drew back, and kept more to itself, till at +length it left it high and dry: Sandwich was a seaport no more; the sea +went on with its own tide-business a long way off, and forgot it. Of +course it went to sleep, and had no more to do with ships. That's what +comes to cities and nations, and boys and girls, who say, “I can do +without your help. I'm enough for myself.” + +Diamond soon made great friends with an old woman who kept a toyshop, +for his mother had given him twopence for pocket-money before he left, +and he had gone into her shop to spend it, and she got talking to him. +She looked very funny, because she had not got any teeth, but Diamond +liked her, and went often to her shop, although he had nothing to spend +there after the twopence was gone. + +One afternoon he had been wandering rather wearily about the streets +for some time. It was a hot day, and he felt tired. As he passed the +toyshop, he stepped in. + +“Please may I sit down for a minute on this box?” he said, thinking the +old woman was somewhere in the shop. But he got no answer, and sat down +without one. Around him were a great many toys of all prices, from a +penny up to shillings. All at once he heard a gentle whirring somewhere +amongst them. It made him start and look behind him. There were the +sails of a windmill going round and round almost close to his ear. He +thought at first it must be one of those toys which are wound up and go +with clockwork; but no, it was a common penny toy, with the windmill at +the end of a whistle, and when the whistle blows the windmill goes. But +the wonder was that there was no one at the whistle end blowing, and +yet the sails were turning round and round--now faster, now slower, now +faster again. + +“What can it mean?” said Diamond, aloud. + +“It means me,” said the tiniest voice he had ever heard. + +“Who are you, please?” asked Diamond. + +“Well, really, I begin to be ashamed of you,” said the voice. “I wonder +how long it will be before you know me; or how often I might take you in +before you got sharp enough to suspect me. You are as bad as a baby that +doesn't know his mother in a new bonnet.” + +“Not quite so bad as that, dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “for I didn't +see you at all, and indeed I don't see you yet, although I recognise +your voice. Do grow a little, please.” + +“Not a hair's-breadth,” said the voice, and it was the smallest voice +that ever spoke. “What are you doing here?” + +“I am come to see my aunt. But, please, North Wind, why didn't you come +back for me in the church that night?” + +“I did. I carried you safe home. All the time you were dreaming about +the glass Apostles, you were lying in my arms.” + +“I'm so glad,” said Diamond. “I thought that must be it, only I wanted +to hear you say so. Did you sink the ship, then?” + +“Yes.” + +“And drown everybody?” + +“Not quite. One boat got away with six or seven men in it.” + +“How could the boat swim when the ship couldn't?” + +“Of course I had some trouble with it. I had to contrive a bit, and +manage the waves a little. When they're once thoroughly waked up, I have +a good deal of trouble with them sometimes. They're apt to get stupid +with tumbling over each other's heads. That's when they're fairly at it. +However, the boat got to a desert island before noon next day.” + +“And what good will come of that?” + +“I don't know. I obeyed orders. Good bye.” + +“Oh! stay, North Wind, do stay!” cried Diamond, dismayed to see the +windmill get slower and slower. + +“What is it, my dear child?” said North Wind, and the windmill began +turning again so swiftly that Diamond could scarcely see it. “What a big +voice you've got! and what a noise you do make with it? What is it you +want? I have little to do, but that little must be done.” + +“I want you to take me to the country at the back of the north wind.” + +“That's not so easy,” said North Wind, and was silent for so long that +Diamond thought she was gone indeed. But after he had quite given her +up, the voice began again. + +“I almost wish old Herodotus had held his tongue about it. Much he knew +of it!” + +“Why do you wish that, North Wind?” + +“Because then that clergyman would never have heard of it, and set you +wanting to go. But we shall see. We shall see. You must go home now, my +dear, for you don't seem very well, and I'll see what can be done for +you. Don't wait for me. I've got to break a few of old Goody's toys; +she's thinking too much of her new stock. Two or three will do. There! +go now.” + +Diamond rose, quite sorry, and without a word left the shop, and went +home. + +It soon appeared that his mother had been right about him, for that same +afternoon his head began to ache very much, and he had to go to bed. + +He awoke in the middle of the night. The lattice window of his room had +blown open, and the curtains of his little bed were swinging about in +the wind. + +“If that should be North Wind now!” thought Diamond. + +But the next moment he heard some one closing the window, and his aunt +came to his bedside. She put her hand on his face, and said-- + +“How's your head, dear?” + +“Better, auntie, I think.” + +“Would you like something to drink?” + +“Oh, yes! I should, please.” + +So his aunt gave him some lemonade, for she had been used to nursing +sick people, and Diamond felt very much refreshed, and laid his head +down again to go very fast asleep, as he thought. And so he did, but +only to come awake again, as a fresh burst of wind blew the lattice +open a second time. The same moment he found himself in a cloud of North +Wind's hair, with her beautiful face, set in it like a moon, bending +over him. + +“Quick, Diamond!” she said. “I have found such a chance!” + +“But I'm not well,” said Diamond. + +“I know that, but you will be better for a little fresh air. You shall +have plenty of that.” + +“You want me to go, then?” + +“Yes, I do. It won't hurt you.” + +“Very well,” said Diamond; and getting out of the bed-clothes, he jumped +into North Wind's arms. + +“We must make haste before your aunt comes,” said she, as she glided out +of the open lattice and left it swinging. + +The moment Diamond felt her arms fold around him he began to feel +better. It was a moonless night, and very dark, with glimpses of stars +when the clouds parted. + +“I used to dash the waves about here,” said North Wind, “where cows and +sheep are feeding now; but we shall soon get to them. There they are.” + +And Diamond, looking down, saw the white glimmer of breaking water far +below him. + +“You see, Diamond,” said North Wind, “it is very difficult for me to +get you to the back of the north wind, for that country lies in the very +north itself, and of course I can't blow northwards.” + +“Why not?” asked Diamond. + +“You little silly!” said North Wind. “Don't you see that if I were to +blow northwards I should be South Wind, and that is as much as to say +that one person could be two persons?” + +“But how can you ever get home at all, then?” + +“You are quite right--that is my home, though I never get farther than +the outer door. I sit on the doorstep, and hear the voices inside. I am +nobody there, Diamond.” + +“I'm very sorry.” + +“Why?” + +“That you should be nobody.” + +“Oh, I don't mind it. Dear little man! you will be very glad some day +to be nobody yourself. But you can't understand that now, and you had +better not try; for if you do, you will be certain to go fancying some +egregious nonsense, and making yourself miserable about it.” + +“Then I won't,” said Diamond. + +“There's a good boy. It will all come in good time.” + +“But you haven't told me how you get to the doorstep, you know.” + +“It is easy enough for me. I have only to consent to be nobody, and +there I am. I draw into myself and there I am on the doorstep. But you +can easily see, or you have less sense than I think, that to drag you, +you heavy thing, along with me, would take centuries, and I could not +give the time to it.” + +“Oh, I'm so sorry!” said Diamond. + +“What for now, pet?” + +“That I'm so heavy for you. I would be lighter if I could, but I don't +know how.” + +“You silly darling! Why, I could toss you a hundred miles from me if I +liked. It is only when I am going home that I shall find you heavy.” + +“Then you are going home with me?” + +“Of course. Did I not come to fetch you just for that?” + +“But all this time you must be going southwards.” + +“Yes. Of course I am.” + +“How can you be taking me northwards, then?” + +“A very sensible question. But you shall see. I will get rid of a few of +these clouds--only they do come up so fast! It's like trying to blow a +brook dry. There! What do you see now?” + +“I think I see a little boat, away there, down below.” + +“A little boat, indeed! Well! She's a yacht of two hundred tons; and the +captain of it is a friend of mine; for he is a man of good sense, and +can sail his craft well. I've helped him many a time when he little +thought it. I've heard him grumbling at me, when I was doing the very +best I could for him. Why, I've carried him eighty miles a day, again +and again, right north.” + +“He must have dodged for that,” said Diamond, who had been watching the +vessels, and had seen that they went other ways than the wind blew. + +“Of course he must. But don't you see, it was the best I could do? I +couldn't be South Wind. And besides it gave him a share in the business. +It is not good at all--mind that, Diamond--to do everything for those +you love, and not give them a share in the doing. It's not kind. It's +making too much of yourself, my child. If I had been South Wind, he +would only have smoked his pipe all day, and made himself stupid.” + +“But how could he be a man of sense and grumble at you when you were +doing your best for him?” + +“Oh! you must make allowances,” said North Wind, “or you will never do +justice to anybody.--You do understand, then, that a captain may sail +north----” + +“In spite of a north wind--yes,” supplemented Diamond. + +“Now, I do think you must be stupid, my dear” said North Wind. “Suppose +the north wind did not blow where would he be then?” + +“Why then the south wind would carry him.” + +“So you think that when the north wind stops the south wind blows. +Nonsense. If I didn't blow, the captain couldn't sail his eighty miles +a day. No doubt South Wind would carry him faster, but South Wind is +sitting on her doorstep then, and if I stopped there would be a dead +calm. So you are all wrong to say he can sail north in spite of me; he +sails north by my help, and my help alone. You see that, Diamond?” + +“Yes, I do, North Wind. I am stupid, but I don't want to be stupid.” + +“Good boy! I am going to blow you north in that little craft, one of the +finest that ever sailed the sea. Here we are, right over it. I shall +be blowing against you; you will be sailing against me; and all will be +just as we want it. The captain won't get on so fast as he would like, +but he will get on, and so shall we. I'm just going to put you on board. +Do you see in front of the tiller--that thing the man is working, now to +one side, now to the other--a round thing like the top of a drum?” + +“Yes,” said Diamond. + +“Below that is where they keep their spare sails, and some stores of +that sort. I am going to blow that cover off. The same moment I will +drop you on deck, and you must tumble in. Don't be afraid, it is of no +depth, and you will fall on sail-cloth. You will find it nice and warm +and dry-only dark; and you will know I am near you by every roll and +pitch of the vessel. Coil yourself up and go to sleep. The yacht shall +be my cradle and you shall be my baby.” + +“Thank you, dear North Wind. I am not a bit afraid,” said Diamond. + +In a moment they were on a level with the bulwarks, and North Wind sent +the hatch of the after-store rattling away over the deck to leeward. The +next, Diamond found himself in the dark, for he had tumbled through the +hole as North Wind had told him, and the cover was replaced over his +head. Away he went rolling to leeward, for the wind began all at once to +blow hard. He heard the call of the captain, and the loud trampling of +the men over his head, as they hauled at the main sheet to get the boom +on board that they might take in a reef in the mainsail. Diamond felt +about until he had found what seemed the most comfortable place, and +there he snuggled down and lay. + +Hours after hours, a great many of them, went by; and still Diamond +lay there. He never felt in the least tired or impatient, for a strange +pleasure filled his heart. The straining of the masts, the creaking of +the boom, the singing of the ropes, the banging of the blocks as they +put the vessel about, all fell in with the roaring of the wind above, +the surge of the waves past her sides, and the thud with which every now +and then one would strike her; while through it all Diamond could hear +the gurgling, rippling, talking flow of the water against her planks, +as she slipped through it, lying now on this side, now on that--like a +subdued air running through the grand music his North Wind was making +about him to keep him from tiring as they sped on towards the country at +the back of her doorstep. + +How long this lasted Diamond had no idea. He seemed to fall asleep +sometimes, only through the sleep he heard the sounds going on. At +length the weather seemed to get worse. The confusion and trampling of +feet grew more frequent over his head; the vessel lay over more and +more on her side, and went roaring through the waves, which banged and +thumped at her as if in anger. All at once arose a terrible uproar. The +hatch was blown off; a cold fierce wind swept in upon him; and a long +arm came with it which laid hold of him and lifted him out. The same +moment he saw the little vessel far below him righting herself. She had +taken in all her sails and lay now tossing on the waves like a sea-bird +with folded wings. A short distance to the south lay a much larger +vessel, with two or three sails set, and towards it North Wind was +carrying Diamond. It was a German ship, on its way to the North Pole. + +“That vessel down there will give us a lift now,” said North Wind; “and +after that I must do the best I can.” + +She managed to hide him amongst the flags of the big ship, which were +all snugly stowed away, and on and on they sped towards the north. At +length one night she whispered in his ear, “Come on deck, Diamond;” and +he got up at once and crept on deck. Everything looked very strange. +Here and there on all sides were huge masses of floating ice, looking +like cathedrals, and castles, and crags, while away beyond was a blue +sea. + +“Is the sun rising or setting?” asked Diamond. + +“Neither or both, which you please. I can hardly tell which myself. If +he is setting now, he will be rising the next moment.” + +“What a strange light it is!” said Diamond. “I have heard that the sun +doesn't go to bed all the summer in these parts. Miss Coleman told me +that. I suppose he feels very sleepy, and that is why the light he sends +out looks so like a dream.” + +“That will account for it well enough for all practical purposes,” said +North Wind. + +Some of the icebergs were drifting northwards; one was passing very near +the ship. North Wind seized Diamond, and with a single bound lighted on +one of them--a huge thing, with sharp pinnacles and great clefts. The +same instant a wind began to blow from the south. North Wind hurried +Diamond down the north side of the iceberg, stepping by its jags and +splintering; for this berg had never got far enough south to be melted +and smoothed by the summer sun. She brought him to a cave near the +water, where she entered, and, letting Diamond go, sat down as if weary +on a ledge of ice. + +Diamond seated himself on the other side, and for a while was enraptured +with the colour of the air inside the cave. It was a deep, dazzling, +lovely blue, deeper than the deepest blue of the sky. The blue seemed to +be in constant motion, like the blackness when you press your eyeballs +with your fingers, boiling and sparkling. But when he looked across to +North Wind he was frightened; her face was worn and livid. + +“What is the matter with you, dear North Wind?” he said. + +“Nothing much. I feel very faint. But you mustn't mind it, for I can +bear it quite well. South Wind always blows me faint. If it were not for +the cool of the thick ice between me and her, I should faint altogether. +Indeed, as it is, I fear I must vanish.” + +Diamond stared at her in terror, for he saw that her form and face were +growing, not small, but transparent, like something dissolving, not in +water, but in light. He could see the side of the blue cave through her +very heart. And she melted away till all that was left was a pale face, +like the moon in the morning, with two great lucid eyes in it. + +“I am going, Diamond,” she said. + +“Does it hurt you?” asked Diamond. + +“It's very uncomfortable,” she answered; “but I don't mind it, for I +shall come all right again before long. I thought I should be able to go +with you all the way, but I cannot. You must not be frightened though. +Just go straight on, and you will come all right. You'll find me on the +doorstep.” + +As she spoke, her face too faded quite away, only Diamond thought he +could still see her eyes shining through the blue. When he went closer, +however, he found that what he thought her eyes were only two hollows in +the ice. North Wind was quite gone; and Diamond would have cried, if he +had not trusted her so thoroughly. So he sat still in the blue air of +the cavern listening to the wash and ripple of the water all about the +base of the iceberg, as it sped on and on into the open sea northwards. +It was an excellent craft to go with the current, for there was twice as +much of it below water as above. But a light south wind was blowing too, +and so it went fast. + +After a little while Diamond went out and sat on the edge of his +floating island, and looked down into the ocean beneath him. The white +sides of the berg reflected so much light below the water, that he could +see far down into the green abyss. Sometimes he fancied he saw the eyes +of North Wind looking up at him from below, but the fancy never lasted +beyond the moment of its birth. And the time passed he did not know how, +for he felt as if he were in a dream. When he got tired of the green +water, he went into the blue cave; and when he got tired of the blue +cave he went out and gazed all about him on the blue sea, ever sparkling +in the sun, which kept wheeling about the sky, never going below the +horizon. But he chiefly gazed northwards, to see whether any land were +appearing. All this time he never wanted to eat. He broke off little +bits of the berg now and then and sucked them, and he thought them very +nice. + +At length, one time he came out of his cave, he spied far off on the +horizon, a shining peak that rose into the sky like the top of some +tremendous iceberg; and his vessel was bearing him straight towards +it. As it went on the peak rose and rose higher and higher above the +horizon; and other peaks rose after it, with sharp edges and jagged +ridges connecting them. Diamond thought this must be the place he was +going to; and he was right; for the mountains rose and rose, till he saw +the line of the coast at their feet and at length the iceberg drove into +a little bay, all around which were lofty precipices with snow on their +tops, and streaks of ice down their sides. The berg floated slowly up to +a projecting rock. Diamond stepped on shore, and without looking behind +him began to follow a natural path which led windingly towards the top +of the precipice. + +When he reached it, he found himself on a broad table of ice, +along which he could walk without much difficulty. Before him, at a +considerable distance, rose a lofty ridge of ice, which shot up into +fantastic pinnacles and towers and battlements. The air was very cold, +and seemed somehow dead, for there was not the slightest breath of wind. + +In the centre of the ridge before him appeared a gap like the opening +of a valley. But as he walked towards it, gazing, and wondering whether +that could be the way he had to take, he saw that what had appeared a +gap was the form of a woman seated against the ice front of the ridge, +leaning forwards with her hands in her lap, and her hair hanging down to +the ground. + +“It is North Wind on her doorstep,” said Diamond joyfully, and hurried +on. + +He soon came up to the place, and there the form sat, like one of +the great figures at the door of an Egyptian temple, motionless, with +drooping arms and head. Then Diamond grew frightened, because she did +not move nor speak. He was sure it was North Wind, but he thought she +must be dead at last. Her face was white as the snow, her eyes were +blue as the air in the ice-cave, and her hair hung down straight, like +icicles. She had on a greenish robe, like the colour in the hollows of a +glacier seen from far off. + +He stood up before her, and gazed fearfully into her face for a few +minutes before he ventured to speak. At length, with a great effort and +a trembling voice, he faltered out-- + +“North Wind!” + +“Well, child?” said the form, without lifting its head. + +“Are you ill, dear North Wind?” + +“No. I am waiting.” + +“What for?” + +“Till I'm wanted.” + +“You don't care for me any more,” said Diamond, almost crying now. + +“Yes I do. Only I can't show it. All my love is down at the bottom of my +heart. But I feel it bubbling there.” + +“What do you want me to do next, dear North Wind?” said Diamond, wishing +to show his love by being obedient. + +“What do you want to do yourself?” + +“I want to go into the country at your back.” + +“Then you must go through me.” + +“I don't know what you mean.” + +“I mean just what I say. You must walk on as if I were an open door, and +go right through me.” + +“But that will hurt you.” + +“Not in the least. It will hurt you, though.” + +“I don't mind that, if you tell me to do it.” + +“Do it,” said North Wind. + +Diamond walked towards her instantly. When he reached her knees, he put +out his hand to lay it on her, but nothing was there save an intense +cold. He walked on. Then all grew white about him; and the cold stung +him like fire. He walked on still, groping through the whiteness. It +thickened about him. At last, it got into his heart, and he lost all +sense. I would say that he fainted--only whereas in common faints all +grows black about you, he felt swallowed up in whiteness. It was when he +reached North Wind's heart that he fainted and fell. But as he fell, he +rolled over the threshold, and it was thus that Diamond got to the back +of the north wind. + + + + +CHAPTER X. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +I HAVE now come to the most difficult part of my story. And why? Because +I do not know enough about it. And why should I not know as much about +this part as about any other part? For of course I could know nothing +about the story except Diamond had told it; and why should not Diamond +tell about the country at the back of the north wind, as well as about +his adventures in getting there? Because, when he came back, he had +forgotten a great deal, and what he did remember was very hard to tell. +Things there are so different from things here! The people there do not +speak the same language for one thing. Indeed, Diamond insisted that +there they do not speak at all. I do not think he was right, but it may +well have appeared so to Diamond. The fact is, we have different reports +of the place from the most trustworthy people. Therefore we are bound +to believe that it appears somewhat different to different people. All, +however, agree in a general way about it. + +I will tell you something of what two very different people have +reported, both of whom knew more about it, I believe, than Herodotus. +One of them speaks from his own experience, for he visited the country; +the other from the testimony of a young peasant girl who came back from +it for a month's visit to her friends. The former was a great Italian +of noble family, who died more than five hundred years ago; the latter a +Scotch shepherd who died not forty years ago. + +The Italian, then, informs us that he had to enter that country through +a fire so hot that he would have thrown himself into boiling glass to +cool himself. This was not Diamond's experience, but then Durante--that +was the name of the Italian, and it means Lasting, for his books will +last as long as there are enough men in the world worthy of having +them--Durante was an elderly man, and Diamond was a little boy, and so +their experience must be a little different. The peasant girl, on the +other hand, fell fast asleep in a wood, and woke in the same country. + +In describing it, Durante says that the ground everywhere smelt sweetly, +and that a gentle, even-tempered wind, which never blew faster or +slower, breathed in his face as he went, making all the leaves point one +way, not so as to disturb the birds in the tops of the trees, but, on +the contrary, sounding a bass to their song. He describes also a little +river which was so full that its little waves, as it hurried along, bent +the grass, full of red and yellow flowers, through which it flowed. He +says that the purest stream in the world beside this one would look as +if it were mixed with something that did not belong to it, even although +it was flowing ever in the brown shadow of the trees, and neither sun +nor moon could shine upon it. He seems to imply that it is always the +month of May in that country. It would be out of place to describe here +the wonderful sights he saw, for the music of them is in another key +from that of this story, and I shall therefore only add from the account +of this traveller, that the people there are so free and so just and so +healthy, that every one of them has a crown like a king and a mitre like +a priest. + +The peasant girl--Kilmeny was her name--could not report such grand +things as Durante, for, as the shepherd says, telling her story as I +tell Diamond's-- + + “Kilmeny had been she knew not where, + And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare; + Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, + Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew. + But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, + And the airs of heaven played round her tongue, + When she spoke of the lovely forms she had seen, + And a land where sin had never been; + A land of love and a land of light, + Withouten sun, or moon, or night; + Where the river swayed a living stream, + And the light a pure and cloudless beam: + The land of vision it would seem, + And still an everlasting dream.” + + +The last two lines are the shepherd's own remark, and a matter of +opinion. But it is clear, I think, that Kilmeny must have described +the same country as Durante saw, though, not having his experience, she +could neither understand nor describe it so well. + +Now I must give you such fragments of recollection as Diamond was able +to bring back with him. + +When he came to himself after he fell, he found himself at the back of +the north wind. North Wind herself was nowhere to be seen. Neither +was there a vestige of snow or of ice within sight. The sun too had +vanished; but that was no matter, for there was plenty of a certain +still rayless light. Where it came from he never found out; but he +thought it belonged to the country itself. Sometimes he thought it came +out of the flowers, which were very bright, but had no strong colour. +He said the river--for all agree that there is a river there--flowed +not only through, but over grass: its channel, instead of being rock, +stones, pebbles, sand, or anything else, was of pure meadow grass, not +over long. He insisted that if it did not sing tunes in people's ears, +it sung tunes in their heads, in proof of which I may mention that, in +the troubles which followed, Diamond was often heard singing; and when +asked what he was singing, would answer, “One of the tunes the river +at the back of the north wind sung.” And I may as well say at once that +Diamond never told these things to any one but--no, I had better not say +who it was; but whoever it was told me, and I thought it would be well +to write them for my child-readers. + +He could not say he was very happy there, for he had neither his father +nor mother with him, but he felt so still and quiet and patient and +contented, that, as far as the mere feeling went, it was something +better than mere happiness. Nothing went wrong at the back of the north +wind. Neither was anything quite right, he thought. Only everything was +going to be right some day. His account disagreed with that of Durante, +and agreed with that of Kilmeny, in this, that he protested there was no +wind there at all. I fancy he missed it. At all events we could not do +without wind. It all depends on how big our lungs are whether the wind +is too strong for us or not. + +When the person he told about it asked him whether he saw anybody he +knew there, he answered, “Only a little girl belonging to the gardener, +who thought he had lost her, but was quite mistaken, for there she was +safe enough, and was to come back some day, as I came back, if they +would only wait.” + +“Did you talk to her, Diamond?” + +“No. Nobody talks there. They only look at each other, and understand +everything.” + +“Is it cold there?” + +“No.” + +“Is it hot?” + +“No.” + +“What is it then?” + +“You never think about such things there.” + +“What a queer place it must be!” + +“It's a very good place.” + +“Do you want to go back again?” + +“No; I don't think I have left it; I feel it here, somewhere.” + +“Did the people there look pleased?” + +“Yes--quite pleased, only a little sad.” + +“Then they didn't look glad?” + +“They looked as if they were waiting to be gladder some day.” + +This was how Diamond used to answer questions about that country. And +now I will take up the story again, and tell you how he got back to this +country. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. HOW DIAMOND GOT HOME AGAIN + + +WHEN one at the back of the north wind wanted to know how things were +going with any one he loved, he had to go to a certain tree, climb the +stem, and sit down in the branches. In a few minutes, if he kept very +still, he would see something at least of what was going on with the +people he loved. + +One day when Diamond was sitting in this tree, he began to long very +much to get home again, and no wonder, for he saw his mother crying. +Durante says that the people there may always follow their wishes, +because they never wish but what is good. Diamond's wish was to get +home, and he would fain follow his wish. + +But how was he to set about it? If he could only see North Wind! But the +moment he had got to her back, she was gone altogether from his sight. +He had never seen her back. She might be sitting on her doorstep still, +looking southwards, and waiting, white and thin and blue-eyed, until she +was wanted. Or she might have again become a mighty creature, with +power to do that which was demanded of her, and gone far away upon many +missions. She must be somewhere, however. He could not go home without +her, and therefore he must find her. She could never have intended to +leave him always away from his mother. If there had been any danger of +that, she would have told him, and given him his choice about going. For +North Wind was right honest. How to find North Wind, therefore, occupied +all his thoughts. + +In his anxiety about his mother, he used to climb the tree every day, +and sit in its branches. However many of the dwellers there did so, they +never incommoded one another; for the moment one got into the tree, he +became invisible to every one else; and it was such a wide-spreading +tree that there was room for every one of the people of the country +in it, without the least interference with each other. Sometimes, on +getting down, two of them would meet at the root, and then they would +smile to each other more sweetly than at any other time, as much as to +say, “Ah, you've been up there too!” + +One day he was sitting on one of the outer branches of the tree, looking +southwards after his home. Far away was a blue shining sea, dotted with +gleaming and sparkling specks of white. Those were the icebergs. Nearer +he saw a great range of snow-capped mountains, and down below him the +lovely meadow-grass of the country, with the stream flowing and flowing +through it, away towards the sea. As he looked he began to wonder, for +the whole country lay beneath him like a map, and that which was near +him looked just as small as that which he knew to be miles away. The +ridge of ice which encircled it appeared but a few yards off, and no +larger than the row of pebbles with which a child will mark out the +boundaries of the kingdom he has appropriated on the sea-shore. He +thought he could distinguish the vapoury form of North Wind, seated as +he had left her, on the other side. Hastily he descended the tree, and +to his amazement found that the map or model of the country still lay at +his feet. He stood in it. With one stride he had crossed the river; with +another he had reached the ridge of ice; with the third he stepped over +its peaks, and sank wearily down at North Wind's knees. For there she +sat on her doorstep. The peaks of the great ridge of ice were as lofty +as ever behind her, and the country at her back had vanished from +Diamond's view. + +North Wind was as still as Diamond had left her. Her pale face was white +as the snow, and her motionless eyes were as blue as the caverns in the +ice. But the instant Diamond touched her, her face began to change like +that of one waking from sleep. Light began to glimmer from the blue of +her eyes. + +A moment more, and she laid her hand on Diamond's head, and began +playing with his hair. Diamond took hold of her hand, and laid his face +to it. She gave a little start. + +“How very alive you are, child!” she murmured. “Come nearer to me.” + +By the help of the stones all around he clambered up beside her, and +laid himself against her bosom. She gave a great sigh, slowly lifted her +arms, and slowly folded them about him, until she clasped him close. Yet +a moment, and she roused herself, and came quite awake; and the cold of +her bosom, which had pierced Diamond's bones, vanished. + +“Have you been sitting here ever since I went through you, dear North +Wind?” asked Diamond, stroking her hand. + +“Yes,” she answered, looking at him with her old kindness. + +“Ain't you very tired?” + +“No; I've often had to sit longer. Do you know how long you have been?” + +“Oh! years and years,” answered Diamond. + +“You have just been seven days,” returned North Wind. + +“I thought I had been a hundred years!” exclaimed Diamond. + +“Yes, I daresay,” replied North Wind. “You've been away from here seven +days; but how long you may have been in there is quite another thing. +Behind my back and before my face things are so different! They don't go +at all by the same rule.” + +“I'm very glad,” said Diamond, after thinking a while. + +“Why?” asked North Wind. + +“Because I've been such a long time there, and such a little while away +from mother. Why, she won't be expecting me home from Sandwich yet!” + +“No. But we mustn't talk any longer. I've got my orders now, and we must +be off in a few minutes.” + +Next moment Diamond found himself sitting alone on the rock. North Wind +had vanished. A creature like a great humble-bee or cockchafer flew past +his face; but it could be neither, for there were no insects amongst the +ice. It passed him again and again, flying in circles around him, and he +concluded that it must be North Wind herself, no bigger than Tom Thumb +when his mother put him in the nutshell lined with flannel. But she was +no longer vapoury and thin. She was solid, although tiny. A moment more, +and she perched on his shoulder. + +“Come along, Diamond,” she said in his ear, in the smallest and highest +of treble voices; “it is time we were setting out for Sandwich.” + +Diamond could just see her, by turning his head towards his shoulder as +far as he could, but only with one eye, for his nose came between her +and the other. + +“Won't you take me in your arms and carry me?” he said in a whisper, for +he knew she did not like a loud voice when she was small. + +“Ah! you ungrateful boy,” returned North Wind, smiling “how dare you +make game of me? Yes, I will carry you, but you shall walk a bit for +your impertinence first. Come along.” + +She jumped from his shoulder, but when Diamond looked for her upon the +ground, he could see nothing but a little spider with long legs that +made its way over the ice towards the south. It ran very fast indeed for +a spider, but Diamond ran a long way before it, and then waited for +it. It was up with him sooner than he had expected, however, and it +had grown a good deal. And the spider grew and grew and went faster and +faster, till all at once Diamond discovered that it was not a spider, +but a weasel; and away glided the weasel, and away went Diamond after +it, and it took all the run there was in him to keep up with the weasel. +And the weasel grew, and grew, and grew, till all at once Diamond saw +that the weasel was not a weasel but a cat. And away went the cat, and +Diamond after it. And when he had run half a mile, he found the cat +waiting for him, sitting up and washing her face not to lose time. And +away went the cat again, and Diamond after it. But the next time he came +up with the cat, the cat was not a cat, but a hunting-leopard. And the +hunting-leopard grew to a jaguar, all covered with spots like eyes. +And the jaguar grew to a Bengal tiger. And at none of them was Diamond +afraid, for he had been at North Wind's back, and he could be afraid of +her no longer whatever she did or grew. And the tiger flew over the snow +in a straight line for the south, growing less and less to Diamond's +eyes till it was only a black speck upon the whiteness; and then it +vanished altogether. And now Diamond felt that he would rather not run +any farther, and that the ice had got very rough. Besides, he was near +the precipices that bounded the sea, so he slackened his pace to a walk, +saying aloud to himself: + +“When North Wind has punished me enough for making game of her, she will +come back to me; I know she will, for I can't go much farther without +her.” + +“You dear boy! It was only in fun. Here I am!” said North Wind's voice +behind him. + +Diamond turned, and saw her as he liked best to see her, standing beside +him, a tall lady. + +“Where's the tiger?” he asked, for he knew all the creatures from a +picture book that Miss Coleman had given him. “But, of course,” he +added, “you were the tiger. I was puzzled and forgot. I saw it such a +long way off before me, and there you were behind me. It's so odd, you +know.” + +“It must look very odd to you, Diamond: I see that. But it is no more +odd to me than to break an old pine in two.” + +“Well, that's odd enough,” remarked Diamond. + +“So it is! I forgot. Well, none of these things are odder to me than it +is to you to eat bread and butter.” + +“Well, that's odd too, when I think of it,” persisted Diamond. “I should +just like a slice of bread and butter! I'm afraid to say how long it +is--how long it seems to me, that is--since I had anything to eat.” + +“Come then,” said North Wind, stooping and holding out her arms. “You +shall have some bread and butter very soon. I am glad to find you want +some.” + +Diamond held up his arms to meet hers, and was safe upon her bosom. +North Wind bounded into the air. Her tresses began to lift and rise and +spread and stream and flow and flutter; and with a roar from her hair +and an answering roar from one of the great glaciers beside them, whose +slow torrent tumbled two or three icebergs at once into the waves at +their feet, North Wind and Diamond went flying southwards. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. WHO MET DIAMOND AT SANDWICH + + +As THEY flew, so fast they went that the sea slid away from under them +like a great web of shot silk, blue shot with grey, and green shot with +purple. They went so fast that the stars themselves appeared to sail +away past them overhead, “like golden boats,” on a blue sea turned +upside down. And they went so fast that Diamond himself went the other +way as fast--I mean he went fast asleep in North Wind's arms. + +When he woke, a face was bending over him; but it was not North Wind's; +it was his mother's. He put out his arms to her, and she clasped him to +her bosom and burst out crying. Diamond kissed her again and again to +make her stop. Perhaps kissing is the best thing for crying, but it will +not always stop it. + +“What is the matter, mother?” he said. + +“Oh, Diamond, my darling! you have been so ill!” she sobbed. + +“No, mother dear. I've only been at the back of the north wind,” + returned Diamond. + +“I thought you were dead,” said his mother. + +But that moment the doctor came in. + +“Oh! there!” said the doctor with gentle cheerfulness; “we're better +to-day, I see.” + +Then he drew the mother aside, and told her not to talk to Diamond, or +to mind what he might say; for he must be kept as quiet as possible. And +indeed Diamond was not much inclined to talk, for he felt very strange +and weak, which was little wonder, seeing that all the time he had been +away he had only sucked a few lumps of ice, and there could not be much +nourishment in them. + +Now while he is lying there, getting strong again with chicken broth and +other nice things, I will tell my readers what had been taking place at +his home, for they ought to be told it. + +They may have forgotten that Miss Coleman was in a very poor state of +health. Now there were three reasons for this. In the first place, +her lungs were not strong. In the second place, there was a gentleman +somewhere who had not behaved very well to her. In the third place, she +had not anything particular to do. These three nots together are enough +to make a lady very ill indeed. Of course she could not help the first +cause; but if the other two causes had not existed, that would have been +of little consequence; she would only have to be a little careful. The +second she could not help quite; but if she had had anything to do, +and had done it well, it would have been very difficult for any man to +behave badly to her. And for this third cause of her illness, if she had +had anything to do that was worth doing, she might have borne his bad +behaviour so that even that would not have made her ill. It is not +always easy, I confess, to find something to do that is worth doing, but +the most difficult things are constantly being done, and she might have +found something if she had tried. Her fault lay in this, that she had +not tried. But, to be sure, her father and mother were to blame that +they had never set her going. Only then again, nobody had told her +father and mother that they ought to set her going in that direction. So +as none of them would find it out of themselves, North Wind had to teach +them. + +We know that North Wind was very busy that night on which she left +Diamond in the cathedral. She had in a sense been blowing through +and through the Colemans' house the whole of the night. First, Miss +Coleman's maid had left a chink of her mistress's window open, thinking +she had shut it, and North Wind had wound a few of her hairs round the +lady's throat. She was considerably worse the next morning. Again, the +ship which North Wind had sunk that very night belonged to Mr. Coleman. +Nor will my readers understand what a heavy loss this was to him until +I have informed them that he had been getting poorer and poorer for some +time. He was not so successful in his speculations as he had been, +for he speculated a great deal more than was right, and it was time he +should be pulled up. It is a hard thing for a rich man to grow poor; +but it is an awful thing for him to grow dishonest, and some kinds of +speculation lead a man deep into dishonesty before he thinks what he is +about. Poverty will not make a man worthless--he may be worth a great +deal more when he is poor than he was when he was rich; but dishonesty +goes very far indeed to make a man of no value--a thing to be thrown +out in the dust-hole of the creation, like a bit of a broken basin, or a +dirty rag. So North Wind had to look after Mr. Coleman, and try to make +an honest man of him. So she sank the ship which was his last venture, +and he was what himself and his wife and the world called ruined. + +Nor was this all yet. For on board that vessel Miss Coleman's lover was +a passenger; and when the news came that the vessel had gone down, and +that all on board had perished, we may be sure she did not think +the loss of their fine house and garden and furniture the greatest +misfortune in the world. + +Of course, the trouble did not end with Mr. Coleman and his family. +Nobody can suffer alone. When the cause of suffering is most deeply +hidden in the heart, and nobody knows anything about it but the man +himself, he must be a great and a good man indeed, such as few of us +have known, if the pain inside him does not make him behave so as to +cause all about him to be more or less uncomfortable. But when a man +brings money-troubles on himself by making haste to be rich, then +most of the people he has to do with must suffer in the same way with +himself. The elm-tree which North Wind blew down that very night, as +if small and great trials were to be gathered in one heap, crushed Miss +Coleman's pretty summer-house: just so the fall of Mr. Coleman crushed +the little family that lived over his coach-house and stable. Before +Diamond was well enough to be taken home, there was no home for him +to go to. Mr. Coleman--or his creditors, for I do not know the +particulars--had sold house, carriage, horses, furniture, and +everything. He and his wife and daughter and Mrs. Crump had gone to live +in a small house in Hoxton, where he would be unknown, and whence he +could walk to his place of business in the City. For he was not an old +man, and hoped yet to retrieve his fortunes. Let us hope that he lived +to retrieve his honesty, the tail of which had slipped through his +fingers to the very last joint, if not beyond it. + +Of course, Diamond's father had nothing to do for a time, but it was +not so hard for him to have nothing to do as it was for Miss Coleman. He +wrote to his wife that, if her sister would keep her there till he got +a place, it would be better for them, and he would be greatly obliged +to her. Meantime, the gentleman who had bought the house had allowed his +furniture to remain where it was for a little while. + +Diamond's aunt was quite willing to keep them as long as she could. And +indeed Diamond was not yet well enough to be moved with safety. + +When he had recovered so far as to be able to go out, one day his mother +got her sister's husband, who had a little pony-cart, to carry them +down to the sea-shore, and leave them there for a few hours. He had +some business to do further on at Ramsgate, and would pick them up as he +returned. A whiff of the sea-air would do them both good, she said, and +she thought besides she could best tell Diamond what had happened if she +had him quite to herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THE SEASIDE + + +DIAMOND and his mother sat down upon the edge of the rough grass that +bordered the sand. The sun was just far enough past its highest not to +shine in their eyes when they looked eastward. A sweet little wind blew +on their left side, and comforted the mother without letting her know +what it was that comforted her. Away before them stretched the sparkling +waters of the ocean, every wave of which flashed out its own delight +back in the face of the great sun, which looked down from the stillness +of its blue house with glorious silent face upon its flashing children. +On each hand the shore rounded outwards, forming a little bay. There +were no white cliffs here, as further north and south, and the place was +rather dreary, but the sky got at them so much the better. Not a house, +not a creature was within sight. Dry sand was about their feet, and +under them thin wiry grass, that just managed to grow out of the +poverty-stricken shore. + +“Oh dear!” said Diamond's mother, with a deep sigh, “it's a sad world!” + +“Is it?” said Diamond. “I didn't know.” + +“How should you know, child? You've been too well taken care of, I +trust.” + +“Oh yes, I have,” returned Diamond. “I'm sorry! I thought you were taken +care of too. I thought my father took care of you. I will ask him about +it. I think he must have forgotten.” + +“Dear boy!” said his mother, “your father's the best man in the world.” + +“So I thought!” returned Diamond with triumph. “I was sure of it!--Well, +doesn't he take very good care of you?” + +“Yes, yes, he does,” answered his mother, bursting into tears. “But +who's to take care of him? And how is he to take care of us if he's got +nothing to eat himself?” + +“Oh dear!” said Diamond with a gasp; “hasn't he got anything to eat? Oh! +I must go home to him.” + +“No, no, child. He's not come to that yet. But what's to become of us, I +don't know.” + +“Are you very hungry, mother? There's the basket. I thought you put +something to eat in it.” + +“O you darling stupid! I didn't say I was hungry,” returned his mother, +smiling through her tears. + +“Then I don't understand you at all,” said Diamond. “Do tell me what's +the matter.” + +“There are people in the world who have nothing to eat, Diamond.” + +“Then I suppose they don't stop in it any longer. They--they--what you +call--die--don't they?” + +“Yes, they do. How would you like that?” + +“I don't know. I never tried. But I suppose they go where they get +something to eat.” + +“Like enough they don't want it,” said his mother, petulantly. + +“That's all right then,” said Diamond, thinking I daresay more than he +chose to put in words. + +“Is it though? Poor boy! how little you know about things! Mr. Coleman's +lost all his money, and your father has nothing to do, and we shall have +nothing to eat by and by.” + +“Are you sure, mother?” + +“Sure of what?” + +“Sure that we shall have nothing to eat.” + +“No, thank Heaven! I'm not sure of it. I hope not.” + +“Then I can't understand it, mother. There's a piece of gingerbread in +the basket, I know.” + +“O you little bird! You have no more sense than a sparrow that picks +what it wants, and never thinks of the winter and the frost and, the +snow.” + +“Ah--yes--I see. But the birds get through the winter, don't they?” + +“Some of them fall dead on the ground.” + +“They must die some time. They wouldn't like to be birds always. Would +you, mother?” + +“What a child it is!” thought his mother, but she said nothing. + +“Oh! now I remember,” Diamond went on. “Father told me that day I went +to Epping Forest with him, that the rose-bushes, and the may-bushes, and +the holly-bushes were the bird's barns, for there were the hips, and the +haws, and the holly-berries, all ready for the winter.” + +“Yes; that's all very true. So you see the birds are provided for. But +there are no such barns for you and me, Diamond.” + +“Ain't there?” + +“No. We've got to work for our bread.” + +“Then let's go and work,” said Diamond, getting up. + +“It's no use. We've not got anything to do.” + +“Then let's wait.” + +“Then we shall starve.” + +“No. There's the basket. Do you know, mother, I think I shall call that +basket the barn.” + +“It's not a very big one. And when it's empty--where are we then?” + +“At auntie's cupboard,” returned Diamond promptly. + +“But we can't eat auntie's things all up and leave her to starve.” + +“No, no. We'll go back to father before that. He'll have found a +cupboard somewhere by that time.” + +“How do you know that?” + +“I don't know it. But I haven't got even a cupboard, and I've always had +plenty to eat. I've heard you say I had too much, sometimes.” + +“But I tell you that's because I've had a cupboard for you, child.” + +“And when yours was empty, auntie opened hers.” + +“But that can't go on.” + +“How do you know? I think there must be a big cupboard somewhere, out of +which the little cupboards are filled, you know, mother.” + +“Well, I wish I could find the door of that cupboard,” said his mother. +But the same moment she stopped, and was silent for a good while. I +cannot tell whether Diamond knew what she was thinking, but I think I +know. She had heard something at church the day before, which came back +upon her--something like this, that she hadn't to eat for tomorrow as +well as for to-day; and that what was not wanted couldn't be missed. +So, instead of saying anything more, she stretched out her hand for the +basket, and she and Diamond had their dinner. + +And Diamond did enjoy it. For the drive and the fresh air had made him +quite hungry; and he did not, like his mother, trouble himself about +what they should dine off that day week. The fact was he had lived so +long without any food at all at the back of the north wind, that he knew +quite well that food was not essential to existence; that in fact, under +certain circumstances, people could live without it well enough. + +His mother did not speak much during their dinner. After it was over she +helped him to walk about a little, but he was not able for much and soon +got tired. He did not get fretful, though. He was too glad of having the +sun and the wind again, to fret because he could not run about. He lay +down on the dry sand, and his mother covered him with a shawl. She then +sat by his side, and took a bit of work from her pocket. But Diamond +felt rather sleepy, and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the +sand. A few yards off he saw something fluttering. + +“What is that, mother?” he said. + +“Only a bit of paper,” she answered. + +“It flutters more than a bit of paper would, I think,” said Diamond. + +“I'll go and see if you like,” said his mother. “My eyes are none of the +best.” + +So she rose and went and found that they were both right, for it was a +little book, partly buried in the sand. But several of its leaves were +clear of the sand, and these the wind kept blowing about in a very +flutterful manner. She took it up and brought it to Diamond. + +“What is it, mother?” he asked. + +“Some nursery rhymes, I think,” she answered. + +“I'm too sleepy,” said Diamond. “Do read some of them to me.” + +“Yes, I will,” she said, and began one.--“But this is such nonsense!” + she said again. “I will try to find a better one.” + +She turned the leaves searching, but three times, with sudden puffs, the +wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses. + +“Do read that one,” said Diamond, who seemed to be of the same mind as +the wind. “It sounded very nice. I am sure it is a good one.” + +So his mother thought it might amuse him, though she couldn't find any +sense in it. She never thought he might understand it, although she +could not. + +Now I do not exactly know what the mother read, but this is what Diamond +heard, or thought afterwards that he had heard. He was, however, as I +have said, very sleepy. And when he thought he understood the verses he +may have been only dreaming better ones. This is how they went-- + +I know a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the +shallows dumb in the hollows sleeping so deep and all the swallows that +dip their feathers in the hollows or in the shallows are the merriest +swallows of all for the nests they bake with the clay they cake with +the water they shake from their wings that rake the water out of the +shallows or the hollows will hold together in any weather and so the +swallows are the merriest fellows and have the merriest children and +are built so narrow like the head of an arrow to cut the air and go just +where the nicest water is flowing and the nicest dust is blowing for +each so narrow like head of an arrow is only a barrow to carry the +mud he makes from the nicest water flowing and the nicest dust that is +blowing to build his nest for her he loves best with the nicest cakes +which the sunshine bakes all for their merry children all so callow with +beaks that follow gaping and hollow wider and wider after their father +or after their mother the food-provider who brings them a spider or a +worm the poor hider down in the earth so there's no dearth for their +beaks as yellow as the buttercups growing beside the flowing of the +singing river always and ever growing and blowing for fast as the sheep +awake or asleep crop them and crop them they cannot stop them but up +they creep and on they go blowing and so with the daisies the little +white praises they grow and they blow and they spread out their crown +and they praise the sun and when he goes down their praising is done and +they fold up their crown and they sleep every one till over the plain +he's shining amain and they're at it again praising and praising such +low songs raising that no one hears them but the sun who rears them and +the sheep that bite them are the quietest sheep awake or asleep with the +merriest bleat and the little lambs are the merriest lambs they forget +to eat for the frolic in their feet and the lambs and their dams are +the whitest sheep with the woolliest wool and the longest wool and the +trailingest tails and they shine like snow in the grasses that grow by +the singing river that sings for ever and the sheep and the lambs are +merry for ever because the river sings and they drink it and the lambs +and their dams are quiet and white because of their diet for what they +bite is buttercups yellow and daisies white and grass as green as the +river can make it with wind as mellow to kiss it and shake it as never +was seen but here in the hollows beside the river where all the swallows +are merriest of fellows for the nests they make with the clay they cake +in the sunshine bake till they are like bone as dry in the wind as a +marble stone so firm they bind the grass in the clay that dries in the +wind the sweetest wind that blows by the river flowing for ever but +never you find whence comes the wind that blows on the hollows and over +the shallows where dip the swallows alive it blows the life as it goes +awake or asleep into the river that sings as it flows and the life it +blows into the sheep awake or asleep with the woolliest wool and the +trailingest tails and it never fails gentle and cool to wave the wool +and to toss the grass as the lambs and the sheep over it pass and tug +and bite with their teeth so white and then with the sweep of their +trailing tails smooth it again and it grows amain and amain it grows and +the wind as it blows tosses the swallows over the hollows and down on +the shallows till every feather doth shake and quiver and all their +feathers go all together blowing the life and the joy so rife into the +swallows that skim the shallows and have the yellowest children for the +wind that blows is the life of the river flowing for ever that washes +the grasses still as it passes and feeds the daisies the little white +praises and buttercups bonny so golden and sunny with butter and honey +that whiten the sheep awake or asleep that nibble and bite and grow +whiter than white and merry and quiet on the sweet diet fed by the river +and tossed for ever by the wind that tosses the swallow that crosses +over the shallows dipping his wings to gather the water and bake the +cake that the wind shall make as hard as a bone as dry as a stone it's +all in the wind that blows from behind and all in the river that flows +for ever and all in the grasses and the white daisies and the merry +sheep awake or asleep and the happy swallows skimming the shallows and +it's all in the wind that blows from behind. + + +Here Diamond became aware that his mother had stopped reading. + +“Why don't you go on, mother dear?” he asked. + +“It's such nonsense!” said his mother. “I believe it would go on for +ever.” + +“That's just what it did,” said Diamond. + +“What did?” she asked. + +“Why, the river. That's almost the very tune it used to sing.” + +His mother was frightened, for she thought the fever was coming on +again. So she did not contradict him. + +“Who made that poem?” asked Diamond. + +“I don't know,” she answered. “Some silly woman for her children, I +suppose--and then thought it good enough to print.” + +“She must have been at the back of the north wind some time or other, +anyhow,” said Diamond. “She couldn't have got a hold of it anywhere +else. That's just how it went.” And he began to chant bits of it here +and there; but his mother said nothing for fear of making him, worse; +and she was very glad indeed when she saw her brother-in-law jogging +along in his little cart. They lifted Diamond in, and got up themselves, +and away they went, “home again, home again, home again,” as Diamond +sang. But he soon grew quiet, and before they reached Sandwich he was +fast asleep and dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. OLD DIAMOND + + +AFTER this Diamond recovered so fast, that in a few days he was quite +able to go home as soon as his father had a place for them to go. Now +his father having saved a little money, and finding that no situation +offered itself, had been thinking over a new plan. A strange occurrence +it was which turned his thoughts in that direction. He had a friend in +the Bloomsbury region, who lived by letting out cabs and horses to the +cabmen. This man, happening to meet him one day as he was returning from +an unsuccessful application, said to him: + +“Why don't you set up for yourself now--in the cab line, I mean?” + +“I haven't enough for that,” answered Diamond's father. + +“You must have saved a goodish bit, I should think. Just come home with +me now and look at a horse I can let you have cheap. I bought him only a +few weeks ago, thinking he'd do for a Hansom, but I was wrong. He's got +bone enough for a waggon, but a waggon ain't a Hansom. He ain't got go +enough for a Hansom. You see parties as takes Hansoms wants to go like +the wind, and he ain't got wind enough, for he ain't so young as he once +was. But for a four-wheeler as takes families and their luggages, he's +the very horse. He'd carry a small house any day. I bought him cheap, +and I'll sell him cheap.” + +“Oh, I don't want him,” said Diamond's father. “A body must have time +to think over an affair of so much importance. And there's the cab too. +That would come to a deal of money.” + +“I could fit you there, I daresay,” said his friend. “But come and look +at the animal, anyhow.” + +“Since I lost my own old pair, as was Mr. Coleman's,” said Diamond's +father, turning to accompany the cab-master, “I ain't almost got the +heart to look a horse in the face. It's a thousand pities to part man +and horse.” + +“So it is,” returned his friend sympathetically. + +But what was the ex-coachman's delight, when, on going into the stable +where his friend led him, he found the horse he wanted him to buy was +no other than his own old Diamond, grown very thin and bony and +long-legged, as if they, had been doing what they could to fit him for +Hansom work! + +“He ain't a Hansom horse,” said Diamond's father indignantly. + +“Well, you're right. He ain't handsome, but he's a good un” said his +owner. + +“Who says he ain't handsome? He's one of the handsomest horses a +gentleman's coachman ever druv,” said Diamond's father; remarking to +himself under his breath--“though I says it as shouldn't”--for he did +not feel inclined all at once to confess that his own old horse could +have sunk so low. + +“Well,” said his friend, “all I say is--There's a animal for you, as +strong as a church; an'll go like a train, leastways a parly,” he added, +correcting himself. + +But the coachman had a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. For the +old horse, hearing his voice, had turned his long neck, and when his +old friend went up to him and laid his hand on his side, he whinnied +for joy, and laid his big head on his master's breast. This settled the +matter. The coachman's arms were round the horse's neck in a moment, and +he fairly broke down and cried. The cab-master had never been so fond of +a horse himself as to hug him like that, but he saw in a moment how it +was. And he must have been a good-hearted fellow, for I never heard of +such an idea coming into the head of any other man with a horse to sell: +instead of putting something on to the price because he was now pretty +sure of selling him, he actually took a pound off what he had meant to +ask for him, saying to himself it was a shame to part old friends. + +Diamond's father, as soon as he came to himself, turned and asked how +much he wanted for the horse. + +“I see you're old friends,” said the owner. + +“It's my own old Diamond. I liked him far the best of the pair, though +the other was good. You ain't got him too, have you?” + +“No; nothing in the stable to match him there.” + +“I believe you,” said the coachman. “But you'll be wanting a long price +for him, I know.” + +“No, not so much. I bought him cheap, and as I say, he ain't for my +work.” + +The end of it was that Diamond's father bought old Diamond again, along +with a four-wheeled cab. And as there were some rooms to be had over the +stable, he took them, wrote to his wife to come home, and set up as a +cabman. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE MEWS + + +IT WAS late in the afternoon when Diamond and his mother and the baby +reached London. I was so full of Diamond that I forgot to tell you a +baby had arrived in the meantime. His father was waiting for them with +his own cab, but they had not told Diamond who the horse was; for his +father wanted to enjoy the pleasure of his surprise when he found it +out. He got in with his mother without looking at the horse, and his +father having put up Diamond's carpet-bag and his mother's little trunk, +got upon the box himself and drove off; and Diamond was quite proud of +riding home in his father's own carriage. But when he got to the mews, +he could not help being a little dismayed at first; and if he had never +been to the back of the north wind, I am afraid he would have cried a +little. But instead of that, he said to himself it was a fine thing all +the old furniture was there. And instead of helping his mother to be +miserable at the change, he began to find out all the advantages of the +place; for every place has some advantages, and they are always +better worth knowing than the disadvantages. Certainly the weather was +depressing, for a thick, dull, persistent rain was falling by the time +they reached home. But happily the weather is very changeable; and +besides, there was a good fire burning in the room, which their +neighbour with the drunken husband had attended to for them; and the +tea-things were put out, and the kettle was boiling on the fire. And +with a good fire, and tea and bread and butter, things cannot be said to +be miserable. + +Diamond's father and mother were, notwithstanding, rather miserable, and +Diamond began to feel a kind of darkness beginning to spread over his +own mind. But the same moment he said to himself, “This will never do. +I can't give in to this. I've been to the back of the north wind. Things +go right there, and so I must try to get things to go right here. I've +got to fight the miserable things. They shan't make me miserable if I +can help it.” I do not mean that he thought these very words. They are +perhaps too grown-up for him to have thought, but they represent the +kind of thing that was in his heart and his head. And when heart and +head go together, nothing can stand before them. + +“What nice bread and butter this is!” said Diamond. + +“I'm glad you like it, my dear” said his father. “I bought the butter +myself at the little shop round the corner.” + +“It's very nice, thank you, father. Oh, there's baby waking! I'll take +him.” + +“Sit still, Diamond,” said his mother. “Go on with your bread and +butter. You're not strong enough to lift him yet.” + +So she took the baby herself, and set him on her knee. Then Diamond +began to amuse him, and went on till the little fellow was shrieking +with laughter. For the baby's world was his mother's arms; and the +drizzling rain, and the dreary mews, and even his father's troubled +face could not touch him. What cared baby for the loss of a hundred +situations? Yet neither father nor mother thought him hard-hearted +because he crowed and laughed in the middle of their troubles. On the +contrary, his crowing and laughing were infectious. His little heart was +so full of merriment that it could not hold it all, and it ran over into +theirs. Father and mother began to laugh too, and Diamond laughed till +he had a fit of coughing which frightened his mother, and made them all +stop. His father took the baby, and his mother put him to bed. + +But it was indeed a change to them all, not only from Sandwich, but from +their old place, instead of the great river where the huge barges with +their mighty brown and yellow sails went tacking from side to side like +little pleasure-skiffs, and where the long thin boats shot past with +eight and sometimes twelve rowers, their windows now looked out upon a +dirty paved yard. And there was no garden more for Diamond to run into +when he pleased, with gay flowers about his feet, and solemn sun-filled +trees over his head. Neither was there a wooden wall at the back of +his bed with a hole in it for North Wind to come in at when she liked. +Indeed, there was such a high wall, and there were so many houses about +the mews, that North Wind seldom got into the place at all, except when +something must be done, and she had a grand cleaning out like other +housewives; while the partition at the head of Diamond's new bed only +divided it from the room occupied by a cabman who drank too much beer, +and came home chiefly to quarrel with his wife and pinch his children. +It was dreadful to Diamond to hear the scolding and the crying. But it +could not make him miserable, because he had been at the back of the +north wind. + +If my reader find it hard to believe that Diamond should be so good, +he must remember that he had been to the back of the north wind. If he +never knew a boy so good, did he ever know a boy that had been to the +back of the north wind? It was not in the least strange of Diamond to +behave as he did; on the contrary, it was thoroughly sensible of him. + +We shall see how he got on. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. DIAMOND MAKES A BEGINNING + + +THE wind blew loud, but Diamond slept a deep sleep, and never heard +it. My own impression is that every time when Diamond slept well and +remembered nothing about it in the morning, he had been all that night +at the back of the north wind. I am almost sure that was how he woke +so refreshed, and felt so quiet and hopeful all the day. Indeed he said +this much, though not to me--that always when he woke from such a sleep +there was a something in his mind, he could not tell what--could not +tell whether it was the last far-off sounds of the river dying away in +the distance, or some of the words of the endless song his mother had +read to him on the sea-shore. Sometimes he thought it must have been +the twittering of the swallows--over the shallows, you, know; but it may +have been the chirping of the dingy sparrows picking up their breakfast +in the yard--how can I tell? I don't know what I know, I only know what +I think; and to tell the truth, I am more for the swallows than the +sparrows. When he knew he was coming awake, he would sometimes try hard +to keep hold of the words of what seemed a new song, one he had not +heard before--a song in which the words and the music somehow appeared +to be all one; but even when he thought he had got them well fixed in +his mind, ever as he came awaker--as he would say--one line faded away +out of it, and then another, and then another, till at last there was +nothing left but some lovely picture of water or grass or daisies, or +something else very common, but with all the commonness polished off it, +and the lovely soul of it, which people so seldom see, and, alas! yet +seldomer believe in, shining out. But after that he would sing the +oddest, loveliest little songs to the baby--of his own making, his +mother said; but Diamond said he did not make them; they were made +somewhere inside him, and he knew nothing about them till they were +coming out. + +When he woke that first morning he got up at once, saying to himself, +“I've been ill long enough, and have given a great deal of trouble; I +must try and be of use now, and help my mother.” When he went into her +room he found her lighting the fire, and his father just getting out of +bed. They had only the one room, besides the little one, not much more +than a closet, in which Diamond slept. He began at once to set things +to rights, but the baby waking up, he took him, and nursed him till +his mother had got the breakfast ready. She was looking gloomy, and his +father was silent; and indeed except Diamond had done all he possibly +could to keep out the misery that was trying to get in at doors and +windows, he too would have grown miserable, and then they would have +been all miserable together. But to try to make others comfortable is +the only way to get right comfortable ourselves, and that comes partly +of not being able to think so much about ourselves when we are helping +other people. For our Selves will always do pretty well if we don't pay +them too much attention. Our Selves are like some little children who +will be happy enough so long as they are left to their own games, but +when we begin to interfere with them, and make them presents of too nice +playthings, or too many sweet things, they begin at once to fret and +spoil. + +“Why, Diamond, child!” said his mother at last, “you're as good to your +mother as if you were a girl--nursing the baby, and toasting the bread, +and sweeping up the hearth! I declare a body would think you had been +among the fairies.” + +Could Diamond have had greater praise or greater pleasure? You see +when he forgot his Self his mother took care of his Self, and loved and +praised his Self. Our own praises poison our Selves, and puff and swell +them up, till they lose all shape and beauty, and become like great +toadstools. But the praises of father or mother do our Selves good, and +comfort them and make them beautiful. They never do them any harm. If +they do any harm, it comes of our mixing some of our own praises with +them, and that turns them nasty and slimy and poisonous. + +When his father had finished his breakfast, which he did rather in a +hurry, he got up and went down into the yard to get out his horse and +put him to the cab. + +“Won't you come and see the cab, Diamond?” he said. + +“Yes, please, father--if mother can spare me a minute,” answered +Diamond. + +“Bless the child! I don't want him,” said his mother cheerfully. + +But as he was following his father out of the door, she called him back. + +“Diamond, just hold the baby one minute. I have something to say to your +father.” + +So Diamond sat down again, took the baby in his lap, and began poking +his face into its little body, laughing and singing all the while, +so that the baby crowed like a little bantam. And what he sang was +something like this--such nonsense to those that couldn't understand it! +but not to the baby, who got all the good in the world out of it:-- +baby's a-sleeping wake up baby for all the swallows are the merriest +fellows and have the yellowest children who would go sleeping and +snore like a gaby disturbing his mother and father and brother and all +a-boring their ears with his snoring snoring snoring for himself and no +other for himself in particular wake up baby sit up perpendicular hark +to the gushing hark to the rushing where the sheep are the woolliest and +the lambs the unruliest and their tails the whitest and their eyes the +brightest and baby's the bonniest and baby's the funniest and baby's the +shiniest and baby's the tiniest and baby's the merriest and baby's +the worriest of all the lambs that plague their dams and mother's +the whitest of all the dams that feed the lambs that go crop-cropping +without stop-stopping and father's the best of all the swallows that +build their nest out of the shining shallows and he has the merriest +children that's baby and Diamond and Diamond and baby and baby and +Diamond and Diamond and baby-- + + +Here Diamond's knees went off in a wild dance which tossed the baby +about and shook the laughter out of him in immoderate peals. His mother +had been listening at the door to the last few lines of his song, and +came in with the tears in her eyes. She took the baby from him, gave him +a kiss, and told him to run to his father. + +By the time Diamond got into the yard, the horse was between the shafts, +and his father was looping the traces on. Diamond went round to look at +the horse. The sight of him made him feel very queer. He did not know +much about different horses, and all other horses than their own were +very much the same to him. But he could not make it out. This was +Diamond and it wasn't Diamond. Diamond didn't hang his head like that; +yet the head that was hanging was very like the one that Diamond used +to hold so high. Diamond's bones didn't show through his skin like that; +but the skin they pushed out of shape so was very like Diamond's skin; +and the bones might be Diamond's bones, for he had never seen the shape +of them. But when he came round in front of the old horse, and he put +out his long neck, and began sniffing at him and rubbing his upper lip +and his nose on him, then Diamond saw it could be no other than old +Diamond, and he did just as his father had done before--put his arms +round his neck and cried--but not much. + +“Ain't it jolly, father?” he said. “Was there ever anybody so lucky as +me? Dear old Diamond!” + +And he hugged the horse again, and kissed both his big hairy cheeks. He +could only manage one at a time, however--the other cheek was so far off +on the other side of his big head. + +His father mounted the box with just the same air, as Diamond thought, +with which he had used to get upon the coach-box, and Diamond said +to himself, “Father's as grand as ever anyhow.” He had kept his brown +livery-coat, only his wife had taken the silver buttons off and put +brass ones instead, because they did not think it polite to Mr. Coleman +in his fallen fortunes to let his crest be seen upon the box of a cab. +Old Diamond had kept just his collar; and that had the silver crest upon +it still, for his master thought nobody would notice that, and so let it +remain for a memorial of the better days of which it reminded him--not +unpleasantly, seeing it had been by no fault either of his or of the old +horse's that they had come down in the world together. + +“Oh, father, do let me drive a bit,” said Diamond, jumping up on the box +beside him. + +His father changed places with him at once, putting the reins into his +hands. Diamond gathered them up eagerly. + +“Don't pull at his mouth,” said his father, “just feel, at it gently +to let him know you're there and attending to him. That's what I call +talking to him through the reins.” + +“Yes, father, I understand,” said Diamond. Then to the horse he said, +“Go on Diamond.” And old Diamond's ponderous bulk began at once to move +to the voice of the little boy. + +But before they had reached the entrance of the mews, another voice +called after young Diamond, which, in his turn, he had to obey, for it +was that of his mother. “Diamond! Diamond!” it cried; and Diamond pulled +the reins, and the horse stood still as a stone. + +“Husband,” said his mother, coming up, “you're never going to trust him +with the reins--a baby like that?” + +“He must learn some day, and he can't begin too soon. I see already he's +a born coachman,” said his father proudly. “And I don't see well how +he could escape it, for my father and my grandfather, that's his +great-grandfather, was all coachmen, I'm told; so it must come natural +to him, any one would think. Besides, you see, old Diamond's as proud of +him as we are our own selves, wife. Don't you see how he's turning round +his ears, with the mouths of them open, for the first word he speaks to +tumble in? He's too well bred to turn his head, you know.” + +“Well, but, husband, I can't do without him to-day. Everything's got to +be done, you know. It's my first day here. And there's that baby!” + +“Bless you, wife! I never meant to take him away--only to the bottom of +Endell Street. He can watch his way back.” + +“No thank you, father; not to-day,” said Diamond. “Mother wants me. +Perhaps she'll let me go another day.” + +“Very well, my man,” said his father, and took the reins which Diamond +was holding out to him. + +Diamond got down, a little disappointed of course, and went with his +mother, who was too pleased to speak. She only took hold of his hand as +tight as if she had been afraid of his running away instead of glad that +he would not leave her. + +Now, although they did not know it, the owner of the stables, the same +man who had sold the horse to his father, had been standing just inside +one of the stable-doors, with his hands in his pockets, and had heard +and seen all that passed; and from that day John Stonecrop took a great +fancy to the little boy. And this was the beginning of what came of it. + +The same evening, just as Diamond was feeling tired of the day's work, +and wishing his father would come home, Mr. Stonecrop knocked at the +door. His mother went and opened it. + +“Good evening, ma'am,” said he. “Is the little master in?” + +“Yes, to be sure he is--at your service, I'm sure, Mr. Stonecrop,” said +his mother. + +“No, no, ma'am; it's I'm at his service. I'm just a-going out with my +own cab, and if he likes to come with me, he shall drive my old horse +till he's tired.” + +“It's getting rather late for him,” said his mother thoughtfully. “You +see he's been an invalid.” + +Diamond thought, what a funny thing! How could he have been an invalid +when he did not even know what the word meant? But, of course, his +mother was right. + +“Oh, well,” said Mr. Stonecrop, “I can just let him drive through +Bloomsbury Square, and then he shall run home again.” + +“Very good, sir. And I'm much obliged to you,” said his mother. +And Diamond, dancing with delight, got his cap, put his hand in Mr. +Stonecrop's, and went with him to the yard where the cab was waiting. +He did not think the horse looked nearly so nice as Diamond, nor Mr. +Stonecrop nearly so grand as his father; but he was none, the less +pleased. He got up on the box, and his new friend got up beside him. + +“What's the horse's name?” whispered Diamond, as he took the reins from +the man. + +“It's not a nice name,” said Mr. Stonecrop. “You needn't call him by it. +I didn't give it him. He'll go well enough without it. Give the boy a +whip, Jack. I never carries one when I drive old----” + +He didn't finish the sentence. Jack handed Diamond a whip, with which, +by holding it half down the stick, he managed just to flack the haunches +of the horse; and away he went. + +“Mind the gate,” said Mr. Stonecrop; and Diamond did mind the gate, and +guided the nameless horse through it in safety, pulling him this way and +that according as was necessary. Diamond learned to drive all the sooner +that he had been accustomed to do what he was told, and could obey the +smallest hint in a moment. Nothing helps one to get on like that. Some +people don't know how to do what they are told; they have not been used +to it, and they neither understand quickly nor are able to turn what +they do understand into action quickly. With an obedient mind one learns +the rights of things fast enough; for it is the law of the universe, and +to obey is to understand. + +“Look out!” cried Mr. Stonecrop, as they were turning the corner into +Bloomsbury Square. + +It was getting dusky now. A cab was approaching rather rapidly from +the opposite direction, and Diamond pulling aside, and the other driver +pulling up, they only just escaped a collision. Then they knew each +other. + +“Why, Diamond, it's a bad beginning to run into your own father,” cried +the driver. + +“But, father, wouldn't it have been a bad ending to run into your own +son?” said Diamond in return; and the two men laughed heartily. + +“This is very kind of you, I'm sure, Stonecrop,” said his father. + +“Not a bit. He's a brave fellow, and'll be fit to drive on his own hook +in a week or two. But I think you'd better let him drive you home now, +for his mother don't like his having over much of the night air, and I +promised not to take him farther than the square.” + +“Come along then, Diamond,” said his father, as he brought his cab up to +the other, and moved off the box to the seat beside it. Diamond jumped +across, caught at the reins, said “Good-night, and thank you, Mr. +Stonecrop,” and drove away home, feeling more of a man than he had ever +yet had a chance of feeling in all his life. Nor did his father find it +necessary to give him a single hint as to his driving. Only I suspect +the fact that it was old Diamond, and old Diamond on his way to his +stable, may have had something to do with young Diamond's success. + +“Well, child,” said his mother, when he entered the room, “you've not +been long gone.” + +“No, mother; here I am. Give me the baby.” + +“The baby's asleep,” said his mother. + +“Then give him to me, and I'll lay him down.” + +But as Diamond took him, he woke up and began to laugh. For he was +indeed one of the merriest children. And no wonder, for he was as plump +as a plum-pudding, and had never had an ache or a pain that lasted more +than five minutes at a time. Diamond sat down with him and began to sing +to him. + +baby baby babbing your father's gone a-cabbing to catch a shilling for +its pence to make the baby babbing dance for old Diamond's a duck they +say he can swim but the duck of diamonds is baby that's him and of all +the swallows the merriest fellows that bake their cake with the water +they shake out of the river flowing for ever and make dust into clay on +the shiniest day to build their nest father's the best and mother's the +whitest and her eyes are the brightest of all the dams that watch their +lambs cropping the grass where the waters pass singing for ever and of +all the lambs with the shakingest tails and the jumpingest feet baby's +the funniest baby's the bonniest and he never wails and he's always +sweet and Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his +nurse + + +When Diamond's rhymes grew scarce, he always began dancing the baby. +Some people wondered that such a child could rhyme as he did, but his +rhymes were not very good, for he was only trying to remember what he +had heard the river sing at the back of the north wind. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. DIAMOND GOES ON + + +DIAMOND became a great favourite with all the men about the mews. Some +may think it was not the best place in the world for him to be brought +up in; but it must have been, for there he was. At first, he heard a +good many rough and bad words; but he did not like them, and so they did +him little harm. He did not know in the least what they meant, but there +was something in the very sound of them, and in the tone of voice in +which they were said, which Diamond felt to be ugly. So they did not +even stick to him, not to say get inside him. He never took any notice +of them, and his face shone pure and good in the middle of them, like +a primrose in a hailstorm. At first, because his face was so quiet +and sweet, with a smile always either awake or asleep in his eyes, and +because he never heeded their ugly words and rough jokes, they said he +wasn't all there, meaning that he was half an idiot, whereas he was a +great deal more there than they had the sense to see. And before long +the bad words found themselves ashamed to come out of the men's mouths +when Diamond was near. The one would nudge the other to remind him that +the boy was within hearing, and the words choked themselves before they +got any farther. When they talked to him nicely he had always a good +answer, sometimes a smart one, ready, and that helped much to make them +change their minds about him. + +One day Jack gave him a curry-comb and a brush to try his hand upon +old Diamond's coat. He used them so deftly, so gently, and yet so +thoroughly, as far as he could reach, that the man could not help +admiring him. + +“You must make haste and, grow” he said. “It won't do to have a horse's +belly clean and his back dirty, you know.” + +“Give me a leg,” said Diamond, and in a moment he was on the old horse's +back with the comb and brush. He sat on his withers, and reaching +forward as he ate his hay, he curried and he brushed, first at one side +of his neck, and then at the other. When that was done he asked for a +dressing-comb, and combed his mane thoroughly. Then he pushed himself on +to his back, and did his shoulders as far down as he could reach. Then +he sat on his croup, and did his back and sides; then he turned around +like a monkey, and attacked his hind-quarters, and combed his tail. This +last was not so easy to manage, for he had to lift it up, and every now +and then old Diamond would whisk it out of his hands, and once he sent +the comb flying out of the stable door, to the great amusement of the +men. But Jack fetched it again, and Diamond began once more, and did not +leave off until he had done the whole business fairly well, if not in +a first-rate, experienced fashion. All the time the old horse went +on eating his hay, and, but with an occasional whisk of his tail when +Diamond tickled or scratched him, took no notice of the proceeding. +But that was all a pretence, for he knew very well who it was that +was perched on his back, and rubbing away at him with the comb and the +brush. So he was quite pleased and proud, and perhaps said to himself +something like this-- + +“I'm a stupid old horse, who can't brush his own coat; but there's my +young godson on my back, cleaning me like an angel.” + +I won't vouch for what the old horse was thinking, for it is very +difficult to find out what any old horse is thinking. + +“Oh dear!” said Diamond when he had done, “I'm so tired!” + +And he laid himself down at full length on old Diamond's back. + +By this time all the men in the stable were gathered about the two +Diamonds, and all much amused. One of them lifted him down, and from +that time he was a greater favourite than before. And if ever there was +a boy who had a chance of being a prodigy at cab-driving, Diamond was +that boy, for the strife came to be who should have him out with him on +the box. + +His mother, however, was a little shy of the company for him, and +besides she could not always spare him. Also his father liked to have +him himself when he could; so that he was more desired than enjoyed +among the cabmen. + +But one way and another he did learn to drive all sorts of horses, and +to drive them well, and that through the most crowded streets in London +City. Of course there was the man always on the box-seat beside him, but +before long there was seldom the least occasion to take the reins +from out of his hands. For one thing he never got frightened, and +consequently was never in too great a hurry. Yet when the moment came +for doing something sharp, he was always ready for it. I must once more +remind my readers that he had been to the back of the north wind. + +One day, which was neither washing-day, nor cleaning-day nor +marketing-day, nor Saturday, nor Monday--upon which consequently Diamond +could be spared from the baby--his father took him on his own cab. After +a stray job or two by the way, they drew up in the row upon the stand +between Cockspur Street and Pall Mall. They waited a long time, but +nobody seemed to want to be carried anywhere. By and by ladies would be +going home from the Academy exhibition, and then there would be a chance +of a job. + +“Though, to be sure,” said Diamond's father--with what truth I cannot +say, but he believed what he said--“some ladies is very hard, and keeps +you to the bare sixpence a mile, when every one knows that ain't enough +to keep a family and a cab upon. To be sure it's the law; but mayhap +they may get more law than they like some day themselves.” + +As it was very hot, Diamond's father got down to have a glass of beer +himself, and give another to the old waterman. He left Diamond on the +box. + +A sudden noise got up, and Diamond looked round to see what was the +matter. + +There was a crossing near the cab-stand, where a girl was sweeping. Some +rough young imps had picked a quarrel with her, and were now hauling +at her broom to get it away from her. But as they did not pull all +together, she was holding it against them, scolding and entreating +alternately. + +Diamond was off his box in a moment, and running to the help of the +girl. He got hold of the broom at her end and pulled along with her. But +the boys proceeded to rougher measures, and one of them hit Diamond on +the nose, and made it bleed; and as he could not let go the broom to +mind his nose, he was soon a dreadful figure. But presently his father +came back, and missing Diamond, looked about. He had to look twice, +however, before he could be sure that that was his boy in the middle +of the tumult. He rushed in, and sent the assailants flying in all +directions. The girl thanked Diamond, and began sweeping as if nothing +had happened, while his father led him away. With the help of old Tom, +the waterman, he was soon washed into decency, and his father set him on +the box again, perfectly satisfied with the account he gave of the cause +of his being in a fray. + +“I couldn't let them behave so to a poor girl--could I, father?” he +said. + +“Certainly not, Diamond,” said his father, quite pleased, for Diamond's +father was a gentleman. + +A moment after, up came the girl, running, with her broom over her +shoulder, and calling, “Cab, there! cab!” + +Diamond's father turned instantly, for he was the foremost in the rank, +and followed the girl. One or two other passing cabs heard the cry, and +made for the place, but the girl had taken care not to call till she was +near enough to give her friends the first chance. When they reached +the curbstone--who should it be waiting for the cab but Mrs. and Miss +Coleman! They did not look at the cabman, however. The girl opened the +door for them; they gave her the address, and a penny; she told the +cabman, and away they drove. + +When they reached the house, Diamond's father got down and rang the +bell. As he opened the door of the cab, he touched his hat as he had +been wont to do. The ladies both stared for a moment, and then exclaimed +together: + +“Why, Joseph! can it be you?” + +“Yes, ma'am; yes, miss,” answered he, again touching his hat, with all +the respect he could possibly put into the action. “It's a lucky day +which I see you once more upon it.” + +“Who would have thought it?” said Mrs. Coleman. “It's changed times for +both of us, Joseph, and it's not very often we can have a cab even; but +you see my daughter is still very poorly, and she can't bear the motion +of the omnibuses. Indeed we meant to walk a bit first before we took a +cab, but just at the corner, for as hot as the sun was, a cold wind came +down the street, and I saw that Miss Coleman must not face it. But to +think we should have fallen upon you, of all the cabmen in London! I +didn't know you had got a cab.” + +“Well, you see, ma'am, I had a chance of buying the old horse, and I +couldn't resist him. There he is, looking at you, ma'am. Nobody knows +the sense in that head of his.” + +The two ladies went near to pat the horse, and then they noticed Diamond +on the box. + +“Why, you've got both Diamonds with you,” said Miss Coleman. “How do you +do, Diamond?” + +Diamond lifted his cap, and answered politely. + +“He'll be fit to drive himself before long,” said his father, proudly. +“The old horse is a-teaching of him.” + +“Well, he must come and see us, now you've found us out. Where do you +live?” + +Diamond's father gave the ladies a ticket with his name and address +printed on it; and then Mrs. Coleman took out her purse, saying: + +“And what's your fare, Joseph?” + +“No, thank you, ma'am,” said Joseph. “It was your own old horse as took +you; and me you paid long ago.” + +He jumped on his box before she could say another word, and with a +parting salute drove off, leaving them on the pavement, with the maid +holding the door for them. + +It was a long time now since Diamond had seen North Wind, or even +thought much about her. And as his father drove along, he was thinking +not about her, but about the crossing-sweeper, and was wondering what +made him feel as if he knew her quite well, when he could not remember +anything of her. But a picture arose in his mind of a little girl +running before the wind and dragging her broom after her; and from that, +by degrees, he recalled the whole adventure of the night when he got +down from North Wind's back in a London street. But he could not quite +satisfy himself whether the whole affair was not a dream which he had +dreamed when he was a very little boy. Only he had been to the back of +the north wind since--there could be no doubt of that; for when he woke +every morning, he always knew that he had been there again. And as he +thought and thought, he recalled another thing that had happened that +morning, which, although it seemed a mere accident, might have something +to do with what had happened since. His father had intended going on the +stand at King's Cross that morning, and had turned into Gray's Inn Lane +to drive there, when they found the way blocked up, and upon inquiry +were informed that a stack of chimneys had been blown down in the night, +and had fallen across the road. They were just clearing the rubbish +away. Diamond's father turned, and made for Charing Cross. + +That night the father and mother had a great deal to talk about. + +“Poor things!” said the mother. “it's worse for them than it is for us. +You see they've been used to such grand things, and for them to come +down to a little poky house like that--it breaks my heart to think of +it.” + +“I don't know” said Diamond thoughtfully, “whether Mrs. Coleman had +bells on her toes.” + +“What do you mean, child?” said his mother. + +“She had rings on her fingers, anyhow,” returned Diamond. + +“Of course she had, as any lady would. What has that to do with it?” + +“When we were down at Sandwich,” said Diamond, “you said you would have +to part with your mother's ring, now we were poor.” + +“Bless the child; he forgets nothing,” said his mother. “Really, +Diamond, a body would need to mind what they say to you.” + +“Why?” said Diamond. “I only think about it.” + +“That's just why,” said the mother. + +“Why is that why?” persisted Diamond, for he had not yet learned that +grown-up people are not often so much grown up that they never talk like +children--and spoilt ones too. + +“Mrs. Coleman is none so poor as all that yet. No, thank Heaven! she's +not come to that.” + +“Is it a great disgrace to be poor?” asked Diamond, because of the tone +in which his mother had spoken. + +But his mother, whether conscience-stricken I do not know hurried him +away to bed, where after various attempts to understand her, resumed and +resumed again in spite of invading sleep, he was conquered at last, and +gave in, murmuring over and over to himself, “Why is why?” but getting +no answer to the question. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE DRUNKEN CABMAN + + +A FEW nights after this, Diamond woke up suddenly, believing he heard +North Wind thundering along. But it was something quite different. South +Wind was moaning round the chimneys, to be sure, for she was not very +happy that night, but it was not her voice that had wakened Diamond. Her +voice would only have lulled him the deeper asleep. It was a loud, angry +voice, now growling like that of a beast, now raving like that of a +madman; and when Diamond came a little wider awake, he knew that it was +the voice of the drunken cabman, the wall of whose room was at the head +of his bed. It was anything but pleasant to hear, but he could not help +hearing it. At length there came a cry from the woman, and then a scream +from the baby. Thereupon Diamond thought it time that somebody did +something, and as himself was the only somebody at hand, he must go and +see whether he could not do something. So he got up and put on part of +his clothes, and went down the stair, for the cabman's room did not open +upon their stair, and he had to go out into the yard, and in at the next +door. This, fortunately, the cabman, being drunk, had left open. By +the time he reached their stair, all was still except the voice of the +crying baby, which guided him to the right door. He opened it softly, +and peeped in. There, leaning back in a chair, with his arms hanging +down by his sides, and his legs stretched out before him and supported +on his heels, sat the drunken cabman. His wife lay in her clothes upon +the bed, sobbing, and the baby was wailing in the cradle. It was very +miserable altogether. + +Now the way most people do when they see anything very miserable is to +turn away from the sight, and try to forget it. But Diamond began as +usual to try to destroy the misery. The little boy was just as much one +of God's messengers as if he had been an angel with a flaming sword, +going out to fight the devil. The devil he had to fight just then +was Misery. And the way he fought him was the very best. Like a wise +soldier, he attacked him first in his weakest point--that was the baby; +for Misery can never get such a hold of a baby as of a grown person. +Diamond was knowing in babies, and he knew he could do something to make +the baby, happy; for although he had only known one baby as yet, and +although not one baby is the same as another, yet they are so very much +alike in some things, and he knew that one baby so thoroughly, that he +had good reason to believe he could do something for any other. I have +known people who would have begun to fight the devil in a very different +and a very stupid way. They would have begun by scolding the idiotic +cabman; and next they would make his wife angry by saying it must be her +fault as well as his, and by leaving ill-bred though well-meant shabby +little books for them to read, which they were sure to hate the sight +of; while all the time they would not have put out a finger to touch the +wailing baby. But Diamond had him out of the cradle in a moment, set +him up on his knee, and told him to look at the light. Now all the light +there was came only from a lamp in the yard, and it was a very dingy and +yellow light, for the glass of the lamp was dirty, and the gas was bad; +but the light that came from it was, notwithstanding, as certainly +light as if it had come from the sun itself, and the baby knew that, and +smiled to it; and although it was indeed a wretched room which that lamp +lighted--so dreary, and dirty, and empty, and hopeless!--there in the +middle of it sat Diamond on a stool, smiling to the baby, and the baby +on his knees smiling to the lamp. The father of him sat staring at +nothing, neither asleep nor awake, not quite lost in stupidity either, +for through it all he was dimly angry with himself, he did not know +why. It was that he had struck his wife. He had forgotten it, but was +miserable about it, notwithstanding. And this misery was the voice of +the great Love that had made him and his wife and the baby and Diamond, +speaking in his heart, and telling him to be good. For that great Love +speaks in the most wretched and dirty hearts; only the tone of its voice +depends on the echoes of the place in which it sounds. On Mount Sinai, +it was thunder; in the cabman's heart it was misery; in the soul of St. +John it was perfect blessedness. + +By and by he became aware that there was a voice of singing in the room. +This, of course, was the voice of Diamond singing to the baby--song +after song, every one as foolish as another to the cabman, for he was +too tipsy to part one word from another: all the words mixed up in his +ear in a gurgle without division or stop; for such was the way he spoke +himself, when he was in this horrid condition. But the baby was more +than content with Diamond's songs, and Diamond himself was so contented +with what the songs were all about, that he did not care a bit about the +songs themselves, if only baby liked them. But they did the cabman good +as well as the baby and Diamond, for they put him to sleep, and the +sleep was busy all the time it lasted, smoothing the wrinkles out of his +temper. + +At length Diamond grew tired of singing, and began to talk to the baby +instead. And as soon as he stopped singing, the cabman began to wake up. +His brain was a little clearer now, his temper a little smoother, +and his heart not quite so dirty. He began to listen and he went on +listening, and heard Diamond saying to the baby something like this, for +he thought the cabman was asleep: + +“Poor daddy! Baby's daddy takes too much beer and gin, and that makes +him somebody else, and not his own self at all. Baby's daddy would never +hit baby's mammy if he didn't take too much beer. He's very fond of +baby's mammy, and works from morning to night to get her breakfast and +dinner and supper, only at night he forgets, and pays the money away for +beer. And they put nasty stuff in beer, I've heard my daddy say, that +drives all the good out, and lets all the bad in. Daddy says when a man +takes a drink, there's a thirsty devil creeps into his inside, because +he knows he will always get enough there. And the devil is always crying +out for more drink, and that makes the man thirsty, and so he drinks +more and more, till he kills himself with it. And then the ugly devil +creeps out of him, and crawls about on his belly, looking for some other +cabman to get into, that he may drink, drink, drink. That's what my +daddy says, baby. And he says, too, the only way to make the devil come +out is to give him plenty of cold water and tea and coffee, and nothing +at all that comes from the public-house; for the devil can't abide that +kind of stuff, and creeps out pretty soon, for fear of being drowned +in it. But your daddy will drink the nasty stuff, poor man! I wish he +wouldn't, for it makes mammy cross with him, and no wonder! and then +when mammy's cross, he's crosser, and there's nobody in the house to +take care of them but baby; and you do take care of them, baby--don't +you, baby? I know you do. Babies always take care of their fathers and +mothers--don't they, baby? That's what they come for--isn't it, baby? +And when daddy stops drinking beer and nasty gin with turpentine in it, +father says, then mammy will be so happy, and look so pretty! and daddy +will be so good to baby! and baby will be as happy as a swallow, which +is the merriest fellow! And Diamond will be so happy too! And when +Diamond's a man, he'll take baby out with him on the box, and teach him +to drive a cab.” + +He went on with chatter like this till baby was asleep, by which time +he was tired, and father and mother were both wide awake--only rather +confused--the one from the beer, the other from the blow--and staring, +the one from his chair, the other from her bed, at Diamond. But he was +quite unaware of their notice, for he sat half-asleep, with his eyes +wide open, staring in his turn, though without knowing it, at the +cabman, while the cabman could not withdraw his gaze from Diamond's +white face and big eyes. For Diamond's face was always rather pale, and +now it was paler than usual with sleeplessness, and the light of the +street-lamp upon it. At length he found himself nodding, and he knew +then it was time to put the baby down, lest he should let him fall. So +he rose from the little three-legged stool, and laid the baby in the +cradle, and covered him up--it was well it was a warm night, and he did +not want much covering--and then he all but staggered out of the door, +he was so tipsy himself with sleep. + +“Wife,” said the cabman, turning towards the bed, “I do somehow believe +that wur a angel just gone. Did you see him, wife? He warn't wery big, +and he hadn't got none o' them wingses, you know. It wur one o' them +baby-angels you sees on the gravestones, you know.” + +“Nonsense, hubby!” said his wife; “but it's just as good. I might say +better, for you can ketch hold of him when you like. That's little +Diamond as everybody knows, and a duck o' diamonds he is! No woman could +wish for a better child than he be.” + +“I ha' heerd on him in the stable, but I never see the brat afore. Come, +old girl, let bygones be bygones, and gie us a kiss, and we'll go to +bed.” + +The cabman kept his cab in another yard, although he had his room in +this. He was often late in coming home, and was not one to take notice +of children, especially when he was tipsy, which was oftener than not. +Hence, if he had ever seen Diamond, he did not know him. But his wife +knew him well enough, as did every one else who lived all day in the +yard. She was a good-natured woman. It was she who had got the fire +lighted and the tea ready for them when Diamond and his mother came home +from Sandwich. And her husband was not an ill-natured man either, and +when in the morning he recalled not only Diamond's visit, but how he +himself had behaved to his wife, he was very vexed with himself, and +gladdened his poor wife's heart by telling her how sorry he was. And for +a whole week after, he did not go near the public-house, hard as it was +to avoid it, seeing a certain rich brewer had built one, like a trap to +catch souls and bodies in, at almost every corner he had to pass on his +way home. Indeed, he was never quite so bad after that, though it was +some time before he began really to reform. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. DIAMOND'S FRIENDS + + +ONE day when old Diamond was standing with his nose in his bag between +Pall Mall and Cockspur Street, and his master was reading the newspaper +on the box of his cab, which was the last of a good many in the row, +little Diamond got down for a run, for his legs were getting cramped +with sitting. And first of all he strolled with his hands in his pockets +up to the crossing, where the girl and her broom were to be found in all +weathers. Just as he was going to speak to her, a tall gentleman stepped +upon the crossing. He was pleased to find it so clean, for the streets +were muddy, and he had nice boots on; so he put his hand in his pocket, +and gave the girl a penny. But when she gave him a sweet smile in +return, and made him a pretty courtesy, he looked at her again, and +said: + +“Where do you live, my child?” + +“Paradise Row,” she answered; “next door to the Adam and Eve--down the +area.” + +“Whom do you live with?” he asked. + +“My wicked old grannie,” she replied. + +“You shouldn't call your grannie wicked,” said the gentleman. + +“But she is,” said the girl, looking up confidently in his face. “If you +don't believe me, you can come and take a look at her.” + +The words sounded rude, but the girl's face looked so simple that +the gentleman saw she did not mean to be rude, and became still more +interested in her. + +“Still you shouldn't say so,” he insisted. + +“Shouldn't I? Everybody calls her wicked old grannie--even them that's +as wicked as her. You should hear her swear. There's nothing like it in +the Row. Indeed, I assure you, sir, there's ne'er a one of them can shut +my grannie up once she begins and gets right a-going. You must put her +in a passion first, you know. It's no good till you do that--she's so +old now. How she do make them laugh, to be sure!” + +Although she called her wicked, the child spoke so as plainly to +indicate pride in her grannie's pre-eminence in swearing. + +The gentleman looked very grave to hear her, for he was sorry that such +a nice little girl should be in such bad keeping. But he did not know +what to say next, and stood for a moment with his eyes on the ground. +When he lifted them, he saw the face of Diamond looking up in his. + +“Please, sir,” said Diamond, “her grannie's very cruel to her sometimes, +and shuts her out in the streets at night, if she happens to be late.” + +“Is this your brother?” asked the gentleman of the girl. + +“No, sir.” + +“How does he know your grandmother, then? He does not look like one of +her sort.” + +“Oh no, sir! He's a good boy--quite.” + +Here she tapped her forehead with her finger in a significant manner. + +“What do you mean by that?” asked the gentleman, while Diamond looked on +smiling. + +“The cabbies call him God's baby,” she whispered. “He's not right in the +head, you know. A tile loose.” + +Still Diamond, though he heard every word, and understood it too, kept +on smiling. What could it matter what people called him, so long as he +did nothing he ought not to do? And, besides, God's baby was surely the +best of names! + +“Well, my little man, and what can you do?” asked the gentleman, turning +towards him--just for the sake of saying something. + +“Drive a cab,” said Diamond. + +“Good; and what else?” he continued; for, accepting what the girl had +said, he regarded the still sweetness of Diamond's face as a sign of +silliness, and wished to be kind to the poor little fellow. + +“Nurse a baby,” said Diamond. + +“Well--and what else?” + +“Clean father's boots, and make him a bit of toast for his tea.” + +“You're a useful little man,” said the gentleman. “What else can you +do?” + +“Not much that I know of,” said Diamond. “I can't curry a horse, except +somebody puts me on his back. So I don't count that.” + +“Can you read?” + +“No. But mother can and father can, and they're going to teach me some +day soon.” + +“Well, here's a penny for you.” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +“And when you have learned to read, come to me, and I'll give you +sixpence and a book with fine pictures in it.” + +“Please, sir, where am I to come?” asked Diamond, who was too much a +man of the world not to know that he must have the gentleman's address +before he could go and see him. + +“You're no such silly!” thought he, as he put his hand in his pocket, +and brought out a card. “There,” he said, “your father will be able to +read that, and tell you where to go.” + +“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and put the card in his +pocket. + +The gentleman walked away, but turning round a few paces off, saw +Diamond give his penny to the girl, and, walking slower heard him say: + +“I've got a father, and mother, and little brother, and you've got +nothing but a wicked old grannie. You may have my penny.” + +The girl put it beside the other in her pocket, the only trustworthy +article of dress she wore. Her grandmother always took care that she had +a stout pocket. + +“Is she as cruel as ever?” asked Diamond. + +“Much the same. But I gets more coppers now than I used to, and I can +get summats to eat, and take browns enough home besides to keep her from +grumbling. It's a good thing she's so blind, though.” + +“Why?” asked Diamond. + +“'Cause if she was as sharp in the eyes as she used to be, she would +find out I never eats her broken wittles, and then she'd know as I must +get something somewheres.” + +“Doesn't she watch you, then?” + +“O' course she do. Don't she just! But I make believe and drop it in my +lap, and then hitch it into my pocket.” + +“What would she do if she found you out?” + +“She never give me no more.” + +“But you don't want it!” + +“Yes, I do want it.” + +“What do you do with it, then?” + +“Give it to cripple Jim.” + +“Who's cripple Jim?” + +“A boy in the Row. His mother broke his leg when he wur a kid, so he's +never come to much; but he's a good boy, is Jim, and I love Jim dearly. +I always keeps off a penny for Jim--leastways as often as I can.--But +there I must sweep again, for them busses makes no end o' dirt.” + +“Diamond! Diamond!” cried his father, who was afraid he might get no +good by talking to the girl; and Diamond obeyed, and got up again +upon the box. He told his father about the gentleman, and what he had +promised him if he would learn to read, and showed him the gentleman's +card. + +“Why, it's not many doors from the Mews!” said his father, giving him +back the card. “Take care of it, my boy, for it may lead to something. +God knows, in these hard times a man wants as many friends as he's ever +likely to get.” + +“Haven't you got friends enough, father?” asked Diamond. + +“Well, I have no right to complain; but the more the better, you know.” + +“Just let me count,” said Diamond. + +And he took his hands from his pockets, and spreading out the fingers of +his left hand, began to count, beginning at the thumb. + +“There's mother, first, and then baby, and then me. Next there's old +Diamond--and the cab--no, I won't count the cab, for it never looks at +you, and when Diamond's out of the shafts, it's nobody. Then there's the +man that drinks next door, and his wife, and his baby.” + +“They're no friends of mine,” said his father. + +“Well, they're friends of mine,” said Diamond. + +His father laughed. + +“Much good they'll do you!” he said. + +“How do you know they won't?” returned Diamond. + +“Well, go on,” said his father. + +“Then there's Jack and Mr. Stonecrop, and, deary me! not to have +mentioned Mr. Coleman and Mrs. Coleman, and Miss Coleman, and Mrs. +Crump. And then there's the clergyman that spoke to me in the garden +that day the tree was blown down.” + +“What's his name!” + +“I don't know his name.” + +“Where does he live?” + +“I don't know.” + +“How can you count him, then?” + +“He did talk to me, and very kindlike too.” + +His father laughed again. + +“Why, child, you're just counting everybody you know. That don't make +'em friends.” + +“Don't it? I thought it did. Well, but they shall be my friends. I shall +make 'em.” + +“How will you do that?” + +“They can't help themselves then, if they would. If I choose to be their +friend, you know, they can't prevent me. Then there's that girl at the +crossing.” + +“A fine set of friends you do have, to be sure, Diamond!” + +“Surely she's a friend anyhow, father. If it hadn't been for her, you +would never have got Mrs. Coleman and Miss Coleman to carry home.” + +His father was silent, for he saw that Diamond was right, and was +ashamed to find himself more ungrateful than he had thought. + +“Then there's the new gentleman,” Diamond went on. + +“If he do as he say,” interposed his father. + +“And why shouldn't he? I daresay sixpence ain't too much for him to +spare. But I don't quite understand, father: is nobody your friend but +the one that does something for you?” + +“No, I won't say that, my boy. You would have to leave out baby then.” + +“Oh no, I shouldn't. Baby can laugh in your face, and crow in your ears, +and make you feel so happy. Call you that nothing, father?” + +The father's heart was fairly touched now. He made no answer to this +last appeal, and Diamond ended off with saying: + +“And there's the best of mine to come yet--and that's you, daddy--except +it be mother, you know. You're my friend, daddy, ain't you? And I'm your +friend, ain't I?” + +“And God for us all,” said his father, and then they were both silent +for that was very solemn. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. DIAMOND LEARNS TO READ + + +THE question of the tall gentleman as to whether Diamond could read or +not set his father thinking it was high time he could; and as soon as +old Diamond was suppered and bedded, he began the task that very night. +But it was not much of a task to Diamond, for his father took for his +lesson-book those very rhymes his mother had picked up on the sea-shore; +and as Diamond was not beginning too soon, he learned very fast indeed. +Within a month he was able to spell out most of the verses for himself. + +But he had never come upon the poem he thought he had heard his mother +read from it that day. He had looked through and through the book +several times after he knew the letters and a few words, fancying he +could tell the look of it, but had always failed to find one more like +it than another. So he wisely gave up the search till he could really +read. Then he resolved to begin at the beginning, and read them all +straight through. This took him nearly a fortnight. When he had almost +reached the end, he came upon the following verses, which took his fancy +much, although they were certainly not very like those he was in search +of. + + +LITTLE BOY BLUE + + Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood. + Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey; + He said, “I would not go back if I could, + It's all so jolly and funny.” + + He sang, “This wood is all my own, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + So here I'll sit, like a king on my throne, + All so jolly and funny.” + + A little snake crept out of the tree, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + “Lie down at my feet, little snake,” said he, + All so jolly and funny. + + A little bird sang in the tree overhead, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + “Come and sing your song on my finger instead, + All so jolly and funny.” + + The snake coiled up; and the bird flew down, + And sang him the song of Birdie Brown. + + Little Boy Blue found it tiresome to sit, + And he thought he had better walk on a bit. + + So up he got, his way to take, + And he said, “Come along, little bird and snake.” + + And waves of snake o'er the damp leaves passed, + And the snake went first and Birdie Brown last; + + By Boy Blue's head, with flutter and dart, + Flew Birdie Brown with its song in its heart. + + He came where the apples grew red and sweet: + “Tree, drop me an apple down at my feet.” + + He came where the cherries hung plump and red: + “Come to my mouth, sweet kisses,” he said. + + And the boughs bow down, and the apples they dapple + The grass, too many for him to grapple. + + And the cheeriest cherries, with never a miss, + Fall to his mouth, each a full-grown kiss. + + He met a little brook singing a song. + He said, “Little brook, you are going wrong. + + “You must follow me, follow me, follow, I say + Do as I tell you, and come this way.” + + And the song-singing, sing-songing forest brook + Leaped from its bed and after him took, + + Followed him, followed. And pale and wan, + The dead leaves rustled as the water ran. + + And every bird high up on the bough, + And every creature low down below, + + He called, and the creatures obeyed the call, + Took their legs and their wings and followed him all; + + Squirrels that carried their tails like a sack, + Each on his own little humpy brown back; + + Householder snails, and slugs all tails, + And butterflies, flutterbies, ships all sails; + + And weasels, and ousels, and mice, and larks, + And owls, and rere-mice, and harkydarks, + + All went running, and creeping, and flowing, + After the merry boy fluttering and going; + + The dappled fawns fawning, the fallow-deer following, + The swallows and flies, flying and swallowing; + + Cockchafers, henchafers, cockioli-birds, + Cockroaches, henroaches, cuckoos in herds. + + The spider forgot and followed him spinning, + And lost all his thread from end to beginning. + + The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist, + He never had made such undignified haste. + + The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying. + The mole in his moleskins left his barrowing burrowing. + + The bees went buzzing, so busy and beesy, + And the midges in columns so upright and easy. + + But Little Boy Blue was not content, + Calling for followers still as he went, + + Blowing his horn, and beating his drum, + And crying aloud, “Come all of you, come!” + + He said to the shadows, “Come after me;” + And the shadows began to flicker and flee, + + And they flew through the wood all flattering and fluttering, + Over the dead leaves flickering and muttering. + + And he said to the wind, “Come, follow; come, follow, + With whistle and pipe, and rustle and hollo.” + + And the wind wound round at his desire, + As if he had been the gold cock on the spire. + + And the cock itself flew down from the church, + And left the farmers all in the lurch. + + They run and they fly, they creep and they come, + Everything, everything, all and some. + + The very trees they tugged at their roots, + Only their feet were too fast in their boots, + + After him leaning and straining and bending, + As on through their boles he kept walking and wending, + + Till out of the wood he burst on a lea, + Shouting and calling, “Come after me!” + + And then they rose up with a leafy hiss, + And stood as if nothing had been amiss. + + Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone, + And the creatures came round him every one. + + And he said to the clouds, “I want you there.” + And down they sank through the thin blue air. + + And he said to the sunset far in the West, + “Come here; I want you; I know best.” + + And the sunset came and stood up on the wold, + And burned and glowed in purple and gold. + + Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder: + “What's to be done with them all, I wonder.” + + Then Little Boy Blue, he said, quite low, + “What to do with you all I am sure I don't know.” + + Then the clouds clodded down till dismal it grew; + The snake sneaked close; round Birdie Brown flew; + + The brook sat up like a snake on its tail; + And the wind came up with a what-will-you wail; + + And all the creatures sat and stared; + The mole opened his very eyes and glared; + + And for rats and bats and the world and his wife, + Little Boy Blue was afraid of his life. + + Then Birdie Brown began to sing, + And what he sang was the very thing: + + “You have brought us all hither, Little Boy Blue, + Pray what do you want us all to do?” + + “Go away! go away!” said Little Boy Blue; + “I'm sure I don't want you--get away--do.” + + “No, no; no, no; no, yes, and no, no,” + Sang Birdie Brown, “it mustn't be so. + + “We cannot for nothing come here, and away. + Give us some work, or else we stay.” + + “Oh dear! and oh dear!” with sob and with sigh, + Said Little Boy Blue, and began to cry. + + But before he got far, he thought of a thing; + And up he stood, and spoke like a king. + + “Why do you hustle and jostle and bother? + Off with you all! Take me back to my mother.” + + The sunset stood at the gates of the west. + “Follow me, follow me” came from Birdie Brown's breast. + + “I am going that way as fast as I can,” + Said the brook, as it sank and turned and ran. + + Back to the woods fled the shadows like ghosts: + “If we stay, we shall all be missed from our posts.” + + Said the wind with a voice that had changed its cheer, + “I was just going there, when you brought me here.” + + “That's where I live,” said the sack-backed squirrel, + And he turned his sack with a swing and a swirl. + + Said the cock of the spire, “His father's churchwarden.” + Said the brook running faster, “I run through his garden.” + + Said the mole, “Two hundred worms--there I caught 'em + Last year, and I'm going again next autumn.” + + Said they all, “If that's where you want us to steer for, + What in earth or in water did you bring us here for?” + + “Never you mind,” said Little Boy Blue; + “That's what I tell you. If that you won't do, + + “I'll get up at once, and go home without you. + I think I will; I begin to doubt you.” + + He rose; and up rose the snake on its tail, + And hissed three times, half a hiss, half a wail. + + Little Boy Blue he tried to go past him; + But wherever he turned, sat the snake and faced him. + + “If you don't get out of my way,” he said, + “I tell you, snake, I will break your head.” + + The snake he neither would go nor come; + So he hit him hard with the stick of his drum. + + The snake fell down as if he were dead, + And Little Boy Blue set his foot on his head. + + And all the creatures they marched before him, + And marshalled him home with a high cockolorum. + + And Birdie Brown sang Twirrrr twitter twirrrr twee-- + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + Little Boy Blue has listened to me-- + All so jolly and funny. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. SAL'S NANNY + + +DIAMOND managed with many blunders to read this rhyme to his mother. + +“Isn't it nice, mother?” he said. + +“Yes, it's pretty,” she answered. + +“I think it means something,” returned Diamond. + +“I'm sure I don't know what,” she said. + +“I wonder if it's the same boy--yes, it must be the same--Little Boy +Blue, you know. Let me see--how does that rhyme go? + +Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn-- + +Yes, of course it is--for this one went `blowing his horn and beating +his drum.' He had a drum too. + + Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn; + The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn, + +He had to keep them out, you know. But he wasn't minding his work. It +goes-- + + Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? + He's under the haystack, fast asleep. + +There, you see, mother! And then, let me see-- + + Who'll go and wake him? No, not I; + For if I do, he'll be sure to cry. + +So I suppose nobody did wake him. He was a rather cross little boy, +I daresay, when woke up. And when he did wake of himself, and saw the +mischief the cow had done to the corn, instead of running home to his +mother, he ran away into the wood and lost himself. Don't you think +that's very likely, mother?” + +“I shouldn't wonder,” she answered. + +“So you see he was naughty; for even when he lost himself he did not +want to go home. Any of the creatures would have shown him the way if he +had asked it--all but the snake. He followed the snake, you know, and he +took him farther away. I suppose it was a young one of the same serpent +that tempted Adam and Eve. Father was telling us about it last Sunday, +you remember.” + +“Bless the child!” said his mother to herself; and then added aloud, +finding that Diamond did not go on, “Well, what next?” + +“I don't know, mother. I'm sure there's a great deal more, but what it +is I can't say. I only know that he killed the snake. I suppose that's +what he had a drumstick for. He couldn't do it with his horn.” + +“But surely you're not such a silly as to take it all for true, +Diamond?” + +“I think it must be. It looks true. That killing of the snake looks +true. It's what I've got to do so often.” + +His mother looked uneasy. Diamond smiled full in her face, and added-- + +“When baby cries and won't be happy, and when father and you talk about +your troubles, I mean.” + +This did little to reassure his mother; and lest my reader should have +his qualms about it too, I venture to remind him once more that Diamond +had been to the back of the north wind. + +Finding she made no reply, Diamond went on-- + +“In a week or so, I shall be able to go to the tall gentleman and tell +him I can read. And I'll ask him if he can help me to understand the +rhyme.” + +But before the week was out, he had another reason for going to Mr. +Raymond. + +For three days, on each of which, at one time or other, Diamond's father +was on the same stand near the National Gallery, the girl was not at her +crossing, and Diamond got quite anxious about her, fearing she must be +ill. On the fourth day, not seeing her yet, he said to his father, who +had that moment shut the door of his cab upon a fare-- + +“Father, I want to go and look after the girl, She can't be well.” + +“All right,” said his father. “Only take care of yourself, Diamond.” + +So saying he climbed on his box and drove off. + +He had great confidence in his boy, you see, and would trust him +anywhere. But if he had known the kind of place in which the girl lived, +he would perhaps have thought twice before he allowed him to go alone. +Diamond, who did know something of it, had not, however, any fear. From +talking to the girl he had a good notion of where about it was, and he +remembered the address well enough; so by asking his way some twenty +times, mostly of policemen, he came at length pretty near the place. The +last policeman he questioned looked down upon him from the summit of six +feet two inches, and replied with another question, but kindly: + +“What do you want there, my small kid? It ain't where you was bred, I +guess.” + +“No sir” answered Diamond. “I live in Bloomsbury.” + +“That's a long way off,” said the policeman. + +“Yes, it's a good distance,” answered Diamond; “but I find my way about +pretty well. Policemen are always kind to me.” + +“But what on earth do you want here?” + +Diamond told him plainly what he was about, and of course the man +believed him, for nobody ever disbelieved Diamond. People might think he +was mistaken, but they never thought he was telling a story. + +“It's an ugly place,” said the policeman. + +“Is it far off?” asked Diamond. + +“No. It's next door almost. But it's not safe.” + +“Nobody hurts me,” said Diamond. + +“I must go with you, I suppose.” + +“Oh, no! please not,” said Diamond. “They might think I was going to +meddle with them, and I ain't, you know.” + +“Well, do as you please,” said the man, and gave him full directions. + +Diamond set off, never suspecting that the policeman, who was a +kind-hearted man, with children of his own, was following him close, and +watching him round every corner. As he went on, all at once he thought +he remembered the place, and whether it really was so, or only that +he had laid up the policeman's instructions well in his mind, he went +straight for the cellar of old Sal. + +“He's a sharp little kid, anyhow, for as simple as he looks,” said the +man to himself. “Not a wrong turn does he take! But old Sal's a rum un +for such a child to pay a morning visit to. She's worse when she's sober +than when she's half drunk. I've seen her when she'd have torn him in +pieces.” + +Happily then for Diamond, old Sal had gone out to get some gin. When +he came to her door at the bottom of the area-stair and knocked, he +received no answer. He laid his ear to the door, and thought he heard +a moaning within. So he tried the door, and found it was not locked! It +was a dreary place indeed,--and very dark, for the window was below the +level of the street, and covered with mud, while over the grating which +kept people from falling into the area, stood a chest of drawers, placed +there by a dealer in second-hand furniture, which shut out almost all +the light. And the smell in the place was dreadful. Diamond stood still +for a while, for he could see next to nothing, but he heard the moaning +plainly enough now, When he got used to the darkness, he discovered his +friend lying with closed eyes and a white suffering face on a heap of +little better than rags in a corner of the den. He went up to her and +spoke; but she made him no answer. Indeed, she was not in the least +aware of his presence, and Diamond saw that he could do nothing for her +without help. So taking a lump of barley-sugar from his pocket, which he +had bought for her as he came along, and laying it beside her, he +left the place, having already made up his mind to go and see the tall +gentleman, Mr. Raymond, and ask him to do something for Sal's Nanny, as +the girl was called. + +By the time he got up the area-steps, three or four women who had seen +him go down were standing together at the top waiting for him. They +wanted his clothes for their children; but they did not follow him down +lest Sal should find them there. The moment he appeared, they laid their +hands on him, and all began talking at once, for each wanted to get some +advantage over her neighbours. He told them quite quietly, for he was +not frightened, that he had come to see what was the matter with Nanny. + +“What do you know about Nanny?” said one of them fiercely. “Wait till +old Sal comes home, and you'll catch it, for going prying into her house +when she's out. If you don't give me your jacket directly, I'll go and +fetch her.” + +“I can't give you my jacket,” said Diamond. “It belongs to my father and +mother, you know. It's not mine to give. Is it now? You would not think +it right to give away what wasn't yours--would you now?” + +“Give it away! No, that I wouldn't; I'd keep it,” she said, with a rough +laugh. “But if the jacket ain't yours, what right have you to keep it? +Here, Cherry, make haste. It'll be one go apiece.” + +They all began to tug at the jacket, while Diamond stooped and kept his +arms bent to resist them. Before they had done him or the jacket any +harm, however, suddenly they all scampered away; and Diamond, looking in +the opposite direction, saw the tall policeman coming towards him. + +“You had better have let me come with you, little man,” he said, looking +down in Diamond's face, which was flushed with his resistance. + +“You came just in the right time, thank you,” returned Diamond. “They've +done me no harm.” + +“They would have if I hadn't been at hand, though.” + +“Yes; but you were at hand, you know, so they couldn't.” + +Perhaps the answer was deeper in purport than either Diamond or the +policeman knew. They walked away together, Diamond telling his new +friend how ill poor Nanny was, and that he was going to let the tall +gentleman know. The policeman put him in the nearest way for Bloomsbury, +and stepping out in good earnest, Diamond reached Mr. Raymond's door +in less than an hour. When he asked if he was at home, the servant, in +return, asked what he wanted. + +“I want to tell him something.” + +“But I can't go and trouble him with such a message as that.” + +“He told me to come to him--that is, when I could read--and I can.” + +“How am I to know that?” + +Diamond stared with astonishment for one moment, then answered: + +“Why, I've just told you. That's how you know it.” + +But this man was made of coarser grain than the policeman, and, instead +of seeing that Diamond could not tell a lie, he put his answer down as +impudence, and saying, “Do you think I'm going to take your word for +it?” shut the door in his face. + +Diamond turned and sat down on the doorstep, thinking with himself that +the tall gentleman must either come in or come out, and he was therefore +in the best possible position for finding him. He had not waited long +before the door opened again; but when he looked round, it was only the +servant once more. + +“Get, away” he said. “What are you doing on the doorstep?” + +“Waiting for Mr. Raymond,” answered Diamond, getting up. + +“He's not at home.” + +“Then I'll wait till he comes,” returned Diamond, sitting down again +with a smile. + +What the man would have done next I do not know, but a step sounded from +the hall, and when Diamond looked round yet again, there was the tall +gentleman. + +“Who's this, John?” he asked. + +“I don't know, sir. An imperent little boy as will sit on the doorstep.” + +“Please sir” said Diamond, “he told me you weren't at home, and I sat +down to wait for you.” + +“Eh, what!” said Mr. Raymond. “John! John! This won't do. Is it a habit +of yours to turn away my visitors? There'll be some one else to turn +away, I'm afraid, if I find any more of this kind of thing. Come in, my +little man. I suppose you've come to claim your sixpence?” + +“No, sir, not that.” + +“What! can't you read yet?” + +“Yes, I can now, a little. But I'll come for that next time. I came to +tell you about Sal's Nanny.” + +“Who's Sal's Nanny?” + +“The girl at the crossing you talked to the same day.” + +“Oh, yes; I remember. What's the matter? Has she got run over?” + +Then Diamond told him all. + +Now Mr. Raymond was one of the kindest men in London. He sent at once to +have the horse put to the brougham, took Diamond with him, and drove to +the Children's Hospital. There he was well known to everybody, for he +was not only a large subscriber, but he used to go and tell the children +stories of an afternoon. One of the doctors promised to go and find +Nanny, and do what could be done--have her brought to the hospital, if +possible. + +That same night they sent a litter for her, and as she could be of no +use to old Sal until she was better, she did not object to having her +removed. So she was soon lying in the fever ward--for the first time in +her life in a nice clean bed. But she knew nothing of the whole affair. +She was too ill to know anything. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. MR. RAYMOND'S RIDDLE + + +MR. RAYMOND took Diamond home with him, stopping at the Mews to tell his +mother that he would send him back soon. Diamond ran in with the message +himself, and when he reappeared he had in his hand the torn and crumpled +book which North Wind had given him. + +“Ah! I see,” said Mr. Raymond: “you are going to claim your sixpence +now.” + +“I wasn't thinking of that so much as of another thing,” said Diamond. +“There's a rhyme in this book I can't quite understand. I want you to +tell me what it means, if you please.” + +“I will if I can,” answered Mr. Raymond. “You shall read it to me when +we get home, and then I shall see.” + +Still with a good many blunders, Diamond did read it after a fashion. +Mr. Raymond took the little book and read it over again. + +Now Mr. Raymond was a poet himself, and so, although he had never been +at the back of the north wind, he was able to understand the poem pretty +well. But before saying anything about it, he read it over aloud, and +Diamond thought he understood it much better already. + +“I'll tell you what I think it means,” he then said. “It means that +people may have their way for a while, if they like, but it will get +them into such troubles they'll wish they hadn't had it.” + +“I know, I know!” said Diamond. “Like the poor cabman next door. He +drinks too much.” + +“Just so,” returned Mr. Raymond. “But when people want to do right, +things about them will try to help them. Only they must kill the snake, +you know.” + +“I was sure the snake had something to do with it,” cried Diamond +triumphantly. + +A good deal more talk followed, and Mr. Raymond gave Diamond his +sixpence. + +“What will you do with it?” he asked. + +“Take it home to my mother,” he answered. “She has a teapot--such a +black one!--with a broken spout, and she keeps all her money in it. It +ain't much; but she saves it up to buy shoes for me. And there's baby +coming on famously, and he'll want shoes soon. And every sixpence is +something--ain't it, sir?” + +“To be sure, my man. I hope you'll always make as good a use of your +money.” + +“I hope so, sir,” said Diamond. + +“And here's a book for you, full of pictures and stories and poems. I +wrote it myself, chiefly for the children of the hospital where I hope +Nanny is going. I don't mean I printed it, you know. I made it,” added +Mr. Raymond, wishing Diamond to understand that he was the author of the +book. + +“I know what you mean. I make songs myself. They're awfully silly, but +they please baby, and that's all they're meant for.” + +“Couldn't you let me hear one of them now?” said Mr. Raymond. + +“No, sir, I couldn't. I forget them as soon as I've done with them. +Besides, I couldn't make a line without baby on my knee. We make them +together, you know. They're just as much baby's as mine. It's he that +pulls them out of me.” + +“I suspect the child's a genius,” said the poet to himself, “and that's +what makes people think him silly.” + +Now if any of my child readers want to know what a genius is--shall +I try to tell them, or shall I not? I will give them one very short +answer: it means one who understands things without any other body +telling him what they mean. God makes a few such now and then to teach +the rest of us. + +“Do you like riddles?” asked Mr. Raymond, turning over the leaves of his +own book. + +“I don't know what a riddle is,” said Diamond. + +“It's something that means something else, and you've got to find out +what the something else is.” + +Mr. Raymond liked the old-fashioned riddle best, and had written a +few--one of which he now read. + + I have only one foot, but thousands of toes; + My one foot stands, but never goes. + I have many arms, and they're mighty all; + And hundreds of fingers, large and small. + From the ends of my fingers my beauty grows. + I breathe with my hair, and I drink with my toes. + I grow bigger and bigger about the waist, + And yet I am always very tight laced. + None e'er saw me eat--I've no mouth to bite; + Yet I eat all day in the full sunlight. + In the summer with song I shave and quiver, + But in winter I fast and groan and shiver. + + +“Do you know what that means, Diamond?” he asked, when he had finished. + +“No, indeed, I don't,” answered Diamond. + +“Then you can read it for yourself, and think over it, and see if you +can find out,” said Mr. Raymond, giving him the book. “And now you had +better go home to your mother. When you've found the riddle, you can +come again.” + +If Diamond had had to find out the riddle in order to see Mr. Raymond +again, I doubt if he would ever have seen him. + +“Oh then,” I think I hear some little reader say, “he could not have +been a genius, for a genius finds out things without being told.” + +I answer, “Genius finds out truths, not tricks.” And if you do not +understand that, I am afraid you must be content to wait till you grow +older and know more. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. THE EARLY BIRD + + +WHEN Diamond got home he found his father at home already, sitting by +the fire and looking rather miserable, for his head ached and he felt +sick. He had been doing night work of late, and it had not agreed with +him, so he had given it up, but not in time, for he had taken some +kind of fever. The next day he was forced to keep his bed, and his wife +nursed him, and Diamond attended to the baby. If he had not been ill, +it would have been delightful to have him at home; and the first day +Diamond sang more songs than ever to the baby, and his father listened +with some pleasure. But the next he could not bear even Diamond's sweet +voice, and was very ill indeed; so Diamond took the baby into his own +room, and had no end of quiet games with him there. If he did pull +all his bedding on the floor, it did not matter, for he kept baby very +quiet, and made the bed himself again, and slept in it with baby all the +next night, and many nights after. + +But long before his father got well, his mother's savings were all but +gone. She did not say a word about it in the hearing of her husband, +lest she should distress him; and one night, when she could not help +crying, she came into Diamond's room that his father might not hear +her. She thought Diamond was asleep, but he was not. When he heard her +sobbing, he was frightened, and said-- + +“Is father worse, mother?” + +“No, Diamond,” she answered, as well as she could; “he's a good bit +better.” + +“Then what are you crying for, mother?” + +“Because my money is almost all gone,” she replied. + +“O mammy, you make me think of a little poem baby and I learned out of +North Wind's book to-day. Don't you remember how I bothered you about +some of the words?” + +“Yes, child,” said his mother heedlessly, thinking only of what she +should do after to-morrow. + +Diamond began and repeated the poem, for he had a wonderful memory. + + A little bird sat on the edge of her nest; + Her yellow-beaks slept as sound as tops; + That day she had done her very best, + And had filled every one of their little crops. + She had filled her own just over-full, + And hence she was feeling a little dull. + + “Oh, dear!” she sighed, as she sat with her head + Sunk in her chest, and no neck at all, + While her crop stuck out like a feather bed + Turned inside out, and rather small; + “What shall I do if things don't reform? + I don't know where there's a single worm. + + “I've had twenty to-day, and the children five each, + Besides a few flies, and some very fat spiders: + No one will say I don't do as I preach-- + I'm one of the best of bird-providers; + But where's the use? We want a storm-- + I don't know where there's a single worm.” + + “There's five in my crop,” said a wee, wee bird, + Which woke at the voice of his mother's pain; + “I know where there's five.” And with the word + He tucked in his head, and went off again. + “The folly of childhood,” sighed his mother, + “Has always been my especial bother.” + + The yellow-beaks they slept on and on-- + They never had heard of the bogy To-morrow; + But the mother sat outside, making her moan-- + She'll soon have to beg, or steal, or borrow. + For she never can tell the night before, + Where she shall find one red worm more. + + The fact, as I say, was, she'd had too many; + She couldn't sleep, and she called it virtue, + Motherly foresight, affection, any + Name you may call it that will not hurt you, + So it was late ere she tucked her head in, + And she slept so late it was almost a sin. + + But the little fellow who knew of five + Nor troubled his head about any more, + Woke very early, felt quite alive, + And wanted a sixth to add to his store: + He pushed his mother, the greedy elf, + Then thought he had better try for himself. + + When his mother awoke and had rubbed her eyes, + Feeling less like a bird, and more like a mole, + She saw him--fancy with what surprise-- + Dragging a huge worm out of a hole! + 'Twas of this same hero the proverb took form: + 'Tis the early bird that catches the worm. + + +“There, mother!” said Diamond, as he finished; “ain't it funny?” + +“I wish you were like that little bird, Diamond, and could catch worms +for yourself,” said his mother, as she rose to go and look after her +husband. + +Diamond lay awake for a few minutes, thinking what he could do to catch +worms. It was very little trouble to make up his mind, however, and +still less to go to sleep after it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. ANOTHER EARLY BIRD + + +HE GOT up in the morning as soon as he heard the men moving in the yard. +He tucked in his little brother so that he could not tumble out of bed, +and then went out, leaving the door open, so that if he should cry his +mother might hear him at once. When he got into the yard he found the +stable-door just opened. + +“I'm the early bird, I think,” he said to himself. “I hope I shall catch +the worm.” + +He would not ask any one to help him, fearing his project might meet +with disapproval and opposition. With great difficulty, but with the +help of a broken chair he brought down from his bedroom, he managed to +put the harness on Diamond. If the old horse had had the least objection +to the proceeding, of course he could not have done it; but even when it +came to the bridle, he opened his mouth for the bit, just as if he had +been taking the apple which Diamond sometimes gave him. He fastened the +cheek-strap very carefully, just in the usual hole, for fear of choking +his friend, or else letting the bit get amongst his teeth. It was a job +to get the saddle on; but with the chair he managed it. If old Diamond +had had an education in physics to equal that of the camel, he would +have knelt down to let him put it on his back, but that was more than +could be expected of him, and then Diamond had to creep quite under him +to get hold of the girth. The collar was almost the worst part of the +business; but there Diamond could help Diamond. He held his head very +low till his little master had got it over and turned it round, and +then he lifted his head, and shook it on to his shoulders. The yoke was +rather difficult; but when he had laid the traces over the horse's neck, +the weight was not too much for him. He got him right at last, and led +him out of the stable. + +By this time there were several of the men watching him, but they would +not interfere, they were so anxious to see how he would get over the +various difficulties. They followed him as far as the stable-door, and +there stood watching him again as he put the horse between the shafts, +got them up one after the other into the loops, fastened the traces, the +belly-band, the breeching, and the reins. + +Then he got his whip. The moment he mounted the box, the men broke into +a hearty cheer of delight at his success. But they would not let him go +without a general inspection of the harness; and although they found it +right, for not a buckle had to be shifted, they never allowed him to do +it for himself again all the time his father was ill. + +The cheer brought his mother to the window, and there she saw her little +boy setting out alone with the cab in the gray of morning. She tugged at +the window, but it was stiff; and before she could open it, Diamond, who +was in a great hurry, was out of the mews, and almost out of the street. +She called “Diamond! Diamond!” but there was no answer except from Jack. + +“Never fear for him, ma'am,” said Jack. “It 'ud be only a devil as would +hurt him, and there ain't so many o' them as some folk 'ud have you +believe. A boy o' Diamond's size as can 'arness a 'oss t'other Diamond's +size, and put him to, right as a trivet--if he do upset the keb--'ll +fall on his feet, ma'am.” + +“But he won't upset the cab, will he, Jack?” + +“Not he, ma'am. Leastways he won't go for to do it.” + +“I know as much as that myself. What do you mean?” + +“I mean he's a little likely to do it as the oldest man in the stable. +How's the gov'nor to-day, ma'am?” + +“A good deal better, thank you,” she answered, closing the window in +some fear lest her husband should have been made anxious by the news +of Diamond's expedition. He knew pretty well, however, what his boy +was capable of, and although not quite easy was less anxious than +his mother. But as the evening drew on, the anxiety of both of them +increased, and every sound of wheels made his father raise himself in +his bed, and his mother peep out of the window. + +Diamond had resolved to go straight to the cab-stand where he was best +known, and never to crawl for fear of getting annoyed by idlers. Before +he got across Oxford Street, however, he was hailed by a man who wanted +to catch a train, and was in too great a hurry to think about the +driver. Having carried him to King's Cross in good time, and got a good +fare in return, he set off again in great spirits, and reached the stand +in safety. He was the first there after all. + +As the men arrived they all greeted him kindly, and inquired after his +father. + +“Ain't you afraid of the old 'oss running away with you?” asked one. + +“No, he wouldn't run away with me,” answered Diamond. “He knows I'm +getting the shillings for father. Or if he did he would only run home.” + +“Well, you're a plucky one, for all your girl's looks!” said the man; +“and I wish ye luck.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Diamond. “I'll do what I can. I came to the old +place, you see, because I knew you would let me have my turn here.” + +In the course of the day one man did try to cut him out, but he was a +stranger; and the shout the rest of them raised let him see it would not +do, and made him so far ashamed besides, that he went away crawling. + +Once, in a block, a policeman came up to him, and asked him for his +number. Diamond showed him his father's badge, saying with a smile: + +“Father's ill at home, and so I came out with the cab. There's no fear +of me. I can drive. Besides, the old horse could go alone.” + +“Just as well, I daresay. You're a pair of 'em. But you are a rum 'un +for a cabby--ain't you now?” said the policeman. “I don't know as I +ought to let you go.” + +“I ain't done nothing,” said Diamond. “It's not my fault I'm no bigger. +I'm big enough for my age.” + +“That's where it is,” said the man. “You ain't fit.” + +“How do you know that?” asked Diamond, with his usual smile, and turning +his head like a little bird. + +“Why, how are you to get out of this ruck now, when it begins to move?” + +“Just you get up on the box,” said Diamond, “and I'll show you. There, +that van's a-moving now. Jump up.” + +The policeman did as Diamond told him, and was soon satisfied that the +little fellow could drive. + +“Well,” he said, as he got down again, “I don't know as I should be +right to interfere. Good luck to you, my little man!” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and drove away. + +In a few minutes a gentleman hailed him. + +“Are you the driver of this cab?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir” said Diamond, showing his badge, of which, he was proud. + +“You're the youngest cabman I ever saw. How am I to know you won't break +all my bones?” + +“I would rather break all my own,” said Diamond. “But if you're afraid, +never mind me; I shall soon get another fare.” + +“I'll risk it,” said the gentleman; and, opening the door himself, he +jumped in. + +He was going a good distance, and soon found that Diamond got him over +the ground well. Now when Diamond had only to go straight ahead, and had +not to mind so much what he was about, his thoughts always turned to the +riddle Mr. Raymond had set him; and this gentleman looked so clever that +he fancied he must be able to read it for him. He had given up all hope +of finding it out for himself, and he could not plague his father about +it when he was ill. He had thought of the answer himself, but fancied it +could not be the right one, for to see how it all fitted required some +knowledge of physiology. So, when he reached the end of his journey, he +got down very quickly, and with his head just looking in at the window, +said, as the gentleman gathered his gloves and newspapers: + +“Please, sir, can you tell me the meaning of a riddle?” + +“You must tell me the riddle first,” answered the gentleman, amused. + +Diamond repeated the riddle. + +“Oh! that's easy enough,” he returned. “It's a tree.” + +“Well, it ain't got no mouth, sure enough; but how then does it eat all +day long?” + +“It sucks in its food through the tiniest holes in its leaves,” he +answered. “Its breath is its food. And it can't do it except in the +daylight.” + +“Thank you, sir, thank you,” returned Diamond. “I'm sorry I couldn't +find it out myself; Mr. Raymond would have been better pleased with me.” + +“But you needn't tell him any one told you.” + +Diamond gave him a stare which came from the very back of the north +wind, where that kind of thing is unknown. + +“That would be cheating,” he said at last. + +“Ain't you a cabby, then?” + +“Cabbies don't cheat.” + +“Don't they? I am of a different opinion.” + +“I'm sure my father don't.” + +“What's your fare, young innocent?” + +“Well, I think the distance is a good deal over three miles--that's two +shillings. Only father says sixpence a mile is too little, though we +can't ask for more.” + +“You're a deep one. But I think you're wrong. It's over four miles--not +much, but it is.” + +“Then that's half-a-crown,” said Diamond. + +“Well, here's three shillings. Will that do?” + +“Thank you kindly, sir. I'll tell my father how good you were to +me--first to tell me my riddle, then to put me right about the distance, +and then to give me sixpence over. It'll help father to get well again, +it will.” + +“I hope it may, my man. I shouldn't wonder if you're as good as you +look, after all.” + +As Diamond returned, he drew up at a stand he had never been on before: +it was time to give Diamond his bag of chopped beans and oats. The men +got about him, and began to chaff him. He took it all good-humouredly, +until one of them, who was an ill-conditioned fellow, began to tease old +Diamond by poking him roughly in the ribs, and making general game of +him. That he could not bear, and the tears came in his eyes. He undid +the nose-bag, put it in the boot, and was just going to mount and drive +away, when the fellow interfered, and would not let him get up. Diamond +endeavoured to persuade him, and was very civil, but he would have his +fun out of him, as he said. In a few minutes a group of idle boys had +assembled, and Diamond found himself in a very uncomfortable position. +Another cab drew up at the stand, and the driver got off and approached +the assemblage. + +“What's up here?” he asked, and Diamond knew the voice. It was that of +the drunken cabman. + +“Do you see this young oyster? He pretends to drive a cab,” said his +enemy. + +“Yes, I do see him. And I sees you too. You'd better leave him alone. He +ain't no oyster. He's a angel come down on his own business. You be off, +or I'll be nearer you than quite agreeable.” + +The drunken cabman was a tall, stout man, who did not look one to take +liberties with. + +“Oh! if he's a friend of yours,” said the other, drawing back. + +Diamond got out the nose-bag again. Old Diamond should have his feed out +now. + +“Yes, he is a friend o' mine. One o' the best I ever had. It's a pity +he ain't a friend o' yourn. You'd be the better for it, but it ain't no +fault of hisn.” + +When Diamond went home at night, he carried with him one pound one +shilling and sixpence, besides a few coppers extra, which had followed +some of the fares. + +His mother had got very anxious indeed--so much so that she was almost +afraid, when she did hear the sound of his cab, to go and look, lest +she should be yet again disappointed, and should break down before her +husband. But there was the old horse, and there was the cab all right, +and there was Diamond in the box, his pale face looking triumphant as a +full moon in the twilight. + +When he drew up at the stable-door, Jack came out, and after a good many +friendly questions and congratulations, said: + +“You go in to your mother, Diamond. I'll put up the old 'oss. I'll take +care on him. He do deserve some small attention, he do.” + +“Thank you, Jack,” said Diamond, and bounded into the house, and into +the arms of his mother, who was waiting him at the top of the stair. + +The poor, anxious woman led him into his own room, sat down on his bed, +took him on her lap as if he had been a baby, and cried. + +“How's father?” asked Diamond, almost afraid to ask. + +“Better, my child,” she answered, “but uneasy about you, my dear.” + +“Didn't you tell him I was the early bird gone out to catch the worm?” + +“That was what put it in your head, was it, you monkey?” said his +mother, beginning to get better. + +“That or something else,” answered Diamond, so very quietly that his +mother held his head back and stared in his face. + +“Well! of all the children!” she said, and said no more. + +“And here's my worm,” resumed Diamond. + +But to see her face as he poured the shillings and sixpences and pence +into her lap! She burst out crying a second time, and ran with the money +to her husband. + +And how pleased he was! It did him no end of good. But while he was +counting the coins, Diamond turned to baby, who was lying awake in his +cradle, sucking his precious thumb, and took him up, saying: + +“Baby, baby! I haven't seen you for a whole year.” + +And then he began to sing to him as usual. And what he sang was this, +for he was too happy either to make a song of his own or to sing sense. +It was one out of Mr. Raymond's book. + + +THE TRUE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE + + Hey, diddle, diddle! + The cat and the fiddle! + He played such a merry tune, + That the cow went mad + With the pleasure she had, + And jumped right over the moon. + But then, don't you see? + Before that could be, + The moon had come down and listened. + The little dog hearkened, + So loud that he barkened, + “There's nothing like it, there isn't.” + + Hey, diddle, diddle! + Went the cat and the fiddle, + Hey diddle, diddle, dee, dee! + The dog laughed at the sport + Till his cough cut him short, + It was hey diddle, diddle, oh me! + And back came the cow + With a merry, merry low, + For she'd humbled the man in the moon. + The dish got excited, + The spoon was delighted, + And the dish waltzed away with the spoon. + + But the man in the moon, + Coming back too soon + From the famous town of Norwich, + Caught up the dish, + Said, “It's just what I wish + To hold my cold plum-porridge!” + Gave the cow a rat-tat, + Flung water on the cat, + And sent him away like a rocket. + Said, “O Moon there you are!” + Got into her car, + And went off with the spoon in his pocket + + Hey ho! diddle, diddle! + The wet cat and wet fiddle, + They made such a caterwauling, + That the cow in a fright + Stood bolt upright + Bellowing now, and bawling; + And the dog on his tail, + Stretched his neck with a wail. + But “Ho! ho!” said the man in the moon-- + “No more in the South + Shall I burn my mouth, + For I've found a dish and a spoon.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. DIAMOND'S DREAM + + +“THERE, baby!” said Diamond; “I'm so happy that I can only sing +nonsense. Oh, father, think if you had been a poor man, and hadn't had a +cab and old Diamond! What should I have done?” + +“I don't know indeed what you could have done,” said his father from the +bed. + +“We should have all starved, my precious Diamond,” said his mother, +whose pride in her boy was even greater than her joy in the shillings. +Both of them together made her heart ache, for pleasure can do that as +well as pain. + +“Oh no! we shouldn't,” said Diamond. “I could have taken Nanny's +crossing till she came back; and then the money, instead of going for +Old Sal's gin, would have gone for father's beef-tea. I wonder what +Nanny will do when she gets well again. Somebody else will be sure to +have taken the crossing by that time. I wonder if she will fight for it, +and whether I shall have to help her. I won't bother my head about that. +Time enough yet! Hey diddle! hey diddle! hey diddle diddle! I wonder +whether Mr. Raymond would take me to see Nanny. Hey diddle! hey diddle! +hey diddle diddle! The baby and fiddle! O, mother, I'm such a silly! +But I can't help it. I wish I could think of something else, but there's +nothing will come into my head but hey diddle diddle! the cat and the +fiddle! I wonder what the angels do--when they're extra happy, you +know--when they've been driving cabs all day and taking home the money +to their mothers. Do you think they ever sing nonsense, mother?” + +“I daresay they've got their own sort of it,” answered his mother, +“else they wouldn't be like other people.” She was thinking more of her +twenty-one shillings and sixpence, and of the nice dinner she would get +for her sick husband next day, than of the angels and their nonsense, +when she said it. But Diamond found her answer all right. + +“Yes, to be sure,” he replied. “They wouldn't be like other people +if they hadn't their nonsense sometimes. But it must be very pretty +nonsense, and not like that silly hey diddle diddle! the cat and the +fiddle! I wish I could get it out of my head. I wonder what the angels' +nonsense is like. Nonsense is a very good thing, ain't it, mother?--a +little of it now and then; more of it for baby, and not so much for +grown people like cabmen and their mothers? It's like the pepper and +salt that goes in the soup--that's it--isn't it, mother? There's baby +fast asleep! Oh, what a nonsense baby it is--to sleep so much! Shall I +put him down, mother?” + +Diamond chattered away. What rose in his happy little heart ran out +of his mouth, and did his father and mother good. When he went to bed, +which he did early, being more tired, as you may suppose, than usual, he +was still thinking what the nonsense could be like which the angels +sang when they were too happy to sing sense. But before coming to +any conclusion he fell fast asleep. And no wonder, for it must be +acknowledged a difficult question. + +That night he had a very curious dream which I think my readers would +like to have told them. They would, at least, if they are as fond of +nice dreams as I am, and don't have enough of them of their own. + +He dreamed that he was running about in the twilight in the old garden. +He thought he was waiting for North Wind, but she did not come. So he +would run down to the back gate, and see if she were there. He ran and +ran. It was a good long garden out of his dream, but in his dream it +had grown so long and spread out so wide that the gate he wanted was +nowhere. He ran and ran, but instead of coming to the gate found himself +in a beautiful country, not like any country he had ever been in before. +There were no trees of any size; nothing bigger in fact than hawthorns, +which were full of may-blossom. The place in which they grew was wild +and dry, mostly covered with grass, but having patches of heath. It +extended on every side as far as he could see. But although it was so +wild, yet wherever in an ordinary heath you might have expected furze +bushes, or holly, or broom, there grew roses--wild and rare--all kinds. +On every side, far and near, roses were glowing. There too was the +gum-cistus, whose flowers fall every night and come again the next +morning, lilacs and syringas and laburnums, and many shrubs besides, +of which he did not know the names; but the roses were everywhere. He +wandered on and on, wondering when it would come to an end. It was of no +use going back, for there was no house to be seen anywhere. But he was +not frightened, for you know Diamond was used to things that were +rather out of the way. He threw himself down under a rose-bush, and fell +asleep. + +He woke, not out of his dream, but into it, thinking he heard a child's +voice, calling “Diamond, Diamond!” He jumped up, but all was still about +him. The rose-bushes were pouring out their odours in clouds. He could +see the scent like mists of the same colour as the rose, issuing like +a slow fountain and spreading in the air till it joined the thin rosy +vapour which hung over all the wilderness. But again came the voice +calling him, and it seemed to come from over his head. He looked up, but +saw only the deep blue sky full of stars--more brilliant, however, than +he had seen them before; and both sky and stars looked nearer to the +earth. + +While he gazed up, again he heard the cry. At the same moment he saw one +of the biggest stars over his head give a kind of twinkle and jump, +as if it went out and came in again. He threw himself on his back, +and fixed his eyes upon it. Nor had he gazed long before it went out, +leaving something like a scar in the blue. But as he went on gazing he +saw a face where the star had been--a merry face, with bright eyes. +The eyes appeared not only to see Diamond, but to know that Diamond had +caught sight of them, for the face withdrew the same moment. Again came +the voice, calling “Diamond, Diamond;” and in jumped the star to its +place. + +Diamond called as loud as he could, right up into the sky: + +“Here's Diamond, down below you. What do you want him to do?” + +The next instant many of the stars round about that one went out, and +many voices shouted from the sky,-- + +“Come up; come up. We're so jolly! Diamond! Diamond!” + +This was followed by a peal of the merriest, kindliest laughter, and all +the stars jumped into their places again. + +“How am I to come up?” shouted Diamond. + +“Go round the rose-bush. It's got its foot in it,” said the first voice. + +Diamond got up at once, and walked to the other side of the rose-bush. + +There he found what seemed the very opposite of what he wanted--a stair +down into the earth. It was of turf and moss. It did not seem to promise +well for getting into the sky, but Diamond had learned to look through +the look of things. The voice must have meant that he was to go down +this stair; and down this stair Diamond went, without waiting to think +more about it. + +It was such a nice stair, so cool and soft--all the sides as well as the +steps grown with moss and grass and ferns! Down and down Diamond went--a +long way, until at last he heard the gurgling and splashing of a little +stream; nor had he gone much farther before he met it--yes, met it +coming up the stairs to meet him, running up just as naturally as if +it had been doing the other thing. Neither was Diamond in the least +surprised to see it pitching itself from one step to another as it +climbed towards him: he never thought it was odd--and no more it was, +there. It would have been odd here. It made a merry tune as it came, and +its voice was like the laughter he had heard from the sky. This appeared +promising; and he went on, down and down the stair, and up and up the +stream, till at last he came where it hurried out from under a stone, +and the stair stopped altogether. And as the stream bubbled up, the +stone shook and swayed with its force; and Diamond thought he would try +to lift it. Lightly it rose to his hand, forced up by the stream from +below; and, by what would have seemed an unaccountable perversion of +things had he been awake, threatened to come tumbling upon his head. +But he avoided it, and when it fell, got upon it. He now saw that the +opening through which the water came pouring in was over his head, and +with the help of the stone he scrambled out by it, and found himself +on the side of a grassy hill which rounded away from him in every +direction, and down which came the brook which vanished in the hole. +But scarcely had he noticed so much as this before a merry shouting and +laughter burst upon him, and a number of naked little boys came running, +every one eager to get to him first. At the shoulders of each fluttered +two little wings, which were of no use for flying, as they were mere +buds; only being made for it they could not help fluttering as if they +were flying. Just as the foremost of the troop reached him, one or two +of them fell, and the rest with shouts of laughter came tumbling over +them till they heaped up a mound of struggling merriment. One after +another they extricated themselves, and each as he got free threw his +arms round Diamond and kissed him. Diamond's heart was ready to melt +within him from clear delight. When they had all embraced him,-- + +“Now let us have some fun,” cried one, and with a shout they all +scampered hither and thither, and played the wildest gambols on the +grassy slopes. They kept constantly coming back to Diamond, however, as +the centre of their enjoyment, rejoicing over him as if they had found a +lost playmate. + +There was a wind on the hillside which blew like the very embodiment +of living gladness. It blew into Diamond's heart, and made him so happy +that he was forced to sit down and cry. + +“Now let's go and dig for stars,” said one who seemed to be the captain +of the troop. + +They all scurried away, but soon returned, one after another, each with +a pickaxe on his shoulder and a spade in his hand. As soon as they were +gathered, the captain led them in a straight line to another part of the +hill. Diamond rose and followed. + +“Here is where we begin our lesson for to-night,” he said. “Scatter and +dig.” + +There was no more fun. Each went by himself, walking slowly with bent +shoulders and his eyes fixed on the ground. Every now and then one would +stop, kneel down, and look intently, feeling with his hands and parting +the grass. One would get up and walk on again, another spring to his +feet, catch eagerly at his pickaxe and strike it into the ground once +and again, then throw it aside, snatch up his spade, and commence +digging at the loosened earth. Now one would sorrowfully shovel the +earth into the hole again, trample it down with his little bare white +feet, and walk on. But another would give a joyful shout, and after +much tugging and loosening would draw from the hole a lump as big as his +head, or no bigger than his fist; when the under side of it would pour +such a blaze of golden or bluish light into Diamond's eyes that he was +quite dazzled. Gold and blue were the commoner colours: the jubilation +was greater over red or green or purple. And every time a star was +dug up all the little angels dropped their tools and crowded about it, +shouting and dancing and fluttering their wing-buds. + +When they had examined it well, they would kneel down one after the +other and peep through the hole; but they always stood back to give +Diamond the first look. All that diamond could report, however, was, +that through the star-holes he saw a great many things and places and +people he knew quite well, only somehow they were different--there was +something marvellous about them--he could not tell what. Every time he +rose from looking through a star-hole, he felt as if his heart would +break for, joy; and he said that if he had not cried, he did not know +what would have become of him. + +As soon as all had looked, the star was carefully fitted in again, a +little mould was strewn over it, and the rest of the heap left as a sign +that the star had been discovered. + +At length one dug up a small star of a most lovely colour--a colour +Diamond had never seen before. The moment the angel saw what it was, +instead of showing it about, he handed it to one of his neighbours, and +seated himself on the edge of the hole, saying: + +“This will do for me. Good-bye. I'm off.” + +They crowded about him, hugging and kissing him; then stood back with a +solemn stillness, their wings lying close to their shoulders. The little +fellow looked round on them once with a smile, and then shot himself +headlong through the star-hole. Diamond, as privileged, threw himself +on the ground to peep after him, but he saw nothing. “It's no use,” said +the captain. “I never saw anything more of one that went that way.” + +“His wings can't be much use,” said Diamond, concerned and fearful, yet +comforted by the calm looks of the rest. + +“That's true,” said the captain. “He's lost them by this time. They all +do that go that way. You haven't got any, you see.” + +“No,” said Diamond. “I never did have any.” + +“Oh! didn't you?” said the captain. + +“Some people say,” he added, after a pause, “that they come again. I +don't know. I've never found the colour I care about myself. I suppose I +shall some day.” + +Then they looked again at the star, put it carefully into its hole, +danced around it and over it--but solemnly, and called it by the name of +the finder. + +“Will you know it again?” asked Diamond. + +“Oh, yes. We never forget a star that's been made a door of.” + +Then they went on with their searching and digging. + +Diamond having neither pickaxe nor spade, had the more time to think. + +“I don't see any little girls,” he said at last. + +The captain stopped his shovelling, leaned on his spade, rubbed his +forehead thoughtfully with his left hand--the little angels were all +left-handed--repeated the words “little girls,” and then, as if a +thought had struck him, resumed his work, saying-- + +“I think I know what you mean. I've never seen any of them, of course; +but I suppose that's the sort you mean. I'm told--but mind I don't say +it is so, for I don't know--that when we fall asleep, a troop of angels +very like ourselves, only quite different, goes round to all the stars +we have discovered, and discovers them after us. I suppose with our +shovelling and handling we spoil them a bit; and I daresay the clouds +that come up from below make them smoky and dull sometimes. They +say--mind, I say they say--these other angels take them out one by one, +and pass each round as we do, and breathe over it, and rub it with +their white hands, which are softer than ours, because they don't do any +pick-and-spade work, and smile at it, and put it in again: and that is +what keeps them from growing dark.” + +“How jolly!” thought Diamond. “I should like to see them at their work +too.--When do you go to sleep?” he asked the captain. + +“When we grow sleepy,” answered the captain. “They do say--but mind I +say they say--that it is when those others--what do you call them? I +don't know if that is their name; I am only guessing that may be the +sort you mean--when they are on their rounds and come near any troop of +us we fall asleep. They live on the west side of the hill. None of us +have ever been to the top of it yet.” + +Even as he spoke, he dropped his spade. He tumbled down beside it, +and lay fast asleep. One after the other each of the troop dropped his +pickaxe or shovel from his listless hands, and lay fast asleep by his +work. + +“Ah!” thought Diamond to himself, with delight, “now the girl-angels are +coming, and I, not being an angel, shall not fall asleep like the rest, +and I shall see the girl-angels.” + +But the same moment he felt himself growing sleepy. He struggled hard +with the invading power. He put up his fingers to his eyelids and pulled +them open. But it was of no use. He thought he saw a glimmer of pale +rosy light far up the green hill, and ceased to know. + +When he awoke, all the angels were starting up wide awake too. He +expected to see them lift their tools, but no, the time for play had +come. They looked happier than ever, and each began to sing where he +stood. He had not heard them sing before. + +“Now,” he thought, “I shall know what kind of nonsense the angels sing +when they are merry. They don't drive cabs, I see, but they dig for +stars, and they work hard enough to be merry after it.” + +And he did hear some of the angels' nonsense; for if it was all sense to +them, it had only just as much sense to Diamond as made good nonsense of +it. He tried hard to set it down in his mind, listening as closely as +he could, now to one, now to another, and now to all together. But +while they were yet singing he began, to his dismay, to find that he was +coming awake--faster and faster. And as he came awake, he found that, +for all the goodness of his memory, verse after verse of the angels' +nonsense vanished from it. He always thought he could keep the last, +but as the next began he lost the one before it, and at length awoke, +struggling to keep hold of the last verse of all. He felt as if the +effort to keep from forgetting that one verse of the vanishing song +nearly killed him. And yet by the time he was wide awake he could not be +sure of that even. It was something like this: + + + White hands of whiteness + Wash the stars' faces, + Till glitter, glitter, glit, goes their brightness + Down to poor places. + + +This, however, was so near sense that he thought it could not be really +what they did sing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. DIAMOND TAKES A FARE THE WRONG WAY RIGHT + + +THE next morning Diamond was up almost as early as before. He had +nothing to fear from his mother now, and made no secret of what he was +about. By the time he reached the stable, several of the men were there. +They asked him a good many questions as to his luck the day before, and +he told them all they wanted to know. But when he proceeded to harness +the old horse, they pushed him aside with rough kindness, called him a +baby, and began to do it all for him. So Diamond ran in and had another +mouthful of tea and bread and butter; and although he had never been so +tired as he was the night before, he started quite fresh this morning. +It was a cloudy day, and the wind blew hard from the north--so hard +sometimes that, perched on the box with just his toes touching the +ground, Diamond wished that he had some kind of strap to fasten himself +down with lest he should be blown away. But he did not really mind it. + +His head was full of the dream he had dreamed; but it did not make him +neglect his work, for his work was not to dig stars but to drive old +Diamond and pick up fares. There are not many people who can think about +beautiful things and do common work at the same time. But then there are +not many people who have been to the back of the north wind. + +There was not much business doing. And Diamond felt rather cold, +notwithstanding his mother had herself put on his comforter and helped +him with his greatcoat. But he was too well aware of his dignity to +get inside his cab as some do. A cabman ought to be above minding the +weather--at least so Diamond thought. At length he was called to a +neighbouring house, where a young woman with a heavy box had to be taken +to Wapping for a coast-steamer. + +He did not find it at all pleasant, so far east and so near the river; +for the roughs were in great force. However, there being no block, not +even in Nightingale Lane, he reached the entrance of the wharf, and set +down his passenger without annoyance. But as he turned to go back, some +idlers, not content with chaffing him, showed a mind to the fare the +young woman had given him. They were just pulling him off the box, and +Diamond was shouting for the police, when a pale-faced man, in very +shabby clothes, but with the look of a gentleman somewhere about him, +came up, and making good use of his stick, drove them off. + +“Now, my little man,” he said, “get on while you can. Don't lose any +time. This is not a place for you.” + +But Diamond was not in the habit of thinking only of himself. He saw +that his new friend looked weary, if not ill, and very poor. + +“Won't you jump in, sir?” he said. “I will take you wherever you like.” + +“Thank you, my man; but I have no money; so I can't.” + +“Oh! I don't want any money. I shall be much happier if you will get in. +You have saved me all I had. I owe you a lift, sir.” + +“Which way are you going?” + +“To Charing Cross; but I don't mind where I go.” + +“Well, I am very tired. If you will take me to Charing Cross, I shall be +greatly obliged to you. I have walked from Gravesend, and had hardly a +penny left to get through the tunnel.” + +So saying, he opened the door and got in, and Diamond drove away. + +But as he drove, he could not help fancying he had seen the +gentleman--for Diamond knew he was a gentleman--before. Do all he could, +however, he could not recall where or when. Meantime his fare, if we may +call him such, seeing he was to pay nothing, whom the relief of being +carried had made less and less inclined to carry himself, had been +turning over things in his mind, and, as they passed the Mint, called to +Diamond, who stopped the horse, got down and went to the window. + +“If you didn't mind taking me to Chiswick, I should be able to pay you +when we got there. It's a long way, but you shall have the whole fare +from the Docks--and something over.” + +“Very well, sir” said Diamond. “I shall be most happy.” + +He was just clambering up again, when the gentleman put his head out of +the window and said-- + +“It's The Wilderness--Mr. Coleman's place; but I'll direct you when we +come into the neighbourhood.” + +It flashed upon Diamond who he was. But he got upon his box to arrange +his thoughts before making any reply. + +The gentleman was Mr. Evans, to whom Miss Coleman was to have been +married, and Diamond had seen him several times with her in the garden. +I have said that he had not behaved very well to Miss Coleman. He had +put off their marriage more than once in a cowardly fashion, merely +because he was ashamed to marry upon a small income, and live in a +humble way. When a man thinks of what people will say in such a case, he +may love, but his love is but a poor affair. Mr. Coleman took him +into the firm as a junior partner, and it was in a measure through his +influence that he entered upon those speculations which ruined him. So +his love had not been a blessing. The ship which North Wind had sunk was +their last venture, and Mr. Evans had gone out with it in the hope +of turning its cargo to the best advantage. He was one of the single +boat-load which managed to reach a desert island, and he had gone +through a great many hardships and sufferings since then. But he was +not past being taught, and his troubles had done him no end of good, for +they had made him doubt himself, and begin to think, so that he had come +to see that he had been foolish as well as wicked. For, if he had had +Miss Coleman with him in the desert island, to build her a hut, and hunt +for her food, and make clothes for her, he would have thought himself +the most fortunate of men; and when he was at home, he would not marry +till he could afford a man-servant. Before he got home again, he had +even begun to understand that no man can make haste to be rich without +going against the will of God, in which case it is the one frightful +thing to be successful. So he had come back a more humble man, and +longing to ask Miss Coleman to forgive him. But he had no idea what +ruin had fallen upon them, for he had never made himself thoroughly +acquainted with the firm's affairs. Few speculative people do know their +own affairs. Hence he never doubted he should find matters much as he +left them, and expected to see them all at The Wilderness as before. But +if he had not fallen in with Diamond, he would not have thought of going +there first. + +What was Diamond to do? He had heard his father and mother drop +some remarks concerning Mr. Evans which made him doubtful of him. He +understood that he had not been so considerate as he might have been. +So he went rather slowly till he should make up his mind. It was, of +course, of no use to drive Mr. Evans to Chiswick. But if he should tell +him what had befallen them, and where they lived now, he might put off +going to see them, and he was certain that Miss Coleman, at least, must +want very much to see Mr. Evans. He was pretty sure also that the best +thing in any case was to bring them together, and let them set matters +right for themselves. + +The moment he came to this conclusion, he changed his course from +westward to northward, and went straight for Mr. Coleman's poor little +house in Hoxton. Mr. Evans was too tired and too much occupied with his +thoughts to take the least notice of the streets they passed through, +and had no suspicion, therefore, of the change of direction. + +By this time the wind had increased almost to a hurricane, and as they +had often to head it, it was no joke for either of the Diamonds. The +distance, however, was not great. Before they reached the street where +Mr. Coleman lived it blew so tremendously, that when Miss Coleman, who +was going out a little way, opened the door, it dashed against the wall +with such a bang, that she was afraid to venture, and went in again. +In five minutes after, Diamond drew up at the door. As soon as he had +entered the street, however, the wind blew right behind them, and when +he pulled up, old Diamond had so much ado to stop the cab against it, +that the breeching broke. Young Diamond jumped off his box, knocked +loudly at the door, then turned to the cab and said--before Mr. Evans +had quite begun to think something must be amiss: + +“Please, sir, my harness has given away. Would you mind stepping in here +for a few minutes? They're friends of mine. I'll take you where you like +after I've got it mended. I shan't be many minutes, but you can't stand +in this wind.” + +Half stupid with fatigue and want of food, Mr. Evans yielded to the +boy's suggestion, and walked in at the door which the maid held with +difficulty against the wind. She took Mr. Evans for a visitor, as indeed +he was, and showed him into the room on the ground-floor. Diamond, who +had followed into the hall, whispered to her as she closed the door-- + +“Tell Miss Coleman. It's Miss Coleman he wants to see.” + +“I don't know” said the maid. “He don't look much like a gentleman.” + +“He is, though; and I know him, and so does Miss Coleman.” + +The maid could not but remember Diamond, having seen him when he and his +father brought the ladies home. So she believed him, and went to do what +he told her. + +What passed in the little parlour when Miss Coleman came down does not +belong to my story, which is all about Diamond. If he had known that +Miss Coleman thought Mr. Evans was dead, perhaps he would have managed +differently. There was a cry and a running to and fro in the house, and +then all was quiet again. + +Almost as soon as Mr. Evans went in, the wind began to cease, and was +now still. Diamond found that by making the breeching just a little +tighter than was quite comfortable for the old horse he could do very +well for the present; and, thinking it better to let him have his bag in +this quiet place, he sat on the box till the old horse should have eaten +his dinner. In a little while Mr. Evans came out, and asked him to come +in. Diamond obeyed, and to his delight Miss Coleman put her arms round +him and kissed him, and there was payment for him! Not to mention the +five precious shillings she gave him, which he could not refuse because +his mother wanted them so much at home for his father. He left them +nearly as happy as they were themselves. + +The rest of the day he did better, and, although he had not so much +to take home as the day before, yet on the whole the result was +satisfactory. And what a story he had to tell his father and mother +about his adventures, and how he had done, and what was the result! They +asked him such a multitude of questions! some of which he could answer, +and some of which he could not answer; and his father seemed ever so +much better from finding that his boy was already not only useful to his +family but useful to other people, and quite taking his place as a man +who judged what was wise, and did work worth doing. + +For a fortnight Diamond went on driving his cab, and keeping his family. +He had begun to be known about some parts of London, and people would +prefer taking his cab because they liked what they heard of him. One +gentleman who lived near the mews engaged him to carry him to the +City every morning at a certain hour; and Diamond was punctual as +clockwork--though to effect that required a good deal of care, for his +father's watch was not much to be depended on, and had to be watched +itself by the clock of St. George's church. Between the two, however, he +did make a success of it. + +After that fortnight, his father was able to go out again. Then Diamond +went to make inquiries about Nanny, and this led to something else. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL + + +THE first day his father resumed his work, Diamond went with him as +usual. In the afternoon, however, his father, having taken a fare to the +neighbourhood, went home, and Diamond drove the cab the rest of the +day. It was hard for old Diamond to do all the work, but they could +not afford to have another horse. They contrived to save him as much as +possible, and fed him well, and he did bravely. + +The next morning his father was so much stronger that Diamond thought he +might go and ask Mr. Raymond to take him to see Nanny. He found him at +home. His servant had grown friendly by this time, and showed him in +without any cross-questioning. Mr. Raymond received him with his usual +kindness, consented at once, and walked with him to the Hospital, which +was close at hand. It was a comfortable old-fashioned house, built in +the reign of Queen Anne, and in her day, no doubt, inhabited by rich and +fashionable people: now it was a home for poor sick children, who were +carefully tended for love's sake. There are regions in London where a +hospital in every other street might be full of such children, whose +fathers and mothers are dead, or unable to take care of them. + +When Diamond followed Mr. Raymond into the room where those children who +had got over the worst of their illness and were growing better lay, he +saw a number of little iron bedsteads, with their heads to the walls, +and in every one of them a child, whose face was a story in itself. +In some, health had begun to appear in a tinge upon the cheeks, and a +doubtful brightness in the eyes, just as out of the cold dreary winter +the spring comes in blushing buds and bright crocuses. In others there +were more of the signs of winter left. Their faces reminded you of +snow and keen cutting winds, more than of sunshine and soft breezes +and butterflies; but even in them the signs of suffering told that the +suffering was less, and that if the spring-time had but arrived, it had +yet arrived. + +Diamond looked all round, but could see no Nanny. He turned to Mr. +Raymond with a question in his eyes. + +“Well?” said Mr. Raymond. + +“Nanny's not here,” said Diamond. + +“Oh, yes, she is.” + +“I don't see her.” + +“I do, though. There she is.” + +He pointed to a bed right in front of where Diamond was standing. + +“That's not Nanny,” he said. + +“It is Nanny. I have seen her many times since you have. Illness makes a +great difference.” + +“Why, that girl must have been to the back of the north wind!” thought +Diamond, but he said nothing, only stared; and as he stared, something +of the old Nanny began to dawn through the face of the new Nanny. The +old Nanny, though a good girl, and a friendly girl, had been rough, +blunt in her speech, and dirty in her person. Her face would always +have reminded one who had already been to the back of the north wind +of something he had seen in the best of company, but it had been coarse +notwithstanding, partly from the weather, partly from her living amongst +low people, and partly from having to defend herself: now it was so +sweet, and gentle, and refined, that she might have had a lady and +gentleman for a father and mother. And Diamond could not help thinking +of words which he had heard in the church the day before: “Surely it is +good to be afflicted;” or something like that. North Wind, somehow or +other, must have had to do with her! She had grown from a rough girl +into a gentle maiden. + +Mr. Raymond, however, was not surprised, for he was used to see +such lovely changes--something like the change which passes upon the +crawling, many-footed creature, when it turns sick and ill, and revives +a butterfly, with two wings instead of many feet. Instead of her having +to take care of herself, kind hands ministered to her, making her +comfortable and sweet and clean, soothing her aching head, and giving +her cooling drink when she was thirsty; and kind eyes, the stars of the +kingdom of heaven, had shone upon her; so that, what with the fire of +the fever and the dew of tenderness, that which was coarse in her had +melted away, and her whole face had grown so refined and sweet that +Diamond did not know her. But as he gazed, the best of the old face, all +the true and good part of it, that which was Nanny herself, dawned upon +him, like the moon coming out of a cloud, until at length, instead of +only believing Mr. Raymond that this was she, he saw for himself that it +was Nanny indeed--very worn but grown beautiful. + +He went up to her. She smiled. He had heard her laugh, but had never +seen her smile before. + +“Nanny, do you know me?” said Diamond. + +She only smiled again, as if the question was amusing. + +She was not likely to forget him; for although she did not yet know +it was he who had got her there, she had dreamed of him often, and had +talked much about him when delirious. Nor was it much wonder, for he was +the only boy except Joe who had ever shown her kindness. + +Meantime Mr. Raymond was going from bed to bed, talking to the little +people. Every one knew him, and every one was eager to have a look, and +a smile, and a kind word from him. + +Diamond sat down on a stool at the head of Nanny's bed. She laid her +hand in his. No one else of her old acquaintance had been near her. + +Suddenly a little voice called aloud-- + +“Won't Mr. Raymond tell us a story?” + +“Oh, yes, please do! please do!” cried several little voices which also +were stronger than the rest. For Mr. Raymond was in the habit of telling +them a story when he went to see them, and they enjoyed it far more than +the other nice things which the doctor permitted him to give them. + +“Very well,” said Mr. Raymond, “I will. What sort of a story shall it +be?” + +“A true story,” said one little girl. + +“A fairy tale,” said a little boy. + +“Well,” said Mr. Raymond, “I suppose, as there is a difference, I may +choose. I can't think of any true story just at this moment, so I will +tell you a sort of a fairy one.” + +“Oh, jolly!” exclaimed the little boy who had called out for a fairy +tale. + +“It came into my head this morning as I got out of bed,” continued Mr. +Raymond; “and if it turns out pretty well, I will write it down, and get +somebody to print it for me, and then you shall read it when you like.” + +“Then nobody ever heard it before?” asked one older child. + +“No, nobody.” + +“Oh!” exclaimed several, thinking it very grand to have the first +telling; and I daresay there might be a peculiar freshness about it, +because everything would be nearly as new to the story-teller himself as +to the listeners. + +Some were only sitting up and some were lying down, so there could not +be the same busy gathering, bustling, and shifting to and fro with which +children generally prepare themselves to hear a story; but their faces, +and the turning of their heads, and many feeble exclamations of expected +pleasure, showed that all such preparations were making within them. + +Mr. Raymond stood in the middle of the room, that he might turn from +side to side, and give each a share of seeing him. Diamond kept his +place by Nanny's side, with her hand in his. I do not know how much of +Mr. Raymond's story the smaller children understood; indeed, I don't +quite know how much there was in it to be understood, for in such a +story every one has just to take what he can get. But they all listened +with apparent satisfaction, and certainly with great attention. Mr. +Raymond wrote it down afterwards, and here it is--somewhat altered no +doubt, for a good story-teller tries to make his stories better every +time he tells them. I cannot myself help thinking that he was somewhat +indebted for this one to the old story of The Sleeping Beauty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. LITTLE DAYLIGHT + + +NO HOUSE of any pretension to be called a palace is in the least worthy +of the name, except it has a wood near it--very near it--and the nearer +the better. Not all round it--I don't mean that, for a palace ought to +be open to the sun and wind, and stand high and brave, with weathercocks +glittering and flags flying; but on one side of every palace there must +be a wood. And there was a very grand wood indeed beside the palace of +the king who was going to be Daylight's father; such a grand wood, that +nobody yet had ever got to the other end of it. Near the house it was +kept very trim and nice, and it was free of brushwood for a long way in; +but by degrees it got wild, and it grew wilder, and wilder, and wilder, +until some said wild beasts at last did what they liked in it. The king +and his courtiers often hunted, however, and this kept the wild beasts +far away from the palace. + +One glorious summer morning, when the wind and sun were out together, +when the vanes were flashing and the flags frolicking against the blue +sky, little Daylight made her appearance from somewhere--nobody could +tell where--a beautiful baby, with such bright eyes that she might have +come from the sun, only by and by she showed such lively ways that she +might equally well have come out of the wind. There was great jubilation +in the palace, for this was the first baby the queen had had, and there +is as much happiness over a new baby in a palace as in a cottage. + +But there is one disadvantage of living near a wood: you do not know +quite who your neighbours may be. Everybody knew there were in it +several fairies, living within a few miles of the palace, who always had +had something to do with each new baby that came; for fairies live +so much longer than we, that they can have business with a good many +generations of human mortals. The curious houses they lived in were well +known also,--one, a hollow oak; another, a birch-tree, though nobody +could ever find how that fairy made a house of it; another, a hut of +growing trees intertwined, and patched up with turf and moss. But there +was another fairy who had lately come to the place, and nobody even knew +she was a fairy except the other fairies. A wicked old thing she was, +always concealing her power, and being as disagreeable as she could, +in order to tempt people to give her offence, that she might have the +pleasure of taking vengeance upon them. The people about thought she was +a witch, and those who knew her by sight were careful to avoid offending +her. She lived in a mud house, in a swampy part of the forest. + +In all history we find that fairies give their remarkable gifts to +prince or princess, or any child of sufficient importance in their eyes, +always at the christening. Now this we can understand, because it is +an ancient custom amongst human beings as well; and it is not hard to +explain why wicked fairies should choose the same time to do unkind +things; but it is difficult to understand how they should be able to +do them, for you would fancy all wicked creatures would be powerless on +such an occasion. But I never knew of any interference on the part of +the wicked fairy that did not turn out a good thing in the end. What a +good thing, for instance, it was that one princess should sleep for a +hundred years! Was she not saved from all the plague of young men who +were not worthy of her? And did she not come awake exactly at the right +moment when the right prince kissed her? For my part, I cannot help +wishing a good many girls would sleep till just the same fate overtook +them. It would be happier for them, and more agreeable to their friends. + +Of course all the known fairies were invited to the christening. But the +king and queen never thought of inviting an old witch. + +For the power of the fairies they have by nature; whereas a witch gets +her power by wickedness. The other fairies, however, knowing the danger +thus run, provided as well as they could against accidents from her +quarter. But they could neither render her powerless, nor could they +arrange their gifts in reference to hers beforehand, for they could not +tell what those might be. + +Of course the old hag was there without being asked. Not to be asked +was just what she wanted, that she might have a sort of reason for doing +what she wished to do. For somehow even the wickedest of creatures likes +a pretext for doing the wrong thing. + +Five fairies had one after the other given the child such gifts as each +counted best, and the fifth had just stepped back to her place in the +surrounding splendour of ladies and gentlemen, when, mumbling a laugh +between her toothless gums, the wicked fairy hobbled out into the middle +of the circle, and at the moment when the archbishop was handing the +baby to the lady at the head of the nursery department of state affairs, +addressed him thus, giving a bite or two to every word before she could +part with it: + +“Please your Grace, I'm very deaf: would your Grace mind repeating the +princess's name?” + +“With pleasure, my good woman,” said the archbishop, stooping to shout +in her ear: “the infant's name is little Daylight.” + +“And little daylight it shall be,” cried the fairy, in the tone of a dry +axle, “and little good shall any of her gifts do her. For I bestow upon +her the gift of sleeping all day long, whether she will or not. Ha, ha! +He, he! Hi, hi!” + +Then out started the sixth fairy, who, of course, the others had +arranged should come after the wicked one, in order to undo as much as +she might. + +“If she sleep all day,” she said, mournfully, “she shall, at least, wake +all night.” + +“A nice prospect for her mother and me!” thought the poor king; for they +loved her far too much to give her up to nurses, especially at night, as +most kings and queens do--and are sorry for it afterwards. + +“You spoke before I had done,” said the wicked fairy. “That's against +the law. It gives me another chance.” + +“I beg your pardon,” said the other fairies, all together. + +“She did. I hadn't done laughing,” said the crone. “I had only got to +Hi, hi! and I had to go through Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! So I decree that if +she wakes all night she shall wax and wane with its mistress, the moon. +And what that may mean I hope her royal parents will live to see. Ho, +ho! Hu, hu!” + +But out stepped another fairy, for they had been wise enough to keep two +in reserve, because every fairy knew the trick of one. + +“Until,” said the seventh fairy, “a prince comes who shall kiss her +without knowing it.” + +The wicked fairy made a horrid noise like an angry cat, and hobbled +away. She could not pretend that she had not finished her speech this +time, for she had laughed Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! + +“I don't know what that means,” said the poor king to the seventh fairy. + +“Don't be afraid. The meaning will come with the thing itself,” said +she. + +The assembly broke up, miserable enough--the queen, at least, prepared +for a good many sleepless nights, and the lady at the head of the +nursery department anything but comfortable in the prospect before her, +for of course the queen could not do it all. As for the king, he made up +his mind, with what courage he could summon, to meet the demands of the +case, but wondered whether he could with any propriety require the First +Lord of the Treasury to take a share in the burden laid upon him. + +I will not attempt to describe what they had to go through for some +time. But at last the household settled into a regular system--a very +irregular one in some respects. For at certain seasons the palace rang +all night with bursts of laughter from little Daylight, whose heart the +old fairy's curse could not reach; she was Daylight still, only a little +in the wrong place, for she always dropped asleep at the first hint of +dawn in the east. But her merriment was of short duration. When the moon +was at the full, she was in glorious spirits, and as beautiful as it was +possible for a child of her age to be. But as the moon waned, she faded, +until at last she was wan and withered like the poorest, sickliest child +you might come upon in the streets of a great city in the arms of a +homeless mother. Then the night was quiet as the day, for the little +creature lay in her gorgeous cradle night and day with hardly a motion, +and indeed at last without even a moan, like one dead. At first they +often thought she was dead, but at last they got used to it, and only +consulted the almanac to find the moment when she would begin to revive, +which, of course, was with the first appearance of the silver thread of +the crescent moon. Then she would move her lips, and they would give her +a little nourishment; and she would grow better and better and better, +until for a few days she was splendidly well. When well, she was always +merriest out in the moonlight; but even when near her worst, she seemed +better when, in warm summer nights, they carried her cradle out into +the light of the waning moon. Then in her sleep she would smile the +faintest, most pitiful smile. + +For a long time very few people ever saw her awake. As she grew older +she became such a favourite, however, that about the palace there were +always some who would contrive to keep awake at night, in order to be +near her. But she soon began to take every chance of getting away from +her nurses and enjoying her moonlight alone. And thus things went on +until she was nearly seventeen years of age. Her father and mother had +by that time got so used to the odd state of things that they had ceased +to wonder at them. All their arrangements had reference to the state +of the Princess Daylight, and it is amazing how things contrive to +accommodate themselves. But how any prince was ever to find and deliver +her, appeared inconceivable. + +As she grew older she had grown more and more beautiful, with the +sunniest hair and the loveliest eyes of heavenly blue, brilliant and +profound as the sky of a June day. But so much more painful and sad was +the change as her bad time came on. The more beautiful she was in the +full moon, the more withered and worn did she become as the moon waned. +At the time at which my story has now arrived, she looked, when the moon +was small or gone, like an old woman exhausted with suffering. This was +the more painful that her appearance was unnatural; for her hair and +eyes did not change. Her wan face was both drawn and wrinkled, and had +an eager hungry look. Her skinny hands moved as if wishing, but unable, +to lay hold of something. Her shoulders were bent forward, her chest +went in, and she stooped as if she were eighty years old. At last she +had to be put to bed, and there await the flow of the tide of life. But +she grew to dislike being seen, still more being touched by any hands, +during this season. One lovely summer evening, when the moon lay all but +gone upon the verge of the horizon, she vanished from her attendants, +and it was only after searching for her a long time in great terror, +that they found her fast asleep in the forest, at the foot of a silver +birch, and carried her home. + +A little way from the palace there was a great open glade, covered with +the greenest and softest grass. This was her favourite haunt; for here +the full moon shone free and glorious, while through a vista in the +trees she could generally see more or less of the dying moon as it +crossed the opening. Here she had a little rustic house built for her, +and here she mostly resided. None of the court might go there without +leave, and her own attendants had learned by this time not to be +officious in waiting upon her, so that she was very much at liberty. +Whether the good fairies had anything to do with it or not I cannot +tell, but at last she got into the way of retreating further into the +wood every night as the moon waned, so that sometimes they had great +trouble in finding her; but as she was always very angry if she +discovered they were watching her, they scarcely dared to do so. At +length one night they thought they had lost her altogether. It was +morning before they found her. Feeble as she was, she had wandered into +a thicket a long way from the glade, and there she lay--fast asleep, of +course. + +Although the fame of her beauty and sweetness had gone abroad, yet as +everybody knew she was under a bad spell, no king in the neighbourhood +had any desire to have her for a daughter-in-law. There were serious +objections to such a relation. + +About this time in a neighbouring kingdom, in consequence of the +wickedness of the nobles, an insurrection took place upon the death of +the old king, the greater part of the nobility was massacred, and +the young prince was compelled to flee for his life, disguised like a +peasant. For some time, until he got out of the country, he suffered +much from hunger and fatigue; but when he got into that ruled by the +princess's father, and had no longer any fear of being recognised, he +fared better, for the people were kind. He did not abandon his disguise, +however. One tolerable reason was that he had no other clothes to put +on, and another that he had very little money, and did not know where to +get any more. There was no good in telling everybody he met that he +was a prince, for he felt that a prince ought to be able to get on like +other people, else his rank only made a fool of him. He had read of +princes setting out upon adventure; and here he was out in similar case, +only without having had a choice in the matter. He would go on, and see +what would come of it. + +For a day or two he had been walking through the palace-wood, and had +had next to nothing to eat, when he came upon the strangest little +house, inhabited by a very nice, tidy, motherly old woman. This was one +of the good fairies. The moment she saw him she knew quite well who +he was and what was going to come of it; but she was not at liberty to +interfere with the orderly march of events. She received him with the +kindness she would have shown to any other traveller, and gave him bread +and milk, which he thought the most delicious food he had ever tasted, +wondering that they did not have it for dinner at the palace sometimes. +The old woman pressed him to stay all night. When he awoke he was amazed +to find how well and strong he felt. She would not take any of the money +he offered, but begged him, if he found occasion of continuing in the +neighbourhood, to return and occupy the same quarters. + +“Thank you much, good mother,” answered the prince; “but there is little +chance of that. The sooner I get out of this wood the better.” + +“I don't know that,” said the fairy. + +“What do you mean?” asked the prince. + +“Why, how should I know?” returned she. + +“I can't tell,” said the prince. + +“Very well,” said the fairy. + +“How strangely you talk!” said the prince. + +“Do I?” said the fairy. + +“Yes, you do,” said the prince. + +“Very well,” said the fairy. + +The prince was not used to be spoken to in this fashion, so he felt a +little angry, and turned and walked away. But this did not offend the +fairy. She stood at the door of her little house looking after him till +the trees hid him quite. Then she said “At last!” and went in. + +The prince wandered and wandered, and got nowhere. The sun sank and sank +and went out of sight, and he seemed no nearer the end of the wood than +ever. He sat down on a fallen tree, ate a bit of bread the old woman had +given him, and waited for the moon; for, although he was not much of an +astronomer, he knew the moon would rise some time, because she had risen +the night before. Up she came, slow and slow, but of a good size, pretty +nearly round indeed; whereupon, greatly refreshed with his piece of +bread, he got up and went--he knew not whither. + +After walking a considerable distance, he thought he was coming to the +outside of the forest; but when he reached what he thought the last of +it, he found himself only upon the edge of a great open space in it, +covered with grass. The moon shone very bright, and he thought he had +never seen a more lovely spot. Still it looked dreary because of its +loneliness, for he could not see the house at the other side. He sat +down, weary again, and gazed into the glade. He had not seen so much +room for several days. + +All at once he spied something in the middle of the grass. What could it +be? It moved; it came nearer. Was it a human creature, gliding across--a +girl dressed in white, gleaming in the moonshine? She came nearer and +nearer. He crept behind a tree and watched, wondering. It must be some +strange being of the wood--a nymph whom the moonlight and the warm +dusky air had enticed from her tree. But when she came close to where +he stood, he no longer doubted she was human--for he had caught sight of +her sunny hair, and her clear blue eyes, and the loveliest face and form +that he had ever seen. All at once she began singing like a nightingale, +and dancing to her own music, with her eyes ever turned towards the +moon. She passed close to where he stood, dancing on by the edge of the +trees and away in a great circle towards the other side, until he could +see but a spot of white in the yellowish green of the moonlit grass. But +when he feared it would vanish quite, the spot grew, and became a figure +once more. She approached him again, singing and dancing, and waving her +arms over her head, until she had completed the circle. Just opposite +his tree she stood, ceased her song, dropped her arms, and broke out +into a long clear laugh, musical as a brook. Then, as if tired, she +threw herself on the grass, and lay gazing at the moon. The prince was +almost afraid to breathe lest he should startle her, and she should +vanish from his sight. As to venturing near her, that never came into +his head. + +She had lain for a long hour or longer, when the prince began again to +doubt concerning her. Perhaps she was but a vision of his own fancy. Or +was she a spirit of the wood, after all? If so, he too would haunt the +wood, glad to have lost kingdom and everything for the hope of being +near her. He would build him a hut in the forest, and there he would +live for the pure chance of seeing her again. Upon nights like this at +least she would come out and bask in the moonlight, and make his soul +blessed. But while he thus dreamed she sprang to her feet, turned her +face full to the moon, and began singing as she would draw her down from +the sky by the power of her entrancing voice. She looked more beautiful +than ever. Again she began dancing to her own music, and danced away +into the distance. Once more she returned in a similar manner; but +although he was watching as eagerly as before, what with fatigue and +what with gazing, he fell fast asleep before she came near him. When he +awoke it was broad daylight, and the princess was nowhere. + +He could not leave the place. What if she should come the next night! He +would gladly endure a day's hunger to see her yet again: he would buckle +his belt quite tight. He walked round the glade to see if he could +discover any prints of her feet. But the grass was so short, and her +steps had been so light, that she had not left a single trace behind +her. He walked half-way round the wood without seeing anything to +account for her presence. Then he spied a lovely little house, with +thatched roof and low eaves, surrounded by an exquisite garden, with +doves and peacocks walking in it. Of course this must be where the +gracious lady who loved the moonlight lived. Forgetting his appearance, +he walked towards the door, determined to make inquiries, but as he +passed a little pond full of gold and silver fishes, he caught sight of +himself and turned to find the door to the kitchen. There he knocked, +and asked for a piece of bread. The good-natured cook brought him in, +and gave him an excellent breakfast, which the prince found nothing the +worse for being served in the kitchen. While he ate, he talked with +his entertainer, and learned that this was the favourite retreat of +the Princess Daylight. But he learned nothing more, both because he was +afraid of seeming inquisitive, and because the cook did not choose to be +heard talking about her mistress to a peasant lad who had begged for his +breakfast. + +As he rose to take his leave, it occurred to him that he might not be +so far from the old woman's cottage as he had thought, and he asked the +cook whether she knew anything of such a place, describing it as well as +he could. She said she knew it well enough, adding with a smile-- + +“It's there you're going, is it?” + +“Yes, if it's not far off.” + +“It's not more than three miles. But mind what you are about, you know.” + +“Why do you say that?” + +“If you're after any mischief, she'll make you repent it.” + +“The best thing that could happen under the circumstances,” remarked the +prince. + +“What do you mean by that?” asked the cook. + +“Why, it stands to reason,” answered the prince “that if you wish to do +anything wrong, the best thing for you is to be made to repent of it.” + +“I see,” said the cook. “Well, I think you may venture. She's a good old +soul.” + +“Which way does it lie from here?” asked the prince. + +She gave him full instructions; and he left her with many thanks. + +Being now refreshed, however, the prince did not go back to the cottage +that day: he remained in the forest, amusing himself as best he could, +but waiting anxiously for the night, in the hope that the princess would +again appear. Nor was he disappointed, for, directly the moon rose, he +spied a glimmering shape far across the glade. As it drew nearer, he saw +it was she indeed--not dressed in white as before: in a pale blue like +the sky, she looked lovelier still. He thought it was that the blue +suited her yet better than the white; he did not know that she was +really more beautiful because the moon was nearer the full. In fact the +next night was full moon, and the princess would then be at the zenith +of her loveliness. + +The prince feared for some time that she was not coming near his +hiding-place that night; but the circles in her dance ever widened as +the moon rose, until at last they embraced the whole glade, and she +came still closer to the trees where he was hiding than she had come the +night before. He was entranced with her loveliness, for it was indeed a +marvellous thing. All night long he watched her, but dared not go near +her. He would have been ashamed of watching her too, had he not become +almost incapable of thinking of anything but how beautiful she was. He +watched the whole night long, and saw that as the moon went down she +retreated in smaller and smaller circles, until at last he could see her +no more. + +Weary as he was, he set out for the old woman's cottage, where he +arrived just in time for her breakfast, which she shared with him. He +then went to bed, and slept for many hours. When he awoke the sun was +down, and he departed in great anxiety lest he should lose a glimpse +of the lovely vision. But, whether it was by the machinations of the +swamp-fairy, or merely that it is one thing to go and another to return +by the same road, he lost his way. I shall not attempt to describe his +misery when the moon rose, and he saw nothing but trees, trees, trees. + +She was high in the heavens before he reached the glade. Then indeed +his troubles vanished, for there was the princess coming dancing towards +him, in a dress that shone like gold, and with shoes that glimmered +through the grass like fireflies. She was of course still more beautiful +than before. Like an embodied sunbeam she passed him, and danced away +into the distance. + +Before she returned in her circle, the clouds had begun to gather about +the moon. The wind rose, the trees moaned, and their lighter branches +leaned all one way before it. The prince feared that the princess would +go in, and he should see her no more that night. But she came dancing on +more jubilant than ever, her golden dress and her sunny hair streaming +out upon the blast, waving her arms towards the moon, and in the +exuberance of her delight ordering the clouds away from off her face. +The prince could hardly believe she was not a creature of the elements, +after all. + +By the time she had completed another circle, the clouds had gathered +deep, and there were growlings of distant thunder. Just as she passed +the tree where he stood, a flash of lightning blinded him for a moment, +and when he saw again, to his horror, the princess lay on the ground. +He darted to her, thinking she had been struck; but when she heard him +coming, she was on her feet in a moment. + +“What do you want?” she asked. + +“I beg your pardon. I thought--the lightning” said the prince, +hesitating. + +“There's nothing the matter,” said the princess, waving him off rather +haughtily. + +The poor prince turned and walked towards the wood. + +“Come back,” said Daylight: “I like you. You do what you are told. Are +you good?” + +“Not so good as I should like to be,” said the prince. + +“Then go and grow better,” said the princess. + +Again the disappointed prince turned and went. + +“Come back,” said the princess. + +He obeyed, and stood before her waiting. + +“Can you tell me what the sun is like?” she asked. + +“No,” he answered. “But where's the good of asking what you know?” + +“But I don't know,” she rejoined. + +“Why, everybody knows.” + +“That's the very thing: I'm not everybody. I've never seen the sun.” + +“Then you can't know what it's like till you do see it.” + +“I think you must be a prince,” said the princess. + +“Do I look like one?” said the prince. + +“I can't quite say that.” + +“Then why do you think so?” + +“Because you both do what you are told and speak the truth.--Is the sun +so very bright?” + +“As bright as the lightning.” + +“But it doesn't go out like that, does it?” + +“Oh, no. It shines like the moon, rises and sets like the moon, is much +the same shape as the moon, only so bright that you can't look at it for +a moment.” + +“But I would look at it,” said the princess. + +“But you couldn't,” said the prince. + +“But I could,” said the princess. + +“Why don't you, then?” + +“Because I can't.” + +“Why can't you?” + +“Because I can't wake. And I never shall wake until----” + +Here she hid her face in her hands, turned away, and walked in the +slowest, stateliest manner towards the house. The prince ventured to +follow her at a little distance, but she turned and made a repellent +gesture, which, like a true gentleman-prince, he obeyed at once. He +waited a long time, but as she did not come near him again, and as the +night had now cleared, he set off at last for the old woman's cottage. + +It was long past midnight when he reached it, but, to his surprise, the +old woman was paring potatoes at the door. Fairies are fond of doing odd +things. Indeed, however they may dissemble, the night is always their +day. And so it is with all who have fairy blood in them. + +“Why, what are you doing there, this time of the night, mother?” said +the prince; for that was the kind way in which any young man in his +country would address a woman who was much older than himself. + +“Getting your supper ready, my son,” she answered. + +“Oh, I don't want any supper,” said the prince. + +“Ah! you've seen Daylight,” said she. + +“I've seen a princess who never saw it,” said the prince. + +“Do you like her?” asked the fairy. + +“Oh! don't I?” said the prince. “More than you would believe, mother.” + +“A fairy can believe anything that ever was or ever could be,” said the +old woman. + +“Then are you a fairy?” asked the prince. + +“Yes,” said she. + +“Then what do you do for things not to believe?” asked the prince. + +“There's plenty of them--everything that never was nor ever could be.” + +“Plenty, I grant you,” said the prince. “But do you believe there could +be a princess who never saw the daylight? Do you believe that now?” + +This the prince said, not that he doubted the princess, but that he +wanted the fairy to tell him more. She was too old a fairy, however, to +be caught so easily. + +“Of all people, fairies must not tell secrets. Besides, she's a +princess.” + +“Well, I'll tell you a secret. I'm a prince.” + +“I know that.” + +“How do you know it?” + +“By the curl of the third eyelash on your left eyelid.” + +“Which corner do you count from?” + +“That's a secret.” + +“Another secret? Well, at least, if I am a prince, there can be no harm +in telling me about a princess.” + +“It's just the princes I can't tell.” + +“There ain't any more of them--are there?” said the prince. + +“What! you don't think you're the only prince in the world, do you?” + +“Oh, dear, no! not at all. But I know there's one too many just at +present, except the princess----” + +“Yes, yes, that's it,” said the fairy. + +“What's it?” asked the prince. + +But he could get nothing more out of the fairy, and had to go to bed +unanswered, which was something of a trial. + +Now wicked fairies will not be bound by the law which the good fairies +obey, and this always seems to give the bad the advantage over the good, +for they use means to gain their ends which the others will not. But it +is all of no consequence, for what they do never succeeds; nay, in the +end it brings about the very thing they are trying to prevent. So +you see that somehow, for all their cleverness, wicked fairies are +dreadfully stupid, for, although from the beginning of the world they +have really helped instead of thwarting the good fairies, not one of +them is a bit wiser for it. She will try the bad thing just as they all +did before her; and succeeds no better of course. + +The prince had so far stolen a march upon the swamp-fairy that she +did not know he was in the neighbourhood until after he had seen the +princess those three times. When she knew it, she consoled herself by +thinking that the princess must be far too proud and too modest for any +young man to venture even to speak to her before he had seen her six +times at least. But there was even less danger than the wicked fairy +thought; for, however much the princess might desire to be set free, she +was dreadfully afraid of the wrong prince. Now, however, the fairy was +going to do all she could. + +She so contrived it by her deceitful spells, that the next night the +prince could not by any endeavour find his way to the glade. It would +take me too long to tell her tricks. They would be amusing to us, who +know that they could not do any harm, but they were something other than +amusing to the poor prince. He wandered about the forest till daylight, +and then fell fast asleep. The same thing occurred for seven following +days, during which neither could he find the good fairy's cottage. After +the third quarter of the moon, however, the bad fairy thought she might +be at ease about the affair for a fortnight at least, for there was no +chance of the prince wishing to kiss the princess during that period. +So the first day of the fourth quarter he did find the cottage, and the +next day he found the glade. For nearly another week he haunted it. But +the princess never came. I have little doubt she was on the farther +edge of it some part of every night, but at this period she always wore +black, and, there being little or no light, the prince never saw her. +Nor would he have known her if he had seen her. How could he have +taken the worn decrepit creature she was now, for the glorious Princess +Daylight? + +At last, one night when there was no moon at all, he ventured near the +house. There he heard voices talking, although it was past midnight; for +her women were in considerable uneasiness, because the one whose turn it +was to watch her had fallen asleep, and had not seen which way she went, +and this was a night when she would probably wander very far, describing +a circle which did not touch the open glade at all, but stretched away +from the back of the house, deep into that side of the forest--a part +of which the prince knew nothing. When he understood from what they said +that she had disappeared, and that she must have gone somewhere in the +said direction, he plunged at once into the wood to see if he could find +her. For hours he roamed with nothing to guide him but the vague notion +of a circle which on one side bordered on the house, for so much had he +picked up from the talk he had overheard. + +It was getting towards the dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light +in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary at +the foot of it. While he sat--very miserable, you may be sure--full of +fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants could take it so +quietly, he bethought himself that it would not be a bad plan to light +a fire, which, if she were anywhere near, would attract her. This he +managed with a tinder-box, which the good fairy had given him. It was +just beginning to blaze up, when he heard a moan, which seemed to come +from the other side of the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart +throbbed so that he had to lean for a moment against the tree before he +could move. When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark +heap on the earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it +was not the princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier than a +child, and carried it to the flame. The countenance was that of an old +woman, but it had a fearfully strange look. A black hood concealed her +hair, and her eyes were closed. He laid her down as comfortably as he +could, chafed her hands, put a little cordial from a bottle, also the +gift of the fairy, into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it +about her, and in short did the best he could. In a little while she +opened her eyes and looked at him--so pitifully! The tears rose and +flowed from her grey wrinkled cheeks, but she said never a word. She +closed her eyes again, but the tears kept on flowing, and her whole +appearance was so utterly pitiful that the prince was near crying too. +He begged her to tell him what was the matter, promising to do all +he could to help her; but still she did not speak. He thought she was +dying, and took her in his arms again to carry her to the princess's +house, where he thought the good-natured cook might be able to do +something for her. When he lifted her, the tears flowed yet faster, and +she gave such a sad moan that it went to his very heart. + +“Mother, mother!” he said. “Poor mother!” and kissed her on the withered +lips. + +She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him! But he did +not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had enough to do to +make his way through the trees towards the house. + +Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could have +imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing--she began to +move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her a moment longer, +he thought to lay her on the grass. But she stood upright on her feet. +Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her. The first gleam +of the morning was caught on her face: that face was bright as the +never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the sky of darkest blue. +The prince recoiled in overmastering wonder. It was Daylight herself +whom he had brought from the forest! He fell at her feet, nor dared to +look up until she laid her hand upon his head. He rose then. + +“You kissed me when I was an old woman: there! I kiss you when I am a +young princess,” murmured Daylight.--“Is that the sun coming?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. RUBY + + +THE children were delighted with the story, and made many amusing +remarks upon it. Mr. Raymond promised to search his brain for another, +and when he had found one to bring it to them. Diamond having taken +leave of Nanny, and promised to go and see her again soon, went away +with him. + +Now Mr. Raymond had been turning over in his mind what he could do both +for Diamond and for Nanny. He had therefore made some acquaintance with +Diamond's father, and had been greatly pleased with him. But he had come +to the resolution, before he did anything so good as he would like to +do for them, to put them all to a certain test. So as they walked away +together, he began to talk with Diamond as follows:-- + +“Nanny must leave the hospital soon, Diamond.” + +“I'm glad of that, sir.” + +“Why? Don't you think it's a nice place?” + +“Yes, very. But it's better to be well and doing something, you know, +even if it's not quite so comfortable.” + +“But they can't keep Nanny so long as they would like. They can't keep +her till she's quite strong. There are always so many sick children they +want to take in and make better. And the question is, What will she do +when they send her out again?” + +“That's just what I can't tell, though I've been thinking of it over and +over, sir. Her crossing was taken long ago, and I couldn't bear to see +Nanny fighting for it, especially with such a poor fellow as has taken +it. He's quite lame, sir.” + +“She doesn't look much like fighting, now, does she, Diamond?” + +“No, sir. She looks too like an angel. Angels don't fight--do they, +sir?” + +“Not to get things for themselves, at least,” said Mr. Raymond. + +“Besides,” added Diamond, “I don't quite see that she would have any +better right to the crossing than the boy who has got it. Nobody gave it +to her; she only took it. And now he has taken it.” + +“If she were to sweep a crossing--soon at least--after the illness she +has had, she would be laid up again the very first wet day,” said Mr. +Raymond. + +“And there's hardly any money to be got except on the wet days,” + remarked Diamond reflectively. “Is there nothing else she could do, +sir?” + +“Not without being taught, I'm afraid.” + +“Well, couldn't somebody teach her something?” + +“Couldn't you teach her, Diamond?” + +“I don't know anything myself, sir. I could teach her to dress the +baby; but nobody would give her anything for doing things like that: +they are so easy. There wouldn't be much good in teaching her to drive +a cab, for where would she get the cab to drive? There ain't fathers and +old Diamonds everywhere. At least poor Nanny can't find any of them, I +doubt.” + +“Perhaps if she were taught to be nice and clean, and only speak gentle +words.” + +“Mother could teach her that,” interrupted Diamond. + +“And to dress babies, and feed them, and take care of them,” Mr. Raymond +proceeded, “she might get a place as a nurse somewhere, you know. People +do give money for that.” + +“Then I'll ask mother,” said Diamond. + +“But you'll have to give her her food then; and your father, not being +strong, has enough to do already without that.” + +“But here's me,” said Diamond: “I help him out with it. When he's tired +of driving, up I get. It don't make any difference to old Diamond. I +don't mean he likes me as well as my father--of course he can't, you +know--nobody could; but he does his duty all the same. It's got to be +done, you know, sir; and Diamond's a good horse--isn't he, sir?” + +“From your description I should say certainly; but I have not the +pleasure of his acquaintance myself.” + +“Don't you think he will go to heaven, sir?” + +“That I don't know anything about,” said Mr. Raymond. “I confess I +should be glad to think so,” he added, smiling thoughtfully. + +“I'm sure he'll get to the back of the north wind, anyhow,” said Diamond +to himself; but he had learned to be very careful of saying such things +aloud. + +“Isn't it rather too much for him to go in the cab all day and every +day?” resumed Mr. Raymond. + +“So father says, when he feels his ribs of a morning. But then he says +the old horse do eat well, and the moment he's had his supper, down +he goes, and never gets up till he's called; and, for the legs of him, +father says that makes no end of a differ. Some horses, sir! they won't +lie down all night long, but go to sleep on their four pins, like a +haystack, father says. I think it's very stupid of them, and so does old +Diamond. But then I suppose they don't know better, and so they can't +help it. We mustn't be too hard upon them, father says.” + +“Your father must be a good man, Diamond.” Diamond looked up in Mr. +Raymond's face, wondering what he could mean. + +“I said your father must be a good man, Diamond.” + +“Of course,” said Diamond. “How could he drive a cab if he wasn't?” + +“There are some men who drive cabs who are not very good,” objected Mr. +Raymond. + +Diamond remembered the drunken cabman, and saw that his friend was +right. + +“Ah, but,” he returned, “he must be, you know, with such a horse as old +Diamond.” + +“That does make a difference,” said Mr. Raymond. “But it is quite enough +that he is a good man without our trying to account for it. Now, if you +like, I will give you a proof that I think him a good man. I am going +away on the Continent for a while--for three months, I believe--and I +am going to let my house to a gentleman who does not want the use of +my brougham. My horse is nearly as old, I fancy, as your Diamond, but +I don't want to part with him, and I don't want him to be idle; for +nobody, as you say, ought to be idle; but neither do I want him to be +worked very hard. Now, it has come into my head that perhaps your father +would take charge of him, and work him under certain conditions.” + +“My father will do what's right,” said Diamond. “I'm sure of that.” + +“Well, so I think. Will you ask him when he comes home to call and have +a little chat with me--to-day, some time?” + +“He must have his dinner first,” said Diamond. “No, he's got his dinner +with him to-day. It must be after he's had his tea.” + +“Of course, of course. Any time will do. I shall be at home all day.” + +“Very well, sir. I will tell him. You may be sure he will come. My +father thinks you a very kind gentleman, and I know he is right, for I +know your very own self, sir.” + +Mr. Raymond smiled, and as they had now reached his door, they parted, +and Diamond went home. As soon as his father entered the house, Diamond +gave him Mr. Raymond's message, and recounted the conversation that had +preceded it. His father said little, but took thought-sauce to his bread +and butter, and as soon as he had finished his meal, rose, saying: + +“I will go to your friend directly, Diamond. It would be a grand thing +to get a little more money. We do want it.” Diamond accompanied his +father to Mr. Raymond's door, and there left him. + +He was shown at once into Mr. Raymond's study, where he gazed with +some wonder at the multitude of books on the walls, and thought what a +learned man Mr. Raymond must be. + +Presently Mr. Raymond entered, and after saying much the same about +his old horse, made the following distinct proposal--one not +over-advantageous to Diamond's father, but for which he had +reasons--namely, that Joseph should have the use of Mr. Raymond's horse +while he was away, on condition that he never worked him more than six +hours a day, and fed him well, and that, besides, he should take Nanny +home as soon as she was able to leave the hospital, and provide for her +as one of his own children, neither better nor worse--so long, that is, +as he had the horse. + +Diamond's father could not help thinking it a pretty close bargain. He +should have both the girl and the horse to feed, and only six hours' +work out of the horse. + +“It will save your own horse,” said Mr. Raymond. + +“That is true,” answered Joseph; “but all I can get by my own horse is +only enough to keep us, and if I save him and feed your horse and the +girl--don't you see, sir?” + +“Well, you can go home and think about it, and let me know by the end of +the week. I am in no hurry before then.” + +So Joseph went home and recounted the proposal to his wife, adding that +he did not think there was much advantage to be got out of it. + +“Not much that way, husband,” said Diamond's mother; “but there would be +an advantage, and what matter who gets it!” + +“I don't see it,” answered her husband. “Mr. Raymond is a gentleman of +property, and I don't discover any much good in helping him to save a +little more. He won't easily get one to make such a bargain, and I +don't mean he shall get me. It would be a loss rather than a gain--I do +think--at least if I took less work out of our own horse.” + +“One hour would make a difference to old Diamond. But that's not the +main point. You must think what an advantage it would be to the poor +girl that hasn't a home to go to!” + +“She is one of Diamond's friends,” thought his father. + +“I could be kind to her, you know,” the mother went on, “and teach her +housework, and how to handle a baby; and, besides, she would help +me, and I should be the stronger for it, and able to do an odd bit of +charing now and then, when I got the chance.” + +“I won't hear of that,” said her husband. “Have the girl by all means. +I'm ashamed I did not think of both sides of the thing at once. I wonder +if the horse is a great eater. To be sure, if I gave Diamond two hours' +additional rest, it would be all the better for the old bones of him, +and there would be four hours extra out of the other horse. That would +give Diamond something to do every day. He could drive old Diamond after +dinner, and I could take the other horse out for six hours after tea, +or in the morning, as I found best. It might pay for the keep of both of +them,--that is, if I had good luck. I should like to oblige Mr. Raymond, +though he be rather hard, for he has been very kind to our Diamond, +wife. Hasn't he now?” + +“He has indeed, Joseph,” said his wife, and there the conversation +ended. + +Diamond's father went the very next day to Mr. Raymond, and accepted his +proposal; so that the week after having got another stall in the same +stable, he had two horses instead of one. Oddly enough, the name of the +new horse was Ruby, for he was a very red chestnut. Diamond's name came +from a white lozenge on his forehead. Young Diamond said they were rich +now, with such a big diamond and such a big ruby. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. NANNY'S DREAM + + +NANNY was not fit to be moved for some time yet, and Diamond went to see +her as often as he could. But being more regularly engaged now, seeing +he went out every day for a few hours with old Diamond, and had his baby +to mind, and one of the horses to attend to, he could not go so often as +he would have liked. + +One evening, as he sat by her bedside, she said to him: + +“I've had such a beautiful dream, Diamond! I should like to tell it +you.” + +“Oh! do,” said Diamond; “I am so fond of dreams!” + +“She must have been to the back of the north wind,” he said to himself. + +“It was a very foolish dream, you know. But somehow it was so pleasant! +What a good thing it is that you believe the dream all the time you are +in it!” + +My readers must not suppose that poor Nanny was able to say what she +meant so well as I put it down here. She had never been to school, and +had heard very little else than vulgar speech until she came to the +hospital. But I have been to school, and although that could never make +me able to dream so well as Nanny, it has made me able to tell her dream +better than she could herself. And I am the more desirous of doing this +for her that I have already done the best I could for Diamond's dream, +and it would be a shame to give the boy all the advantage. + +“I will tell you all I know about it,” said Nanny. “The day before +yesterday, a lady came to see us--a very beautiful lady, and very +beautifully dressed. I heard the matron say to her that it was very +kind of her to come in blue and gold; and she answered that she knew +we didn't like dull colours. She had such a lovely shawl on, just like +redness dipped in milk, and all worked over with flowers of the same +colour. It didn't shine much, it was silk, but it kept in the shine. +When she came to my bedside, she sat down, just where you are sitting, +Diamond, and laid her hand on the counterpane. I was sitting up, with my +table before me ready for my tea. Her hand looked so pretty in its blue +glove, that I was tempted to stroke it. I thought she wouldn't be angry, +for everybody that comes to the hospital is kind. It's only in the +streets they ain't kind. But she drew her hand away, and I almost cried, +for I thought I had been rude. Instead of that, however, it was only +that she didn't like giving me her glove to stroke, for she drew it +off, and then laid her hand where it was before. I wasn't sure, but I +ventured to put out my ugly hand.” + +“Your hand ain't ugly, Nanny,” said Diamond; but Nanny went on-- + +“And I stroked it again, and then she stroked mine,--think of that! And +there was a ring on her finger, and I looked down to see what it was +like. And she drew it off, and put it upon one of my fingers. It was a +red stone, and she told me they called it a ruby.” + +“Oh, that is funny!” said Diamond. “Our new horse is called Ruby. We've +got another horse--a red one--such a beauty!” + +But Nanny went on with her story. + +“I looked at the ruby all the time the lady was talking to me,--it was +so beautiful! And as she talked I kept seeing deeper and deeper into the +stone. At last she rose to go away, and I began to pull the ring off +my finger; and what do you think she said?--'Wear it all night, if you +like. Only you must take care of it. I can't give it you, for some one +gave it to me; but you may keep it till to-morrow.' Wasn't it kind of +her? I could hardly take my tea, I was so delighted to hear it; and I +do think it was the ring that set me dreaming; for, after I had taken my +tea, I leaned back, half lying and half sitting, and looked at the ring +on my finger. By degrees I began to dream. The ring grew larger and +larger, until at last I found that I was not looking at a red stone, but +at a red sunset, which shone in at the end of a long street near where +Grannie lives. I was dressed in rags as I used to be, and I had great +holes in my shoes, at which the nasty mud came through to my feet. I +didn't use to mind it before, but now I thought it horrid. And there was +the great red sunset, with streaks of green and gold between, standing +looking at me. Why couldn't I live in the sunset instead of in that +dirt? Why was it so far away always? Why did it never come into our +wretched street? It faded away, as the sunsets always do, and at last +went out altogether. Then a cold wind began to blow, and flutter all my +rags about----” + +“That was North Wind herself,” said Diamond. + +“Eh?” said Nanny, and went on with her story. + +“I turned my back to it, and wandered away. I did not know where I was +going, only it was warmer to go that way. I don't think it was a north +wind, for I found myself in the west end at last. But it doesn't matter +in a dream which wind it was.” + +“I don't know that,” said Diamond. “I believe North Wind can get into +our dreams--yes, and blow in them. Sometimes she has blown me out of a +dream altogether.” + +“I don't know what you mean, Diamond,” said Nanny. + +“Never mind,” answered Diamond. “Two people can't always understand each +other. They'd both be at the back of the north wind directly, and what +would become of the other places without them?” + +“You do talk so oddly!” said Nanny. “I sometimes think they must have +been right about you.” + +“What did they say about me?” asked Diamond. + +“They called you God's baby.” + +“How kind of them! But I knew that.” + +“Did you know what it meant, though? It meant that you were not right in +the head.” + +“I feel all right,” said Diamond, putting both hands to his head, as if +it had been a globe he could take off and set on again. + +“Well, as long as you are pleased I am pleased,” said Nanny. + +“Thank you, Nanny. Do go on with your story. I think I like dreams even +better than fairy tales. But they must be nice ones, like yours, you +know.” + +“Well, I went on, keeping my back to the wind, until I came to a fine +street on the top of a hill. How it happened I don't know, but the front +door of one of the houses was open, and not only the front door, but the +back door as well, so that I could see right through the house--and +what do you think I saw? A garden place with green grass, and the moon +shining upon it! Think of that! There was no moon in the street, but +through the house there was the moon. I looked and there was nobody +near: I would not do any harm, and the grass was so much nicer than the +mud! But I couldn't think of going on the grass with such dirty shoes: I +kicked them off in the gutter, and ran in on my bare feet, up the steps, +and through the house, and on to the grass; and the moment I came into +the moonlight, I began to feel better.” + +“That's why North Wind blew you there,” said Diamond. + +“It came of Mr. Raymond's story about Princess Daylight,” returned +Nanny. “Well, I lay down upon the grass in the moonlight without +thinking how I was to get out again. Somehow the moon suited me exactly. +There was not a breath of the north wind you talk about; it was quite +gone.” + +“You didn't want her any more, just then. She never goes where she's not +wanted,” said Diamond. “But she blew you into the moonlight, anyhow.” + +“Well, we won't dispute about it,” said Nanny: “you've got a tile loose, +you know.” + +“Suppose I have,” returned Diamond, “don't you see it may let in the +moonlight, or the sunlight for that matter?” + +“Perhaps yes, perhaps no,” said Nanny. + +“And you've got your dreams, too, Nanny.” + +“Yes, but I know they're dreams.” + +“So do I. But I know besides they are something more as well.” + +“Oh! do you?” rejoined Nanny. “I don't.” + +“All right,” said Diamond. “Perhaps you will some day.” + +“Perhaps I won't,” said Nanny. + +Diamond held his peace, and Nanny resumed her story. + +“I lay a long time, and the moonlight got in at every tear in my +clothes, and made me feel so happy----” + +“There, I tell you!” said Diamond. + +“What do you tell me?” returned Nanny. + +“North Wind----” + +“It was the moonlight, I tell you,” persisted Nanny, and again Diamond +held his peace. + +“All at once I felt that the moon was not shining so strong. I looked +up, and there was a cloud, all crapey and fluffy, trying to drown the +beautiful creature. But the moon was so round, just like a whole plate, +that the cloud couldn't stick to her. She shook it off, and said there +and shone out clearer and brighter than ever. But up came a thicker +cloud,--and 'You shan't,' said the moon; and 'I will,' said the +cloud,--but it couldn't: out shone the moon, quite laughing at its +impudence. I knew her ways, for I've always been used to watch her. +She's the only thing worth looking at in our street at night.” + +“Don't call it your street,” said Diamond. “You're not going back to it. +You're coming to us, you know.” + +“That's too good to be true,” said Nanny. + +“There are very few things good enough to be true,” said Diamond; “but +I hope this is. Too good to be true it can't be. Isn't true good? and +isn't good good? And how, then, can anything be too good to be true? +That's like old Sal--to say that.” + +“Don't abuse Grannie, Diamond. She's a horrid old thing, she and her gin +bottle; but she'll repent some day, and then you'll be glad not to have +said anything against her.” + +“Why?” said Diamond. + +“Because you'll be sorry for her.” + +“I am sorry for her now.” + +“Very well. That's right. She'll be sorry too. And there'll be an end of +it.” + +“All right. You come to us,” said Diamond. + +“Where was I?” said Nanny. + +“Telling me how the moon served the clouds.” + +“Yes. But it wouldn't do, all of it. Up came the clouds and the clouds, +and they came faster and faster, until the moon was covered up. You +couldn't expect her to throw off a hundred of them at once--could you?” + +“Certainly not,” said Diamond. + +“So it grew very dark; and a dog began to yelp in the house. I +looked and saw that the door to the garden was shut. Presently it was +opened--not to let me out, but to let the dog in--yelping and bounding. +I thought if he caught sight of me, I was in for a biting first, and the +police after. So I jumped up, and ran for a little summer-house in the +corner of the garden. The dog came after me, but I shut the door in his +face. It was well it had a door--wasn't it?” + +“You dreamed of the door because you wanted it,” said Diamond. + +“No, I didn't; it came of itself. It was there, in the true dream.” + +“There--I've caught you!” said Diamond. “I knew you believed in the +dream as much as I do.” + +“Oh, well, if you will lay traps for a body!” said Nanny. “Anyhow, I was +safe inside the summer-house. And what do you think?--There was the moon +beginning to shine again--but only through one of the panes--and that +one was just the colour of the ruby. Wasn't it funny?” + +“No, not a bit funny,” said Diamond. + +“If you will be contrary!” said Nanny. + +“No, no,” said Diamond; “I only meant that was the very pane I should +have expected her to shine through.” + +“Oh, very well!” returned Nanny. + +What Diamond meant, I do not pretend to say. He had curious notions +about things. + +“And now,” said Nanny, “I didn't know what to do, for the dog kept +barking at the door, and I couldn't get out. But the moon was so +beautiful that I couldn't keep from looking at it through the red pane. +And as I looked it got larger and larger till it filled the whole pane +and outgrew it, so that I could see it through the other panes; and +it grew till it filled them too and the whole window, so that the +summer-house was nearly as bright as day. + +“The dog stopped barking, and I heard a gentle tapping at the door, like +the wind blowing a little branch against it.” + +“Just like her,” said Diamond, who thought everything strange and +beautiful must be done by North Wind. + +“So I turned from the window and opened the door; and what do you think +I saw?” + +“A beautiful lady,” said Diamond. + +“No--the moon itself, as big as a little house, and as round as a ball, +shining like yellow silver. It stood on the grass--down on the very +grass: I could see nothing else for the brightness of it: And as I +stared and wondered, a door opened in the side of it, near the ground, +and a curious little old man, with a crooked thing over his shoulder, +looked out, and said: 'Come along, Nanny; my lady wants you. We're come +to fetch you.” I wasn't a bit frightened. I went up to the beautiful +bright thing, and the old man held down his hand, and I took hold of it, +and gave a jump, and he gave me a lift, and I was inside the moon. And +what do you think it was like? It was such a pretty little house, with +blue windows and white curtains! At one of the windows sat a beautiful +lady, with her head leaning on her hand, looking out. She seemed rather +sad, and I was sorry for her, and stood staring at her. + +“`You didn't think I had such a beautiful mistress as that!' said the +queer little man. `No, indeed!' I answered: `who would have thought it?' +`Ah! who indeed? But you see you don't know everything.' The little man +closed the door, and began to pull at a rope which hung behind it with +a weight at the end. After he had pulled a while, he said--`There, that +will do; we're all right now.' Then he took me by the hand and opened a +little trap in the floor, and led me down two or three steps, and I saw +like a great hole below me. `Don't be frightened,' said the tittle +man. `It's not a hole. It's only a window. Put your face down and +look through.' I did as he told me, and there was the garden and the +summer-house, far away, lying at the bottom of the moonlight. `There!' +said the little man; `we've brought you off! Do you see the little +dog barking at us down there in the garden?' I told him I couldn't see +anything so far. `Can you see anything so small and so far off?' I said. +`Bless you, child!' said the little man; `I could pick up a needle out +of the grass if I had only a long enough arm. There's one lying by the +door of the summer-house now.' I looked at his eyes. They were very +small, but so bright that I think he saw by the light that went out of +them. Then he took me up, and up again by a little stair in a corner of +the room, and through another trapdoor, and there was one great round +window above us, and I saw the blue sky and the clouds, and such lots of +stars, all so big and shining as hard as ever they could!” + +“The little girl-angels had been polishing them,” said Diamond. + +“What nonsense you do talk!” said Nanny. + +“But my nonsense is just as good as yours, Nanny. When you have done, +I'll tell you my dream. The stars are in it--not the moon, though. She +was away somewhere. Perhaps she was gone to fetch you then. I don't +think that, though, for my dream was longer ago than yours. She might +have been to fetch some one else, though; for we can't fancy it's only +us that get such fine things done for them. But do tell me what came +next.” + +Perhaps one of my child-readers may remember whether the moon came down +to fetch him or her the same night that Diamond had his dream. I cannot +tell, of course. I know she did not come to fetch me, though I did think +I could make her follow me when I was a boy--not a very tiny one either. + +“The little man took me all round the house, and made me look out of +every window. Oh, it was beautiful! There we were, all up in the air, in +such a nice, clean little house! `Your work will be to keep the windows +bright,' said the little man. `You won't find it very difficult, +for there ain't much dust up here. Only, the frost settles on them +sometimes, and the drops of rain leave marks on them.' `I can easily +clean them inside,' I said; `but how am I to get the frost and rain off +the outside of them?' `Oh!' he said, `it's quite easy. There are ladders +all about. You've only got to go out at the door, and climb about. There +are a great many windows you haven't seen yet, and some of them look +into places you don't know anything about. I used to clean them myself, +but I'm getting rather old, you see. Ain't I now?' `I can't tell,' I +answered. `You see I never saw you when you were younger.' `Never saw +the man in the moon?' said he. `Not very near,' I answered, `not to tell +how young or how old he looked. I have seen the bundle of sticks on his +back.' For Jim had pointed that out to me. Jim was very fond of looking +at the man in the moon. Poor Jim! I wonder he hasn't been to see me. I'm +afraid he's ill too.” + +“I'll try to find out,” said Diamond, “and let you know.” + +“Thank you,” said Nanny. “You and Jim ought to be friends.” + +“But what did the man in the moon say, when you told him you had seen +him with the bundle of sticks on his back?” + +“He laughed. But I thought he looked offended too. His little nose +turned up sharper, and he drew the corners of his mouth down from the +tips of his ears into his neck. But he didn't look cross, you know.” + +“Didn't he say anything?” + +“Oh, yes! He said: `That's all nonsense. What you saw was my bundle of +dusters. I was going to clean the windows. It takes a good many, you +know. Really, what they do say of their superiors down there!' `It's +only because they don't know better,' I ventured to say. `Of course, +of course,' said the little man. `Nobody ever does know better. Well, +I forgive them, and that sets it all right, I hope.' `It's very good +of you,' I said. `No!' said he, `it's not in the least good of me. I +couldn't be comfortable otherwise.' After this he said nothing for a +while, and I laid myself on the floor of his garret, and stared up and +around at the great blue beautifulness. I had forgotten him almost, +when at last he said: `Ain't you done yet?' `Done what?' I asked. `Done +saying your prayers,' says he. 'I wasn't saying my prayers,' I answered. +`Oh, yes, you were,' said he, `though you didn't know it! And now I must +show you something else.' + +“He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through a narrow +passage, and through another, and another, and another. I don't know +how there could be room for so many passages in such a little house. The +heart of it must be ever so much farther from the sides than they are +from each other. How could it have an inside that was so independent of +its outside? There's the point. It was funny--wasn't it, Diamond?” + +“No,” said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much the sort +of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked himself and only +added, “All right. I don't see it. I don't see why the inside should +depend on the outside. It ain't so with the crabs. They creep out of +their outsides and make new ones. Mr. Raymond told me so.” + +“I don't see what that has got to do with it,” said Nanny. + +“Then go on with your story, please,” said Diamond. “What did you come +to, after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the +moon?” + +“I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long and +narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners.” + +“That's worth knowing,” remarked Diamond. “For who knows how soon he may +have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?” + +“We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man +told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something +like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is +it?' I asked. `Don't you know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,' +I answered. `Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never +heard bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's +bees,' he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers. +`But where are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees gather +their honey from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. `Do let +me see them,' I said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. `I have no +business with them. I don't understand them. Besides, they are so bright +that if one were to fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.' +`Then you have seen them?' `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't +quite know: they are so very bright--like buttons of lightning. Now +I've showed you all I can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' I +followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from the +roof, and gave me some bread and honey. + +“The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her +hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white +cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I +could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very +still, and her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I +did not see her whole face--only the side of it, for she never moved to +turn it full upon me, or even to look at me. + +“How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. The +little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string +there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking +with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and +clean the windows, and I didn't fancy the job. At last he came up to me +with a great armful of dusters. `It's time you set about the windows,' +he said; `for there's rain coming, and if they're quite clean before, +then the rain can't spoil them.' I got up at once. `You needn't be +afraid,' he said. `You won't tumble off. Only you must be careful. +Always hold on with one hand while you rub with the other.' As he spoke, +he opened the door. I started back in a terrible fright, for there was +nothing but blue air to be seen under me, like a great water without a +bottom at all. But what must be must, and to live up here was so much +nicer than down in the mud with holes in my shoes, that I never thought +of not doing as I was told. The little man showed me how and where to +lay hold while I put my foot round the edge of the door on to the first +round of a ladder. `Once you're up,' he said, `you'll see how you have +to go well enough.' I did as he told me, and crept out very carefully. +Then the little man handed me the bundle of dusters, saying, `I always +carry them on my reaping hook, but I don't think you could manage it +properly. You shall have it if you like.' I wouldn't take it, however, +for it looked dangerous. + +“I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the top +of the moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars were all over my +head, so bright and so near that I could almost have laid hold of them. +The round ball to which I clung went bobbing and floating away through +the dark blue above and below and on every side. It was so beautiful +that all fear left me, and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window +after window. At length I came to a very little one, in at which I +peeped. There was the room with the box of bees in it! I laid my ear to +the window, and heard the musical hum quite distinctly. A great longing +to see them came upon me, and I opened the window and crept in. +The little box had a door like a closet. I opened it--the tiniest +crack--when out came the light with such a sting that I closed it again +in terror--not, however, before three bees had shot out into the room, +where they darted about like flashes of lightning. Terribly frightened, +I tried to get out of the window again, but I could not: there was no +way to the outside of the moon but through the door; and that was in +the room where the lady sat. No sooner had I reached the room, than the +three bees, which had followed me, flew at once to the lady, and settled +upon her hair. Then first I saw her move. She started, put up her hand, +and caught them; then rose and, having held them into the flame of the +lamp one after the other, turned to me. Her face was not so sad now as +stern. It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me into trouble,' she +said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is all I can do to +manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great loss, and there +will be a storm.' As she spoke, the clouds had gathered all about us. I +could see them come crowding up white about the windows. `I am sorry to +find,' said the lady, `that you are not to be trusted. You must go home +again--you won't do for us.' Then came a great clap of thunder, and the +moon rocked and swayed. All grew dark about me, and I fell on the floor +and lay half-stunned. I could hear everything but could see nothing. +`Shall I throw her out of the door, my lady?' said the little man. +`No,' she answered; `she's not quite bad enough for that. I don't think +there's much harm in her; only she'll never do for us. She would make +dreadful mischief up here. She's only fit for the mud. It's a great +pity. I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly +afraid she has stolen it.' The little man caught hold of my hand, and I +felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was true about it, +but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. Other things began to +come into my head. Somebody else had a hold of me. The little man wasn't +there. I opened my eyes at last, and saw the nurse. I had cried out in +my sleep, and she had come and waked me. But, Diamond, for all it was +only a dream, I cannot help being ashamed of myself yet for opening the +lady's box of bees.” + +“You wouldn't do it again--would you--if she were to take you back?” + said Diamond. + +“No. I don't think anything would ever make me do it again. But where's +the good? I shall never have the chance.” + +“I don't know that,” said Diamond. + +“You silly baby! It was only a dream,” said Nanny. + +“I know that, Nanny, dear. But how can you tell you mayn't dream it +again?” + +“That's not a bit likely.” + +“I don't know that,” said Diamond. + +“You're always saying that,” said Nanny. “I don't like it.” + +“Then I won't say it again--if I don't forget.” said Diamond. “But it +was such a beautiful dream!--wasn't it, Nanny? What a pity you opened +that door and let the bees out! You might have had such a long dream, +and such nice talks with the moon-lady. Do try to go again, Nanny. I do +so want to hear more.” + +But now the nurse came and told him it was time to go; and Diamond went, +saying to himself, “I can't help thinking that North Wind had something +to do with that dream. It would be tiresome to lie there all day and all +night too--without dreaming. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, the moon +might have carried her to the back of the north wind--who knows?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW + + +IT WAS a great delight to Diamond when at length Nanny was well enough +to leave the hospital and go home to their house. She was not very +strong yet, but Diamond's mother was very considerate of her, and took +care that she should have nothing to do she was not quite fit for. If +Nanny had been taken straight from the street, it is very probable she +would not have been so pleasant in a decent household, or so easy to +teach; but after the refining influences of her illness and the kind +treatment she had had in the hospital, she moved about the house just +like some rather sad pleasure haunting the mind. As she got better, and +the colour came back to her cheeks, her step grew lighter and quicker, +her smile shone out more readily, and it became certain that she would +soon be a treasure of help. It was great fun to see Diamond teaching +her how to hold the baby, and wash and dress him, and often they laughed +together over her awkwardness. But she had not many such lessons before +she was able to perform those duties quite as well as Diamond himself. + +Things however did not go well with Joseph from the very arrival of +Ruby. It almost seemed as if the red beast had brought ill luck with +him. The fares were fewer, and the pay less. Ruby's services did indeed +make the week's income at first a little beyond what it used to be, but +then there were two more to feed. After the first month he fell lame, +and for the whole of the next Joseph dared not attempt to work him. I +cannot say that he never grumbled, for his own health was far from what +it had been; but I can say that he tried to do his best. During all +that month, they lived on very short commons indeed, seldom tasting meat +except on Sundays, and poor old Diamond, who worked hardest of all, not +even then--so that at the end of it he was as thin as a clothes-horse, +while Ruby was as plump and sleek as a bishop's cob. + +Nor was it much better after Ruby was able to work again, for it was +a season of great depression in business, and that is very soon felt +amongst the cabmen. City men look more after their shillings, and their +wives and daughters have less to spend. It was besides a wet autumn, and +bread rose greatly in price. When I add to this that Diamond's mother +was but poorly, for a new baby was coming, you will see that these were +not very jolly times for our friends in the mews. + +Notwithstanding the depressing influences around him, Joseph was able to +keep a little hope alive in his heart; and when he came home at night, +would get Diamond to read to him, and would also make Nanny produce her +book that he might see how she was getting on. For Diamond had taken her +education in hand, and as she was a clever child, she was very soon able +to put letters and words together. + +Thus the three months passed away, but Mr. Raymond did not return. +Joseph had been looking anxiously for him, chiefly with the desire of +getting rid of Ruby--not that he was absolutely of no use to him, but +that he was a constant weight upon his mind. Indeed, as far as provision +went, he was rather worse off with Ruby and Nanny than he had been +before, but on the other hand, Nanny was a great help in the house, and +it was a comfort to him to think that when the new baby did come, Nanny +would be with his wife. + +Of God's gifts a baby is of the greatest; therefore it is no wonder that +when this one came, she was as heartily welcomed by the little household +as if she had brought plenty with her. Of course she made a great +difference in the work to be done--far more difference than her size +warranted, but Nanny was no end of help, and Diamond was as much of a +sunbeam as ever, and began to sing to the new baby the first moment he +got her in his arms. But he did not sing the same songs to her that he +had sung to his brother, for, he said, she was a new baby and must have +new songs; and besides, she was a sister-baby and not a brother-baby, +and of course would not like the same kind of songs. Where the +difference in his songs lay, however, I do not pretend to be able to +point out. One thing I am sure of, that they not only had no small share +in the education of the little girl, but helped the whole family a great +deal more than they were aware. + +How they managed to get through the long dreary expensive winter, I can +hardly say. Sometimes things were better, sometimes worse. But at last +the spring came, and the winter was over and gone, and that was much. +Still, Mr. Raymond did not return, and although the mother would have +been able to manage without Nanny now, they could not look for a place +for her so long as they had Ruby; and they were not altogether sorry for +this. One week at last was worse than they had yet had. They were almost +without bread before it was over. But the sadder he saw his father and +mother looking, the more Diamond set himself to sing to the two babies. + +One thing which had increased their expenses was that they had been +forced to hire another little room for Nanny. When the second baby came, +Diamond gave up his room that Nanny might be at hand to help his mother, +and went to hers, which, although a fine place to what she had been +accustomed to, was not very nice in his eyes. He did not mind the change +though, for was not his mother the more comfortable for it? And was +not Nanny more comfortable too? And indeed was not Diamond himself more +comfortable that other people were more comfortable? And if there was +more comfort every way, the change was a happy one. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. DIAMOND AND RUBY + + +IT WAS Friday night, and Diamond, like the rest of the household, had +had very little to eat that day. The mother would always pay the week's +rent before she laid out anything even on food. His father had been very +gloomy--so gloomy that he had actually been cross to his wife. It is +a strange thing how pain of seeing the suffering of those we love will +sometimes make us add to their suffering by being cross with them. This +comes of not having faith enough in God, and shows how necessary this +faith is, for when we lose it, we lose even the kindness which alone can +soothe the suffering. Diamond in consequence had gone to bed very quiet +and thoughtful--a little troubled indeed. + +It had been a very stormy winter, and even now that the spring had come, +the north wind often blew. When Diamond went to his bed, which was in +a tiny room in the roof, he heard it like the sea moaning; and when he +fell asleep he still heard the moaning. All at once he said to himself, +“Am I awake, or am I asleep?” But he had no time to answer the question, +for there was North Wind calling him. His heart beat very fast, it was +such a long time since he had heard that voice. He jumped out of bed, +and looked everywhere, but could not see her. “Diamond, come here,” she +said again and again; but where the here was he could not tell. To be +sure the room was all but quite dark, and she might be close beside him. + +“Dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “I want so much to go to you, but I +can't tell where.” + +“Come here, Diamond,” was all her answer. + +Diamond opened the door, and went out of the room, and down the stair +and into the yard. His little heart was in a flutter, for he had long +given up all thought of seeing her again. Neither now was he to see her. +When he got out, a great puff of wind came against him, and in obedience +to it he turned his back, and went as it blew. It blew him right up to +the stable-door, and went on blowing. + +“She wants me to go into the stable,” said Diamond to himself, “but the +door is locked.” + +He knew where the key was, in a certain hole in the wall--far too high +for him to get at. He ran to the place, however: just as he reached it +there came a wild blast, and down fell the key clanging on the stones at +his feet. He picked it up, and ran back and opened the stable-door, and +went in. And what do you think he saw? + +A little light came through the dusty window from a gas-lamp, sufficient +to show him Diamond and Ruby with their two heads up, looking at each +other across the partition of their stalls. The light showed the white +mark on Diamond's forehead, but Ruby's eye shone so bright, that he +thought more light came out of it than went in. This is what he saw. + +But what do you think he heard? + +He heard the two horses talking to each other--in a strange language, +which yet, somehow or other, he could understand, and turn over in +his mind in English. The first words he heard were from Diamond, who +apparently had been already quarrelling with Ruby. + +“Look how fat you are Ruby!” said old Diamond. “You are so plump and +your skin shines so, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” + +“There's no harm in being fat,” said Ruby in a deprecating tone. “No, +nor in being sleek. I may as well shine as not.” + +“No harm?” retorted Diamond. “Is it no harm to go eating up all poor +master's oats, and taking up so much of his time grooming you, when you +only work six hours--no, not six hours a day, and, as I hear, get along +no faster than a big dray-horse with two tons behind him?--So they tell +me.” + +“Your master's not mine,” said Ruby. “I must attend to my own master's +interests, and eat all that is given me, and be sleek and fat as I can, +and go no faster than I need.” + +“Now really if the rest of the horses weren't all asleep, poor +things--they work till they're tired--I do believe they would get up and +kick you out of the stable. You make me ashamed of being a horse. You +dare to say my master ain't your master! That's your gratitude for the +way he feeds you and spares you! Pray where would your carcass be if it +weren't for him?” + +“He doesn't do it for my sake. If I were his own horse, he would work me +as hard as he does you.” + +“And I'm proud to be so worked. I wouldn't be as fat as you--not for all +you're worth. You're a disgrace to the stable. Look at the horse next +you. He's something like a horse--all skin and bone. And his master +ain't over kind to him either. He put a stinging lash on his whip +last week. But that old horse knows he's got the wife and children +to keep--as well as his drunken master--and he works like a horse. I +daresay he grudges his master the beer he drinks, but I don't believe he +grudges anything else.” + +“Well, I don't grudge yours what he gets by me,” said Ruby. + +“Gets!” retorted Diamond. “What he gets isn't worth grudging. It comes +to next to nothing--what with your fat and shine. + +“Well, at least you ought to be thankful you're the better for it. You +get a two hours' rest a day out of it.” + +“I thank my master for that--not you, you lazy fellow! You go along like +a buttock of beef upon castors--you do.” + +“Ain't you afraid I'll kick, if you go on like that, Diamond?” + +“Kick! You couldn't kick if you tried. You might heave your rump up +half a foot, but for lashing out--oho! If you did, you'd be down on your +belly before you could get your legs under you again. It's my belief, +once out, they'd stick out for ever. Talk of kicking! Why don't you put +one foot before the other now and then when you're in the cab? The abuse +master gets for your sake is quite shameful. No decent horse would bring +it on him. Depend upon it, Ruby, no cabman likes to be abused any more +than his fare. But his fares, at least when you are between the shafts, +are very much to be excused. Indeed they are.” + +“Well, you see, Diamond, I don't want to go lame again.” + +“I don't believe you were so very lame after all--there!” + +“Oh, but I was.” + +“Then I believe it was all your own fault. I'm not lame. I never was +lame in all my life. You don't take care of your legs. You never lay +them down at night. There you are with your huge carcass crushing down +your poor legs all night long. You don't even care for your own legs--so +long as you can eat, eat, and sleep, sleep. You a horse indeed!” + +“But I tell you I was lame.” + +“I'm not denying there was a puffy look about your off-pastern. But my +belief is, it wasn't even grease--it was fat.” + +“I tell you I put my foot on one of those horrid stones they make the +roads with, and it gave my ankle such a twist.” + +“Ankle indeed! Why should you ape your betters? Horses ain't got any +ankles: they're only pasterns. And so long as you don't lift your feet +better, but fall asleep between every step, you'll run a good chance +of laming all your ankles as you call them, one after another. It's not +your lively horse that comes to grief in that way. I tell you I believe +it wasn't much, and if it was, it was your own fault. There! I've done. +I'm going to sleep. I'll try to think as well of you as I can. If you +would but step out a bit and run off a little of your fat!” Here Diamond +began to double up his knees; but Ruby spoke again, and, as young +Diamond thought, in a rather different tone. + +“I say, Diamond, I can't bear to have an honest old horse like you think +of me like that. I will tell you the truth: it was my own fault that I +fell lame.” + +“I told you so,” returned the other, tumbling against the partition as +he rolled over on his side to give his legs every possible privilege in +their narrow circumstances. + +“I meant to do it, Diamond.” + +At the words, the old horse arose with a scramble like thunder, shot his +angry head and glaring eye over into Ruby's stall, and said-- + +“Keep out of my way, you unworthy wretch, or I'll bite you. You a horse! +Why did you do that?” + +“Because I wanted to grow fat.” + +“You grease-tub! Oh! my teeth and tail! I thought you were a humbug! Why +did you want to get fat? There's no truth to be got out of you but by +cross-questioning. You ain't fit to be a horse.” + +“Because once I am fat, my nature is to keep fat for a long time; and I +didn't know when master might come home and want to see me.” + +“You conceited, good-for-nothing brute! You're only fit for the +knacker's yard. You wanted to look handsome, did you? Hold your tongue, +or I'll break my halter and be at you--with your handsome fat!” + +“Never mind, Diamond. You're a good horse. You can't hurt me.” + +“Can't hurt you! Just let me once try.” + +“No, you can't.” + +“Why then?” + +“Because I'm an angel.” + +“What's that?” + +“Of course you don't know.” + +“Indeed I don't.” + +“I know you don't. An ignorant, rude old human horse, like you, couldn't +know it. But there's young Diamond listening to all we're saying; and he +knows well enough there are horses in heaven for angels to ride upon, +as well as other animals, lions and eagles and bulls, in more important +situations. The horses the angels ride, must be angel-horses, else the +angels couldn't ride upon them. Well, I'm one of them.” + +“You ain't.” + +“Did you ever know a horse tell a lie?” + +“Never before. But you've confessed to shamming lame.” + +“Nothing of the sort. It was necessary I should grow fat, and necessary +that good Joseph, your master, should grow lean. I could have pretended +to be lame, but that no horse, least of all an angel-horse would do. So +I must be lame, and so I sprained my ankle--for the angel-horses have +ankles--they don't talk horse-slang up there--and it hurt me very much, +I assure you, Diamond, though you mayn't be good enough to be able to +believe it.” + +Old Diamond made no reply. He had lain down again, and a sleepy snort, +very like a snore, revealed that, if he was not already asleep, he was +past understanding a word that Ruby was saying. When young Diamond found +this, he thought he might venture to take up the dropt shuttlecock of +the conversation. + +“I'm good enough to believe it, Ruby,” he said. + +But Ruby never turned his head, or took any notice of him. I suppose +he did not understand more of English than just what the coachman and +stableman were in the habit of addressing him with. Finding, however, +that his companion made no reply, he shot his head over the partition +and looking down at him said-- + +“You just wait till to-morrow, and you'll see whether I'm speaking the +truth or not.--I declare the old horse is fast asleep!--Diamond!--No I +won't.” + +Ruby turned away, and began pulling at his hayrack in silence. + +Diamond gave a shiver, and looking round saw that the door of the stable +was open. He began to feel as if he had been dreaming, and after a +glance about the stable to see if North Wind was anywhere visible, he +thought he had better go back to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS + + +THE next morning, Diamond's mother said to his father, “I'm not quite +comfortable about that child again.” + +“Which child, Martha?” asked Joseph. “You've got a choice now.” + +“Well, Diamond I mean. I'm afraid he's getting into his queer ways +again. He's been at his old trick of walking in his sleep. I saw him run +up the stair in the middle of the night.” + +“Didn't you go after him, wife?” + +“Of course I did--and found him fast asleep in his bed. It's because +he's had so little meat for the last six weeks, I'm afraid.” + +“It may be that. I'm very sorry. But if it don't please God to send us +enough, what am I to do, wife?” + +“You can't help it, I know, my dear good man,” returned Martha. “And +after all I don't know. I don't see why he shouldn't get on as well as +the rest of us. There I'm nursing baby all this time, and I get along +pretty well. I'm sure, to hear the little man singing, you wouldn't +think there was much amiss with him.” + +For at that moment Diamond was singing like a lark in the clouds. He had +the new baby in his arms, while his mother was dressing herself. Joseph +was sitting at his breakfast--a little weak tea, dry bread, and very +dubious butter--which Nanny had set for him, and which he was enjoying +because he was hungry. He had groomed both horses, and had got old +Diamond harnessed ready to put to. + +“Think of a fat angel, Dulcimer!” said Diamond. + +The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading his Bible, +had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty that ever +after he called his sister Dulcimer! + +“Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!” he repeated; “for Ruby's an angel +of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat on purpose.” + +“What purpose, Diamond?” asked his father. + +“Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his master +comes,” answered Diamond.--“What do you think, Dulcimer? It must be for +some good, for Ruby's an angel.” + +“I wish I were rid of him, anyhow,” said his father; “for he weighs +heavy on my mind.” + +“No wonder, father: he's so fat,” said Diamond. “But you needn't be +afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you had +him.” + +“Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. It +was too bad to leave him on my hands this way.” + +“Perhaps he couldn't help it,” suggested Diamond. “I daresay he has some +good reason for it.” + +“So I should have said,” returned his father, “if he had not driven such +a hard bargain with me at first.” + +“But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband,” said his wife. +“Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of the +bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon.” + +“I'm afraid not: he's a hard man,” said Joseph, as he rose and went to +get his cab out. + +Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches of +everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something like +what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it. + + + Where did you come from, baby dear? + Out of the everywhere into here. + + Where did you get your eyes so blue? + Out of the sky as I came through. + + What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? + Some of the starry spikes left in. + + Where did you get that little tear? + I found it waiting when I got here. + + What makes your forehead so smooth and high? + A soft hand stroked it as I went by. + + What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? + I saw something better than any one knows. + + Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? + Three angels gave me at once a kiss. + + Where did you get this pearly ear? + God spoke, and it came out to hear. + + Where did you get those arms and hands? + Love made itself into hooks and bands. + + Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? + From the same box as the cherubs' wings. + + How did they all just come to be you? + God thought about me, and so I grew. + + But how did you come to us, you dear? + God thought about you, and so I am here. + +“You never made that song, Diamond,” said his mother. + +“No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don't. That would be to take it from +somebody else. But it's mine for all that.” + +“What makes it yours?” + +“I love it so.” + +“Does loving a thing make it yours?” + +“I think so, mother--at least more than anything else can. If I didn't +love baby (which couldn't be, you know) she wouldn't be mine a bit. But +I do love baby, and baby is my very own Dulcimer.” + +“The baby's mine, Diamond.” + +“That makes her the more mine, mother.” + +“How do you make that out?” + +“Because you're mine, mother.” + +“Is that because you love me?” + +“Yes, just because. Love makes the only myness,” said Diamond. + +When his father came home to have his dinner, and change Diamond for +Ruby, they saw him look very sad, and he told them he had not had a fare +worth mentioning the whole morning. + +“We shall all have to go to the workhouse, wife,” he said. + +“It would be better to go to the back of the north wind,” said Diamond, +dreamily, not intending to say it aloud. + +“So it would,” answered his father. “But how are we to get there, +Diamond?” + +“We must wait till we're taken,” returned Diamond. + +Before his father could speak again, a knock came to the door, and in +walked Mr. Raymond with a smile on his face. Joseph got up and received +him respectfully, but not very cordially. Martha set a chair for him, +but he would not sit down. + +“You are not very glad to see me,” he said to Joseph. “You don't want to +part with the old horse.” + +“Indeed, sir, you are mistaken there. What with anxiety about him, and +bad luck, I've wished I were rid of him a thousand times. It was only to +be for three months, and here it's eight or nine.” + +“I'm sorry to hear such a statement,” said Mr. Raymond. “Hasn't he been +of service to you?” + +“Not much, not with his lameness” + +“Ah!” said Mr. Raymond, hastily--“you've been laming him--have you? That +accounts for it. I see, I see.” + +“It wasn't my fault, and he's all right now. I don't know how it +happened, but--” + +“He did it on purpose,” said Diamond. “He put his foot on a stone just +to twist his ankle.” + +“How do you know that, Diamond?” said his father, turning to him. “I +never said so, for I could not think how it came.” + +“I heard it--in the stable,” answered Diamond. + +“Let's have a look at him,” said Mr. Raymond. + +“If you'll step into the yard,” said Joseph, “I'll bring him out.” + +They went, and Joseph, having first taken off his harness, walked Ruby +into the middle of the yard. + +“Why,” said Mr. Raymond, “you've not been using him well.” + +“I don't know what you mean by that, sir. I didn't expect to hear that +from you. He's sound in wind and limb--as sound as a barrel.” + +“And as big, you might add. Why, he's as fat as a pig! You don't call +that good usage!” + +Joseph was too angry to make any answer. + +“You've not worked him enough, I say. That's not making good use of him. +That's not doing as you'd be done by.” + +“I shouldn't be sorry if I was served the same, sir.” + +“He's too fat, I say.” + +“There was a whole month I couldn't work him at all, and he did nothing +but eat his head off. He's an awful eater. I've taken the best part of +six hours a day out of him since, but I'm always afraid of his coming to +grief again, and so I couldn't make the most even of that. I declare to +you, sir, when he's between the shafts, I sit on the box as miserable as +if I'd stolen him. He looks all the time as if he was a bottling up of +complaints to make of me the minute he set eyes on you again. There! +look at him now, squinting round at me with one eye! I declare to you, +on my word, I haven't laid the whip on him more than three times.” + +“I'm glad to hear it. He never did want the whip.” + +“I didn't say that, sir. If ever a horse wanted the whip, he do. He's +brought me to beggary almost with his snail's pace. I'm very glad you've +come to rid me of him.” + +“I don't know that,” said Mr. Raymond. “Suppose I were to ask you to buy +him of me--cheap.” + +“I wouldn't have him in a present, sir. I don't like him. And I wouldn't +drive a horse that I didn't like--no, not for gold. It can't come to +good where there's no love between 'em.” + +“Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair +they'd make.” + +Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond. + +When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could hardly keep +his countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. Beside the great, +red, round barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, Diamond looked like a +clothes-horse with a skin thrown over it. There was hardly a spot of +him where you could not descry some sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and +grim and weary he stood, kissing his master, and heeding no one else. + +“You haven't been using him well,” said Mr. Raymond. + +“I must say,” returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse's neck, +“that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse is worth +three of the other now.” + +“I don't think so. I think they make a very nice pair. If the one's too +fat, the other's too lean--so that's all right. And if you won't buy my +Ruby, I must buy your Diamond.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks. + +“You don't seem to like the proposal,” said Mr. Raymond. + +“I don't,” returned Joseph. “I wouldn't part with my old Diamond for his +skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones.” + +“Who said anything about parting with him?” + +“You did now, sir.” + +“No; I didn't. I only spoke of buying him to make a pair with Ruby. We +could pare Ruby and patch Diamond a bit. And for height, they are as +near a match as I care about. Of course you would be the coachman--if +only you would consent to be reconciled to Ruby.” + +Joseph stood bewildered, unable to answer. + +“I've bought a small place in Kent,” continued Mr. Raymond, “and I must +have a pair to my carriage, for the roads are hilly thereabouts. I don't +want to make a show with a pair of high-steppers. I think these will +just do. Suppose, for a week or two, you set yourself to take Ruby down +and bring Diamond up. If we could only lay a pipe from Ruby's sides into +Diamond's, it would be the work of a moment. But I fear that wouldn't +answer.” + +A strong inclination to laugh intruded upon Joseph's inclination to cry, +and made speech still harder than before. + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said at length. “I've been so miserable, +and for so long, that I never thought you was only a chaffing of me +when you said I hadn't used the horses well. I did grumble at you, sir, +many's the time in my trouble; but whenever I said anything, my little +Diamond would look at me with a smile, as much as to say: 'I know him +better than you, father;' and upon my word, I always thought the boy +must be right.” + +“Will you sell me old Diamond, then?” + +“I will, sir, on one condition--that if ever you want to part with him +or me, you give me the option of buying him. I could not part with him, +sir. As to who calls him his, that's nothing; for, as Diamond says, it's +only loving a thing that can make it yours--and I do love old Diamond, +sir, dearly.” + +“Well, there's a cheque for twenty pounds, which I wrote to offer you +for him, in case I should find you had done the handsome thing by Ruby. +Will that be enough?” + +“It's too much, sir. His body ain't worth it--shoes and all. It's only +his heart, sir--that's worth millions--but his heart'll be mine all the +same--so it's too much, sir.” + +“I don't think so. It won't be, at least, by the time we've got him +fed up again. You take it and welcome. Just go on with your cabbing for +another month, only take it out of Ruby and let Diamond rest; and by +that time I shall be ready for you to go down into the country.” + +“Thank you, sir, thank you. Diamond set you down for a friend, sir, the +moment he saw you. I do believe that child of mine knows more than other +people.” + +“I think so, too,” said Mr. Raymond as he walked away. + +He had meant to test Joseph when he made the bargain about Ruby, but had +no intention of so greatly prolonging the trial. He had been taken ill +in Switzerland, and had been quite unable to return sooner. He went away +now highly gratified at finding that he had stood the test, and was a +true man. + +Joseph rushed in to his wife who had been standing at the window +anxiously waiting the result of the long colloquy. When she heard that +the horses were to go together in double harness, she burst forth into +an immoderate fit of laughter. Diamond came up with the baby in his arms +and made big anxious eyes at her, saying-- + +“What is the matter with you, mother dear? Do cry a little. It will do +you good. When father takes ever so small a drop of spirits, he puts +water to it.” + +“You silly darling!” said his mother; “how could I but laugh at the +notion of that great fat Ruby going side by side with our poor old +Diamond?” + +“But why not, mother? With a month's oats, and nothing to do, Diamond'll +be nearer Ruby's size than you will father's. I think it's very good for +different sorts to go together. Now Ruby will have a chance of teaching +Diamond better manners.” + +“How dare you say such a thing, Diamond?” said his father, angrily. +“To compare the two for manners, there's no comparison possible. Our +Diamond's a gentleman.” + +“I don't mean to say he isn't, father; for I daresay some gentlemen +judge their neighbours unjustly. That's all I mean. Diamond shouldn't +have thought such bad things of Ruby. He didn't try to make the best of +him.” + +“How do you know that, pray?” + +“I heard them talking about it one night.” + +“Who?” + +“Why Diamond and Ruby. Ruby's an angel.” + +Joseph stared and said no more. For all his new gladness, he was very +gloomy as he re-harnessed the angel, for he thought his darling Diamond +was going out of his mind. + +He could not help thinking rather differently, however, when he found +the change that had come over Ruby. Considering his fat, he exerted +himself amazingly, and got over the ground with incredible speed. So +willing, even anxious, was he to go now, that Joseph had to hold him +quite tight. + +Then as he laughed at his own fancies, a new fear came upon him lest the +horse should break his wind, and Mr. Raymond have good cause to think +he had not been using him well. He might even suppose that he had taken +advantage of his new instructions, to let out upon the horse some of his +pent-up dislike; whereas in truth, it had so utterly vanished that he +felt as if Ruby, too, had been his friend all the time. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. IN THE COUNTRY + + +BEFORE the end of the month, Ruby had got respectably thin, and Diamond +respectably stout. They really began to look fit for double harness. + +Joseph and his wife got their affairs in order, and everything ready for +migrating at the shortest notice; and they felt so peaceful and happy +that they judged all the trouble they had gone through well worth +enduring. As for Nanny, she had been so happy ever since she left the +hospital, that she expected nothing better, and saw nothing attractive +in the notion of the country. At the same time, she had not the least +idea of what the word country meant, for she had never seen anything +about her but streets and gas-lamps. Besides, she was more attached to +Jim than to Diamond: Jim was a reasonable being, Diamond in her eyes at +best only an amiable, over-grown baby, whom no amount of expostulation +would ever bring to talk sense, not to say think it. Now that she +could manage the baby as well as he, she judged herself altogether his +superior. Towards his father and mother, she was all they could wish. + +Diamond had taken a great deal of pains and trouble to find Jim, and had +at last succeeded through the help of the tall policeman, who was glad +to renew his acquaintance with the strange child. Jim had moved his +quarters, and had not heard of Nanny's illness till some time after she +was taken to the hospital, where he was too shy to go and inquire about +her. But when at length she went to live with Diamond's family, Jim was +willing enough to go and see her. It was after one of his visits, during +which they had been talking of her new prospects, that Nanny expressed +to Diamond her opinion of the country. + +“There ain't nothing in it but the sun and moon, Diamond.” + +“There's trees and flowers,” said Diamond. + +“Well, they ain't no count,” returned Nanny. + +“Ain't they? They're so beautiful, they make you happy to look at them.” + +“That's because you're such a silly.” + +Diamond smiled with a far-away look, as if he were gazing through clouds +of green leaves and the vision contented him. But he was thinking with +himself what more he could do for Nanny; and that same evening he went +to find Mr. Raymond, for he had heard that he had returned to town. + +“Ah! how do you do, Diamond?” said Mr. Raymond; “I am glad to see you.” + +And he was indeed, for he had grown very fond of him. His opinion of him +was very different from Nanny's. + +“What do you want now, my child?” he asked. + +“I'm always wanting something, sir,” answered Diamond. + +“Well, that's quite right, so long as what you want is right. Everybody +is always wanting something; only we don't mention it in the right place +often enough. What is it now?” + +“There's a friend of Nanny's, a lame boy, called Jim.” + +“I've heard of him,” said Mr. Raymond. “Well?” + +“Nanny doesn't care much about going to the country, sir.” + +“Well, what has that to do with Jim?” + +“You couldn't find a corner for Jim to work in--could you, sir?” + +“I don't know that I couldn't. That is, if you can show good reason for +it.” + +“He's a good boy, sir.” + +“Well, so much the better for him.” + +“I know he can shine boots, sir.” + +“So much the better for us.” + +“You want your boots shined in the country--don't you, sir?” + +“Yes, to be sure.” + +“It wouldn't be nice to walk over the flowers with dirty boots--would +it, sir?” + +“No, indeed.” + +“They wouldn't like it--would they?” + +“No, they wouldn't.” + +“Then Nanny would be better pleased to go, sir.” + +“If the flowers didn't like dirty boots to walk over them, Nanny +wouldn't mind going to the country? Is that it? I don't quite see it.” + +“No, sir; I didn't mean that. I meant, if you would take Jim with you to +clean your boots, and do odd jobs, you know, sir, then Nanny would like +it better. She's so fond of Jim!” + +“Now you come to the point, Diamond. I see what you mean, exactly. I +will turn it over in my mind. Could you bring Jim to see me?” + +“I'll try, sir. But they don't mind me much. They think I'm silly,” + added Diamond, with one of his sweetest smiles. + +What Mr. Raymond thought, I dare hardly attempt to put down here. But +one part of it was, that the highest wisdom must ever appear folly to +those who do not possess it. + +“I think he would come though--after dark, you know,” Diamond continued. +“He does well at shining boots. People's kind to lame boys, you know, +sir. But after dark, there ain't so much doing.” + +Diamond succeeded in bringing Jim to Mr. Raymond, and the consequence +was that he resolved to give the boy a chance. He provided new clothes +for both him and Nanny; and upon a certain day, Joseph took his wife and +three children, and Nanny and Jim, by train to a certain station in the +county of Kent, where they found a cart waiting to carry them and their +luggage to The Mound, which was the name of Mr. Raymond's new residence. +I will not describe the varied feelings of the party as they went, or +when they arrived. All I will say is, that Diamond, who is my only care, +was full of quiet delight--a gladness too deep to talk about. + +Joseph returned to town the same night, and the next morning drove Ruby +and Diamond down, with the carriage behind them, and Mr. Raymond and a +lady in the carriage. For Mr. Raymond was an old bachelor no longer: he +was bringing his wife with him to live at The Mound. The moment Nanny +saw her, she recognised her as the lady who had lent her the ruby-ring. +That ring had been given her by Mr. Raymond. + +The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not a +great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn, and the +most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves, because +if they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun for them. So +they have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed again by the time +the trees are dressed. But there was plenty of the loveliest grass and +daisies about the house, and Diamond's chief pleasure seemed to be to +lie amongst them, and breathe the pure air. But all the time, he was +dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind, and trying to +recall the songs the river used to sing. For this was more like being at +the back of the north wind than anything he had known since he left it. +Sometimes he would have his little brother, sometimes his little sister, +and sometimes both of them in the grass with him, and then he felt just +like a cat with her first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr--all +he could do was to sing. + +These were very different times from those when he used to drive the +cab, but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle. He did not do so +much for his mother now, because Nanny occupied his former place; but +he helped his father still, both in the stable and the harness-room, and +generally went with him on the box that he might learn to drive a pair, +and be ready to open the carriage-door. Mr. Raymond advised his father +to give him plenty of liberty. + +“A boy like that,” he said, “ought not to be pushed.” + +Joseph assented heartily, smiling to himself at the idea of pushing +Diamond. After doing everything that fell to his share, the boy had a +wealth of time at his disposal. And a happy, sometimes a merry time it +was. Only for two months or so, he neither saw nor heard anything of +North Wind. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. I MAKE DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE + + +MR. RAYMOND'S house was called The Mound, because it stood upon a little +steep knoll, so smooth and symmetrical that it showed itself at once to +be artificial. It had, beyond doubt, been built for Queen Elizabeth as a +hunting tower--a place, namely, from the top of which you could see the +country for miles on all sides, and so be able to follow with your eyes +the flying deer and the pursuing hounds and horsemen. The mound had been +cast up to give a good basement-advantage over the neighbouring heights +and woods. There was a great quarry-hole not far off, brim-full of +water, from which, as the current legend stated, the materials forming +the heart of the mound--a kind of stone unfit for building--had been +dug. The house itself was of brick, and they said the foundations were +first laid in the natural level, and then the stones and earth of the +mound were heaped about and between them, so that its great height +should be well buttressed. + +Joseph and his wife lived in a little cottage a short way from the +house. It was a real cottage, with a roof of thick thatch, which, in +June and July, the wind sprinkled with the red and white petals it shook +from the loose topmost sprays of the rose-trees climbing the walls. At +first Diamond had a nest under this thatch--a pretty little room with +white muslin curtains, but afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Raymond wanted to +have him for a page in the house, and his father and mother were quite +pleased to have him employed without his leaving them. So he was dressed +in a suit of blue, from which his pale face and fair hair came out like +the loveliest blossom, and took up his abode in the house. + +“Would you be afraid to sleep alone, Diamond?” asked his mistress. + +“I don't know what you mean, ma'am,” said Diamond. “I never was afraid +of anything that I can recollect--not much, at least.” + +“There's a little room at the top of the house--all alone,” she +returned; “perhaps you would not mind sleeping there?” + +“I can sleep anywhere, and I like best to be high up. Should I be able +to see out?” + +“I will show you the place,” she answered; and taking him by the hand, +she led him up and up the oval-winding stair in one of the two towers. + +Near the top they entered a tiny little room, with two windows from +which you could see over the whole country. Diamond clapped his hands +with delight. + +“You would like this room, then, Diamond?” said his mistress. + +“It's the grandest room in the house,” he answered. “I shall be near the +stars, and yet not far from the tops of the trees. That's just what I +like.” + +I daresay he thought, also, that it would be a nice place for North +Wind to call at in passing; but he said nothing of that sort. Below him +spread a lake of green leaves, with glimpses of grass here and there at +the bottom of it. As he looked down, he saw a squirrel appear suddenly, +and as suddenly vanish amongst the topmost branches. + +“Aha! little squirrel,” he cried, “my nest is built higher than yours.” + +“You can be up here with your books as much as you like,” said his +mistress. “I will have a little bell hung at the door, which I can ring +when I want you. Half-way down the stair is the drawing-room.” + +So Diamond was installed as page, and his new room got ready for him. + +It was very soon after this that I came to know Diamond. I was then a +tutor in a family whose estate adjoined the little property belonging +to The Mound. I had made the acquaintance of Mr. Raymond in London some +time before, and was walking up the drive towards the house to call upon +him one fine warm evening, when I saw Diamond for the first time. He was +sitting at the foot of a great beech-tree, a few yards from the road, +with a book on his knees. He did not see me. I walked up behind +the tree, and peeping over his shoulder, saw that he was reading a +fairy-book. + +“What are you reading?” I said, and spoke suddenly, with the hope of +seeing a startled little face look round at me. Diamond turned his +head as quietly as if he were only obeying his mother's voice, and the +calmness of his face rebuked my unkind desire and made me ashamed of it. + +“I am reading the story of the Little Lady and the Goblin Prince,” said +Diamond. + +“I am sorry I don't know the story,” I returned. “Who is it by?” + +“Mr. Raymond made it.” + +“Is he your uncle?” I asked at a guess. + +“No. He's my master.” + +“What do you do for him?” I asked respectfully. + +“Anything he wishes me to do,” he answered. “I am busy for him now. He +gave me this story to read. He wants my opinion upon it.” + +“Don't you find it rather hard to make up your mind?” + +“Oh dear no! Any story always tells me itself what I'm to think about +it. Mr. Raymond doesn't want me to say whether it is a clever story or +not, but whether I like it, and why I like it. I never can tell what +they call clever from what they call silly, but I always know whether I +like a story or not.” + +“And can you always tell why you like it or not?” + +“No. Very often I can't at all. Sometimes I can. I always know, but I +can't always tell why. Mr. Raymond writes the stories, and then tries +them on me. Mother does the same when she makes jam. She's made such a +lot of jam since we came here! And she always makes me taste it to see +if it'll do. Mother knows by the face I make whether it will or not.” + +At this moment I caught sight of two more children approaching. One was +a handsome girl, the other a pale-faced, awkward-looking boy, who limped +much on one leg. I withdrew a little, to see what would follow, for they +seemed in some consternation. After a few hurried words, they went +off together, and I pursued my way to the house, where I was as kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Raymond as I could have desired. From them I +learned something of Diamond, and was in consequence the more glad to +find him, when I returned, seated in the same place as before. + +“What did the boy and girl want with you, Diamond?” I asked. + +“They had seen a creature that frightened them.” + +“And they came to tell you about it?” + +“They couldn't get water out of the well for it. So they wanted me to go +with them.” + +“They're both bigger than you.” + +“Yes, but they were frightened at it.” + +“And weren't you frightened at it?” + +“No.” + +“Why?” + +“Because I'm silly. I'm never frightened at things.” + +I could not help thinking of the old meaning of the word silly. + +“And what was it?” I asked. + +“I think it was a kind of an angel--a very little one. It had a long +body and great wings, which it drove about it so fast that they grew a +thin cloud all round it. It flew backwards and forwards over the well, +or hung right in the middle, making a mist of its wings, as if its +business was to take care of the water.” + +“And what did you do to drive it away?” + +“I didn't drive it away. I knew, whatever the creature was, the well +was to get water out of. So I took the jug, dipped it in, and drew the +water.” + +“And what did the creature do?” + +“Flew about.” + +“And it didn't hurt you?” + +“No. Why should it? I wasn't doing anything wrong.” + +“What did your companions say then?” + +“They said--`Thank you, Diamond. What a dear silly you are!'” + +“And weren't you angry with them?” + +“No! Why should I? I should like if they would play with me a little; +but they always like better to go away together when their work is over. +They never heed me. I don't mind it much, though. The other creatures +are friendly. They don't run away from me. Only they're all so busy with +their own work, they don't mind me much.” + +“Do you feel lonely, then?” + +“Oh, no! When nobody minds me, I get into my nest, and look up. And then +the sky does mind me, and thinks about me.” + +“Where is your nest?” + +He rose, saying, “I will show you,” and led me to the other side of the +tree. + +There hung a little rope-ladder from one of the lower boughs. The boy +climbed up the ladder and got upon the bough. Then he climbed farther +into the leafy branches, and went out of sight. + +After a little while, I heard his voice coming down out of the tree. + +“I am in my nest now,” said the voice. + +“I can't see you,” I returned. + +“I can't see you either, but I can see the first star peeping out of the +sky. I should like to get up into the sky. Don't you think I shall, some +day?” + +“Yes, I do. Tell me what more you see up there.” + +“I don't see anything more, except a few leaves, and the big sky over +me. It goes swinging about. The earth is all behind my back. There comes +another star! The wind is like kisses from a big lady. When I get up +here I feel as if I were in North Wind's arms.” + +This was the first I heard of North Wind. + +The whole ways and look of the child, so full of quiet wisdom, yet so +ready to accept the judgment of others in his own dispraise, took hold +of my heart, and I felt myself wonderfully drawn towards him. It seemed +to me, somehow, as if little Diamond possessed the secret of life, and +was himself what he was so ready to think the lowest living thing--an +angel of God with something special to say or do. A gush of reverence +came over me, and with a single goodnight, I turned and left him in his +nest. + +I saw him often after this, and gained so much of his confidence that he +told me all I have told you. I cannot pretend to account for it. I leave +that for each philosophical reader to do after his own fashion. The +easiest way is that of Nanny and Jim, who said often to each other +that Diamond had a tile loose. But Mr. Raymond was much of my opinion +concerning the boy; while Mrs. Raymond confessed that she often rang her +bell just to have once more the pleasure of seeing the lovely stillness +of the boy's face, with those blue eyes which seemed rather made for +other people to look into than for himself to look out of. + +It was plainer to others than to himself that he felt the desertion of +Nanny and Jim. They appeared to regard him as a mere toy, except when +they found he could minister to the scruple of using him--generally with +success. They were, however, well-behaved to a wonderful degree; while +I have little doubt that much of their good behaviour was owing to the +unconscious influence of the boy they called God's baby. + +One very strange thing is that I could never find out where he got some +of his many songs. At times they would be but bubbles blown out of a +nursery rhyme, as was the following, which I heard him sing one evening +to his little Dulcimer. There were about a score of sheep feeding in a +paddock near him, their white wool dyed a pale rose in the light of the +setting sun. Those in the long shadows from the trees were dead white; +those in the sunlight were half glorified with pale rose. + + + Little Bo Peep, she lost her sheep, + And didn't know where to find them; + They were over the height and out of sight, + Trailing their tails behind them. + + Little Bo Peep woke out of her sleep, + Jump'd up and set out to find them: + “The silly things, they've got no wings, + And they've left their trails behind them: + + “They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails, + And so I shall follow and find them;” + For wherever a tail had dragged a trail, + The long grass grew behind them. + + And day's eyes and butter-cups, cow's lips and crow's feet + Were glittering in the sun. + She threw down her book, and caught up her crook, + And after her sheep did run. + + She ran, and she ran, and ever as she ran, + The grass grew higher and higher; + Till over the hill the sun began + To set in a flame of fire. + + She ran on still--up the grassy hill, + And the grass grew higher and higher; + When she reached its crown, the sun was down, + And had left a trail of fire. + + The sheep and their tails were gone, all gone-- + And no more trail behind them! + Yes, yes! they were there--long-tailed and fair, + But, alas! she could not find them. + + Purple and gold, and rosy and blue, + With their tails all white behind them, + Her sheep they did run in the trail of the sun; + She saw them, but could not find them. + + After the sun, like clouds they did run, + But she knew they were her sheep: + She sat down to cry, and look up at the sky, + But she cried herself asleep. + + And as she slept the dew fell fast, + And the wind blew from the sky; + And strange things took place that shun the day's face, + Because they are sweet and shy. + + Nibble, nibble, crop! she heard as she woke: + A hundred little lambs + Did pluck and eat the grass so sweet + That grew in the trails of their dams. + + Little Bo Peep caught up her crook, + And wiped the tears that did blind her. + And nibble, nibble crop! without a stop! + The lambs came eating behind her. + + Home, home she came, both tired and lame, + With three times as many sheep. + In a month or more, they'll be as big as before, + And then she'll laugh in her sleep. + + But what would you say, if one fine day, + When they've got their bushiest tails, + Their grown up game should be just the same, + And she have to follow their trails? + + Never weep, Bo Peep, though you lose your sheep, + And do not know where to find them; + 'Tis after the sun the mothers have run, + And there are their lambs behind them. + +I confess again to having touched up a little, but it loses far more +in Diamond's sweet voice singing it than it gains by a rhyme here and +there. + +Some of them were out of books Mr. Raymond had given him. These he +always knew, but about the others he could seldom tell. Sometimes he +would say, “I made that one.” but generally he would say, “I don't know; +I found it somewhere;” or “I got it at the back of the north wind.” + +One evening I found him sitting on the grassy slope under the house, +with his Dulcimer in his arms and his little brother rolling on the +grass beside them. He was chanting in his usual way, more like the sound +of a brook than anything else I can think of. When I went up to them he +ceased his chant. + +“Do go on, Diamond. Don't mind me,” I said. + +He began again at once. While he sang, Nanny and Jim sat a little way +off, one hemming a pocket-handkerchief, and the other reading a story +to her, but they never heeded Diamond. This is as near what he sang as I +can recollect, or reproduce rather. + + What would you see if I took you up + To my little nest in the air? + You would see the sky like a clear blue cup + Turned upside downwards there. + + What would you do if I took you there + To my little nest in the tree? + My child with cries would trouble the air, + To get what she could but see. + + What would you get in the top of the tree + For all your crying and grief? + Not a star would you clutch of all you see-- + You could only gather a leaf. + + But when you had lost your greedy grief, + Content to see from afar, + You would find in your hand a withering leaf, + In your heart a shining star. + +As Diamond went on singing, it grew very dark, and just as he ceased +there came a great flash of lightning, that blinded us all for a moment. +Dulcimer crowed with pleasure; but when the roar of thunder came after +it, the little brother gave a loud cry of terror. Nanny and Jim came +running up to us, pale with fear. Diamond's face, too, was paler than +usual, but with delight. Some of the glory seemed to have clung to it, +and remained shining. + +“You're not frightened--are you, Diamond?” I said. + +“No. Why should I be?” he answered with his usual question, looking up +in my face with calm shining eyes. + +“He ain't got sense to be frightened,” said Nanny, going up to him and +giving him a pitying hug. + +“Perhaps there's more sense in not being frightened, Nanny,” I returned. +“Do you think the lightning can do as it likes?” + +“It might kill you,” said Jim. + +“Oh, no, it mightn't!” said Diamond. + +As he spoke there came another great flash, and a tearing crack. + +“There's a tree struck!” I said; and when we looked round, after the +blinding of the flash had left our eyes, we saw a huge bough of the +beech-tree in which was Diamond's nest hanging to the ground like the +broken wing of a bird. + +“There!” cried Nanny; “I told you so. If you had been up there you see +what would have happened, you little silly!” + +“No, I don't,” said Diamond, and began to sing to Dulcimer. All I +could hear of the song, for the other children were going on with their +chatter, was-- + + The clock struck one, + And the mouse came down. + Dickery, dickery, dock! + +Then there came a blast of wind, and the rain followed in +straight-pouring lines, as if out of a watering-pot. Diamond jumped up +with his little Dulcimer in his arms, and Nanny caught up the little +boy, and they ran for the cottage. Jim vanished with a double shuffle, +and I went into the house. + +When I came out again to return home, the clouds were gone, and the +evening sky glimmered through the trees, blue, and pale-green towards +the west, I turned my steps a little aside to look at the stricken +beech. I saw the bough torn from the stem, and that was all the twilight +would allow me to see. While I stood gazing, down from the sky came a +sound of singing, but the voice was neither of lark nor of nightingale: +it was sweeter than either: it was the voice of Diamond, up in his airy +nest:-- + + The lightning and thunder, + They go and they come; + But the stars and the stillness + Are always at home. + +And then the voice ceased. + +“Good-night, Diamond,” I said. + +“Good-night, sir,” answered Diamond. + +As I walked away pondering, I saw the great black top of the beech +swaying about against the sky in an upper wind, and heard the murmur as +of many dim half-articulate voices filling the solitude around Diamond's +nest. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. DIAMOND QUESTIONS NORTH WIND + + +MY READERS will not wonder that, after this, I did my very best to gain +the friendship of Diamond. Nor did I find this at all difficult, the +child was so ready to trust. Upon one subject alone was he reticent--the +story of his relations with North Wind. I fancy he could not quite make +up his mind what to think of them. At all events it was some little time +before he trusted me with this, only then he told me everything. If +I could not regard it all in exactly the same light as he did, I was, +while guiltless of the least pretence, fully sympathetic, and he +was satisfied without demanding of me any theory of difficult points +involved. I let him see plainly enough, that whatever might be the +explanation of the marvellous experience, I would have given much for a +similar one myself. + +On an evening soon after the thunderstorm, in a late twilight, with +a half-moon high in the heavens, I came upon Diamond in the act of +climbing by his little ladder into the beech-tree. + +“What are you always going up there for, Diamond?” I heard Nanny ask, +rather rudely, I thought. + +“Sometimes for one thing, sometimes for another, Nanny,” answered +Diamond, looking skywards as he climbed. + +“You'll break your neck some day,” she said. + +“I'm going up to look at the moon to-night,” he added, without heeding +her remark. + +“You'll see the moon just as well down here,” she returned. + +“I don't think so.” + +“You'll be no nearer to her up there.” + +“Oh, yes! I shall. I must be nearer her, you know. I wish I could dream +as pretty dreams about her as you can, Nanny.” + +“You silly! you never have done about that dream. I never dreamed but +that one, and it was nonsense enough, I'm sure.” + +“It wasn't nonsense. It was a beautiful dream--and a funny one too, both +in one.” + +“But what's the good of talking about it that way, when you know it was +only a dream? Dreams ain't true.” + +“That one was true, Nanny. You know it was. Didn't you come to grief for +doing what you were told not to do? And isn't that true?” + +“I can't get any sense into him,” exclaimed Nanny, with an expression of +mild despair. “Do you really believe, Diamond, that there's a house in +the moon, with a beautiful lady and a crooked old man and dusters in +it?” + +“If there isn't, there's something better,” he answered, and vanished in +the leaves over our heads. + +I went into the house, where I visited often in the evenings. When I +came out, there was a little wind blowing, very pleasant after the heat +of the day, for although it was late summer now, it was still hot. The +tree-tops were swinging about in it. I took my way past the beech, and +called up to see if Diamond were still in his nest in its rocking head. + +“Are you there, Diamond?” I said. + +“Yes, sir,” came his clear voice in reply. + +“Isn't it growing too dark for you to get down safely?” + +“Oh, no, sir--if I take time to it. I know my way so well, and never let +go with one hand till I've a good hold with the other.” + +“Do be careful,” I insisted--foolishly, seeing the boy was as careful as +he could be already. + +“I'm coming,” he returned. “I've got all the moon I want to-night.” + + +I heard a rustling and a rustling drawing nearer and nearer. Three or +four minutes elapsed, and he appeared at length creeping down his little +ladder. I took him in my arms, and set him on the ground. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said. “That's the north wind blowing, isn't it, +sir?” + +“I can't tell,” I answered. “It feels cool and kind, and I think it may +be. But I couldn't be sure except it were stronger, for a gentle wind +might turn any way amongst the trunks of the trees.” + +“I shall know when I get up to my own room,” said Diamond. “I think I +hear my mistress's bell. Good-night, sir.” + +He ran to the house, and I went home. + +His mistress had rung for him only to send him to bed, for she was very +careful over him and I daresay thought he was not looking well. When he +reached his own room, he opened both his windows, one of which looked to +the north and the other to the east, to find how the wind blew. It blew +right in at the northern window. Diamond was very glad, for he thought +perhaps North Wind herself would come now: a real north wind had never +blown all the time since he left London. But, as she always came of +herself, and never when he was looking for her, and indeed almost never +when he was thinking of her, he shut the east window, and went to bed. +Perhaps some of my readers may wonder that he could go to sleep with +such an expectation; and, indeed, if I had not known him, I should have +wondered at it myself; but it was one of his peculiarities, and seemed +nothing strange in him. He was so full of quietness that he could go +to sleep almost any time, if he only composed himself and let the sleep +come. This time he went fast asleep as usual. + +But he woke in the dim blue night. The moon had vanished. He thought he +heard a knocking at his door. “Somebody wants me,” he said to himself, +and jumping out of bed, ran to open it. + +But there was no one there. He closed it again, and, the noise still +continuing, found that another door in the room was rattling. It +belonged to a closet, he thought, but he had never been able to open it. +The wind blowing in at the window must be shaking it. He would go and +see if it was so. + +The door now opened quite easily, but to his surprise, instead of a +closet he found a long narrow room. The moon, which was sinking in the +west, shone in at an open window at the further end. The room was +low with a coved ceiling, and occupied the whole top of the house, +immediately under the roof. It was quite empty. The yellow light of +the half-moon streamed over the dark floor. He was so delighted at the +discovery of the strange, desolate, moonlit place close to his own snug +little room, that he began to dance and skip about the floor. The wind +came in through the door he had left open, and blew about him as he +danced, and he kept turning towards it that it might blow in his face. +He kept picturing to himself the many places, lovely and desolate, the +hill-sides and farm-yards and tree-tops and meadows, over which it had +blown on its way to The Mound. And as he danced, he grew more and more +delighted with the motion and the wind; his feet grew stronger, and his +body lighter, until at length it seemed as if he were borne up on the +air, and could almost fly. So strong did his feeling become, that at +last he began to doubt whether he was not in one of those precious +dreams he had so often had, in which he floated about on the air at +will. But something made him look up, and to his unspeakable delight, he +found his uplifted hands lying in those of North Wind, who was dancing +with him, round and round the long bare room, her hair now falling to +the floor, now filling the arched ceiling, her eyes shining on him like +thinking stars, and the sweetest of grand smiles playing breezily about +her beautiful mouth. She was, as so often before, of the height of a +rather tall lady. She did not stoop in order to dance with him, but held +his hands high in hers. When he saw her, he gave one spring, and his +arms were about her neck, and her arms holding him to her bosom. The +same moment she swept with him through the open window in at which +the moon was shining, made a circuit like a bird about to alight, and +settled with him in his nest on the top of the great beech-tree. There +she placed him on her lap and began to hush him as if he were her own +baby, and Diamond was so entirely happy that he did not care to speak a +word. At length, however, he found that he was going to sleep, and +that would be to lose so much, that, pleasant as it was, he could not +consent. + +“Please, dear North Wind,” he said, “I am so happy that I'm afraid it's +a dream. How am I to know that it's not a dream?” + +“What does it matter?” returned North Wind. + +“I should, cry” said Diamond. + +“But why should you cry? The dream, if it is a dream, is a pleasant +one--is it not?” + +“That's just why I want it to be true.” + +“Have you forgotten what you said to Nanny about her dream?” + +“It's not for the dream itself--I mean, it's not for the pleasure of +it,” answered Diamond, “for I have that, whether it be a dream or not; +it's for you, North Wind; I can't bear to find it a dream, because then +I should lose you. You would be nobody then, and I could not bear that. +You ain't a dream, are you, dear North Wind? Do say No, else I shall +cry, and come awake, and you'll be gone for ever. I daren't dream about +you once again if you ain't anybody.” + +“I'm either not a dream, or there's something better that's not a dream, +Diamond,” said North Wind, in a rather sorrowful tone, he thought. + +“But it's not something better--it's you I want, North Wind,” he +persisted, already beginning to cry a little. + +She made no answer, but rose with him in her arms and sailed away over +the tree-tops till they came to a meadow, where a flock of sheep was +feeding. + +“Do you remember what the song you were singing a week ago says about +Bo-Peep--how she lost her sheep, but got twice as many lambs?” asked +North Wind, sitting down on the grass, and placing him in her lap as +before. + +“Oh yes, I do, well enough,” answered Diamond; “but I never just quite +liked that rhyme.” + +“Why not, child?” + +“Because it seems to say one's as good as another, or two new ones are +better than one that's lost. I've been thinking about it a great deal, +and it seems to me that although any one sixpence is as good as any +other sixpence, not twenty lambs would do instead of one sheep whose +face you knew. Somehow, when once you've looked into anybody's eyes, +right deep down into them, I mean, nobody will do for that one any more. +Nobody, ever so beautiful or so good, will make up for that one going +out of sight. So you see, North Wind, I can't help being frightened to +think that perhaps I am only dreaming, and you are nowhere at all. Do +tell me that you are my own, real, beautiful North Wind.” + +Again she rose, and shot herself into the air, as if uneasy because she +could not answer him; and Diamond lay quiet in her arms, waiting +for what she would say. He tried to see up into her face, for he was +dreadfully afraid she was not answering him because she could not say +that she was not a dream; but she had let her hair fall all over her +face so that he could not see it. This frightened him still more. + +“Do speak, North Wind,” he said at last. + +“I never speak when I have nothing to say,” she replied. + +“Then I do think you must be a real North Wind, and no dream,” said +Diamond. + +“But I'm looking for something to say all the time.” + +“But I don't want you to say what's hard to find. If you were to say one +word to comfort me that wasn't true, then I should know you must be a +dream, for a great beautiful lady like you could never tell a lie.” + +“But she mightn't know how to say what she had to say, so that a little +boy like you would understand it,” said North Wind. “Here, let us get +down again, and I will try to tell you what I think. You musn't suppose +I am able to answer all your questions, though. There are a great many +things I don't understand more than you do.” + +She descended on a grassy hillock, in the midst of a wild furzy common. +There was a rabbit-warren underneath, and some of the rabbits came out +of their holes, in the moonlight, looking very sober and wise, just like +patriarchs standing in their tent-doors, and looking about them before +going to bed. When they saw North Wind, instead of turning round and +vanishing again with a thump of their heels, they cantered slowly up to +her and snuffled all about her with their long upper lips, which moved +every way at once. That was their way of kissing her; and, as she talked +to Diamond, she would every now and then stroke down their furry backs, +or lift and play with their long ears. They would, Diamond thought, have +leaped upon her lap, but that he was there already. + +“I think,” said she, after they had been sitting silent for a while, +“that if I were only a dream, you would not have been able to love me +so. You love me when you are not with me, don't you?” + +“Indeed I do,” answered Diamond, stroking her hand. “I see! I see! How +could I be able to love you as I do if you weren't there at all, you +know? Besides, I couldn't be able to dream anything half so beautiful +all out of my own head; or if I did, I couldn't love a fancy of my own +like that, could I?” + +“I think not. You might have loved me in a dream, dreamily, and +forgotten me when you woke, I daresay, but not loved me like a real +being as you love me. Even then, I don't think you could dream anything +that hadn't something real like it somewhere. But you've seen me in many +shapes, Diamond: you remember I was a wolf once--don't you?” + +“Oh yes--a good wolf that frightened a naughty drunken nurse.” + +“Well, suppose I were to turn ugly, would you rather I weren't a dream +then?” + +“Yes; for I should know that you were beautiful inside all the same. You +would love me, and I should love you all the same. I shouldn't like you +to look ugly, you know. But I shouldn't believe it a bit.” + +“Not if you saw it?” + +“No, not if I saw it ever so plain.” + +“There's my Diamond! I will tell you all I know about it then. I don't +think I am just what you fancy me to be. I have to shape myself various +ways to various people. But the heart of me is true. People call me +by dreadful names, and think they know all about me. But they don't. +Sometimes they call me Bad Fortune, sometimes Evil Chance, sometimes +Ruin; and they have another name for me which they think the most +dreadful of all.” + +“What is that?” asked Diamond, smiling up in her face. + +“I won't tell you that name. Do you remember having to go through me to +get into the country at my back?” + +“Oh yes, I do. How cold you were, North Wind! and so white, all but your +lovely eyes! My heart grew like a lump of ice, and then I forgot for a +while.” + +“You were very near knowing what they call me then. Would you be afraid +of me if you had to go through me again?” + +“No. Why should I? Indeed I should be glad enough, if it was only to get +another peep of the country at your back.” + +“You've never seen it yet.” + +“Haven't I, North Wind? Oh! I'm so sorry! I thought I had. What did I +see then?” + +“Only a picture of it. The real country at my real back is ever so much +more beautiful than that. You shall see it one day--perhaps before very +long.” + +“Do they sing songs there?” + +“Don't you remember the dream you had about the little boys that dug for +the stars?” + +“Yes, that I do. I thought you must have had something to do with that +dream, it was so beautiful.” + +“Yes; I gave you that dream.” + +“Oh! thank you. Did you give Nanny her dream too--about the moon and the +bees?” + +“Yes. I was the lady that sat at the window of the moon.” + +“Oh, thank you. I was almost sure you had something to do with that too. +And did you tell Mr. Raymond the story about the Princess Daylight?” + +“I believe I had something to do with it. At all events he thought about +it one night when he couldn't sleep. But I want to ask you whether you +remember the song the boy-angels sang in that dream of yours.” + +“No. I couldn't keep it, do what I would, and I did try.” + +“That was my fault.” + +“How could that be, North Wind?” + +“Because I didn't know it properly myself, and so I couldn't teach it to +you. I could only make a rough guess at something like what it would be, +and so I wasn't able to make you dream it hard enough to remember it. +Nor would I have done so if I could, for it was not correct. I made you +dream pictures of it, though. But you will hear the very song itself +when you do get to the back of----” + +“My own dear North Wind,” said Diamond, finishing the sentence for her, +and kissing the arm that held him leaning against her. + +“And now we've settled all this--for the time, at least,” said North +Wind. + +“But I can't feel quite sure yet,” said Diamond. + +“You must wait a while for that. Meantime you may be hopeful, and +content not to be quite sure. Come now, I will take you home again, for +it won't do to tire you too much.” + +“Oh, no, no. I'm not the least tired,” pleaded Diamond. + +“It is better, though.” + +“Very well; if you wish it,” yielded Diamond with a sigh. + +“You are a dear good, boy” said North Wind. “I will come for you again +to-morrow night and take you out for a longer time. We shall make a +little journey together, in fact, we shall start earlier, and as the +moon will be later, we shall have a little moonlight all the way.” + +She rose, and swept over the meadow and the trees. In a few moments +the Mound appeared below them. She sank a little, and floated in at the +window of Diamond's room. There she laid him on his bed, covered him +over, and in a moment he was lapt in a dreamless sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. ONCE MORE + + +THE next night Diamond was seated by his open window, with his head on +his hand, rather tired, but so eagerly waiting for the promised visit +that he was afraid he could not sleep. But he started suddenly, and +found that he had been already asleep. He rose, and looking out of the +window saw something white against his beech-tree. It was North Wind. +She was holding by one hand to a top branch. Her hair and her garments +went floating away behind her over the tree, whose top was swaying about +while the others were still. + +“Are you ready, Diamond?” she asked. + +“Yes,” answered Diamond, “quite ready.” + +In a moment she was at the window, and her arms came in and took him. +She sailed away so swiftly that he could at first mark nothing but the +speed with which the clouds above and the dim earth below went rushing +past. But soon he began to see that the sky was very lovely, with +mottled clouds all about the moon, on which she threw faint colours like +those of mother-of-pearl, or an opal. The night was warm, and in the +lady's arms he did not feel the wind which down below was making waves +in the ripe corn, and ripples on the rivers and lakes. At length they +descended on the side of an open earthy hill, just where, from beneath a +stone, a spring came bubbling out. + +“I am going to take you along this little brook,” said North Wind. “I am +not wanted for anything else to-night, so I can give you a treat.” + +She stooped over the stream and holding Diamond down close to the +surface of it, glided along level with its flow as it ran down the hill. +And the song of the brook came up into Diamond's ears, and grew and +grew and changed with every turn. It seemed to Diamond to be singing the +story of its life to him. And so it was. It began with a musical tinkle +which changed to a babble and then to a gentle rushing. Sometimes its +song would almost cease, and then break out again, tinkle, babble, and +rush, all at once. At the bottom of the hill they came to a small river, +into which the brook flowed with a muffled but merry sound. Along the +surface of the river, darkly clear below them in the moonlight, they +floated; now, where it widened out into a little lake, they would hover +for a moment over a bed of water-lilies, and watch them swing about, +folded in sleep, as the water on which they leaned swayed in the +presence of North Wind; and now they would watch the fishes asleep among +their roots below. Sometimes she would hold Diamond over a deep hollow +curving into the bank, that he might look far into the cool stillness. +Sometimes she would leave the river and sweep across a clover-field. The +bees were all at home, and the clover was asleep. Then she would return +and follow the river. It grew wider and wider as it went. Now the armies +of wheat and of oats would hang over its rush from the opposite banks; +now the willows would dip low branches in its still waters; and now it +would lead them through stately trees and grassy banks into a lovely +garden, where the roses and lilies were asleep, the tender flowers +quite folded up, and only a few wide-awake and sending out their life in +sweet, strong odours. Wider and wider grew the stream, until they came +upon boats lying along its banks, which rocked a little in the flutter +of North Wind's garments. Then came houses on the banks, each standing +in a lovely lawn, with grand trees; and in parts the river was so high +that some of the grass and the roots of some of the trees were under +water, and Diamond, as they glided through between the stems, could see +the grass at the bottom of the water. Then they would leave the river +and float about and over the houses, one after another--beautiful rich +houses, which, like fine trees, had taken centuries to grow. There was +scarcely a light to be seen, and not a movement to be heard: all the +people in them lay fast asleep. + +“What a lot of dreams they must be dreaming!” said Diamond. + +“Yes,” returned North Wind. “They can't surely be all lies--can they?” + +“I should think it depends a little on who dreams them,” suggested +Diamond. + +“Yes,” said North Wind. “The people who think lies, and do lies, are +very likely to dream lies. But the people who love what is true will +surely now and then dream true things. But then something depends on +whether the dreams are home-grown, or whether the seed of them is blown +over somebody else's garden-wall. Ah! there's some one awake in this +house!” + +They were floating past a window in which a light was burning. Diamond +heard a moan, and looked up anxiously in North Wind's face. + +“It's a lady,” said North Wind. “She can't sleep for pain.” + +“Couldn't you do something for her?” said Diamond. + +“No, I can't. But you could.” + +“What could I do?” + +“Sing a little song to her.” + +“She wouldn't hear me.” + +“I will take you in, and then she will hear you.” + +“But that would be rude, wouldn't it? You can go where you please, of +course, but I should have no business in her room.” + +“You may trust me, Diamond. I shall take as good care of the lady as of +you. The window is open. Come.” + +By a shaded lamp, a lady was seated in a white wrapper, trying to read, +but moaning every minute. North Wind floated behind her chair, +set Diamond down, and told him to sing something. He was a little +frightened, but he thought a while, and then sang:-- + + The sun is gone down, + And the moon's in the sky; + But the sun will come up, + And the moon be laid by. + + The flower is asleep + But it is not dead; + When the morning shines, + It will lift its head. + + When winter comes, + It will die--no, no; + It will only hide + From the frost and the snow. + + Sure is the summer, + Sure is the sun; + The night and the winter + Are shadows that run. + +The lady never lifted her eyes from her book, or her head from her hand. + +As soon as Diamond had finished, North Wind lifted him and carried him +away. + +“Didn't the lady hear me?” asked Diamond when they were once more +floating down the river. + +“Oh, yes, she heard you,” answered North Wind. + +“Was she frightened then?” + +“Oh, no.” + +“Why didn't she look to see who it was?” + +“She didn't know you were there.” + +“How could she hear me then?” + +“She didn't hear you with her ears.” + +“What did she hear me with?” + +“With her heart.” + +“Where did she think the words came from?” + +“She thought they came out of the book she was reading. She will search +all through it to-morrow to find them, and won't be able to understand +it at all.” + +“Oh, what fun!” said Diamond. “What will she do?” + +“I can tell you what she won't do: she'll never forget the meaning of +them; and she'll never be able to remember the words of them.” + +“If she sees them in Mr. Raymond's book, it will puzzle her, won't it?” + +“Yes, that it will. She will never be able to understand it.” + +“Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” suggested Diamond. + +“Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” assented the lady. + +“Oh!” cried Diamond, “I know now where we are. Oh! do let me go into the +old garden, and into mother's room, and Diamond's stall. I wonder if the +hole is at the back of my bed still. I should like to stay there all the +rest of the night. It won't take you long to get home from here, will +it, North Wind?” + +“No,” she answered; “you shall stay as long as you like.” + +“Oh, how jolly,” cried Diamond, as North Wind sailed over the house with +him, and set him down on the lawn at the back. + +Diamond ran about the lawn for a little while in the moonlight. He found +part of it cut up into flower-beds, and the little summer-house with the +coloured glass and the great elm-tree gone. He did not like this, and +ran into the stable. There were no horses there at all. He ran upstairs. +The rooms were empty. The only thing left that he cared about was the +hole in the wall where his little bed had stood; and that was not enough +to make him wish to stop. He ran down the stair again, and out upon the +lawn. There he threw himself down and began to cry. It was all so dreary +and lost! + +“I thought I liked the place so much,” said Diamond to himself, “but I +find I don't care about it. I suppose it's only the people in it that +make you like a place, and when they're gone, it's dead, and you don't +care a bit about it. North Wind told me I might stop as long as I liked, +and I've stopped longer already. North Wind!” he cried aloud, turning +his face towards the sky. + +The moon was under a cloud, and all was looking dull and dismal. A +star shot from the sky, and fell in the grass beside him. The moment it +lighted, there stood North Wind. + +“Oh!” cried Diamond, joyfully, “were you the shooting star?” + +“Yes, my child.” + +“Did you hear me call you then?” + +“Yes.” + +“So high up as that?” + +“Yes; I heard you quite well.” + +“Do take me home.” + +“Have you had enough of your old home already?” + +“Yes, more than enough. It isn't a home at all now.” + +“I thought that would be it,” said North Wind. “Everything, dreaming and +all, has got a soul in it, or else it's worth nothing, and we don't care +a bit about it. Some of our thoughts are worth nothing, because they've +got no soul in them. The brain puts them into the mind, not the mind +into the brain.” + +“But how can you know about that, North Wind? You haven't got a body.” + +“If I hadn't you wouldn't know anything about me. No creature can know +another without the help of a body. But I don't care to talk about that. +It is time for you to go home.” + +So saying, North Wind lifted Diamond and bore him away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +I DID not see Diamond for a week or so after this, and then he told me +what I have now told you. I should have been astonished at his being +able even to report such conversations as he said he had had with +North Wind, had I not known already that some children are profound in +metaphysics. But a fear crosses me, lest, by telling so much about +my friend, I should lead people to mistake him for one of those +consequential, priggish little monsters, who are always trying to say +clever things, and looking to see whether people appreciate them. When a +child like that dies, instead of having a silly book written about him, +he should be stuffed like one of those awful big-headed fishes you +see in museums. But Diamond never troubled his head about what people +thought of him. He never set up for knowing better than others. The +wisest things he said came out when he wanted one to help him with some +difficulty he was in. He was not even offended with Nanny and Jim for +calling him a silly. He supposed there was something in it, though he +could not quite understand what. I suspect however that the other name +they gave him, God's Baby, had some share in reconciling him to it. + +Happily for me, I was as much interested in metaphysics as Diamond +himself, and therefore, while he recounted his conversations with North +Wind, I did not find myself at all in a strange sea, although certainly +I could not always feel the bottom, being indeed convinced that the +bottom was miles away. + +“Could it be all dreaming, do you think, sir?” he asked anxiously. + +“I daren't say, Diamond,” I answered. “But at least there is one thing +you may be sure of, that there is a still better love than that of the +wonderful being you call North Wind. Even if she be a dream, the dream +of such a beautiful creature could not come to you by chance.” + +“Yes, I know,” returned Diamond; “I know.” + +Then he was silent, but, I confess, appeared more thoughtful than +satisfied. + +The next time I saw him, he looked paler than usual. + +“Have you seen your friend again?” I asked him. + +“Yes,” he answered, solemnly. + +“Did she take you out with her?” + +“No. She did not speak to me. I woke all at once, as I generally do when +I am going to see her, and there she was against the door into the big +room, sitting just as I saw her sit on her own doorstep, as white as +snow, and her eyes as blue as the heart of an iceberg. She looked at me, +but never moved or spoke.” + +“Weren't you afraid?” I asked. + +“No. Why should I have been?” he answered. “I only felt a little cold.” + +“Did she stay long?” + +“I don't know. I fell asleep again. I think I have been rather cold ever +since though,” he added with a smile. + +I did not quite like this, but I said nothing. + +Four days after, I called again at the Mound. The maid who opened +the door looked grave, but I suspected nothing. When I reached the +drawing-room, I saw Mrs. Raymond had been crying. + +“Haven't you heard?” she said, seeing my questioning looks. + +“I've heard nothing,” I answered. + +“This morning we found our dear little Diamond lying on the floor of the +big attic-room, just outside his own door--fast asleep, as we thought. +But when we took him up, we did not think he was asleep. We saw +that----” + +Here the kind-hearted lady broke out crying afresh. + +“May I go and see him?” I asked. + +“Yes,” she sobbed. “You know your way to the top of the tower.” + +I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as +white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at +once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to +the back of the north wind. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's At the Back of the North Wind, by George MacDonald + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND *** + +***** This file should be named 225-0.txt or 225-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/225/ + +Produced by Martin Ward + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: At the Back of the North Wind + +Author: George MacDonald + +Release Date: July 8, 2008 [EBook #225] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND *** + + + + +Produced by Martin Ward, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18614"> +[# 18614 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By George Mac Donald + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h4> + Author of “Dealings with Fairies,” “Ranald Bannerman,” etc., etc. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> THE HAY-LOFT + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE LAWN + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> OLD + DIAMOND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> NORTH + WIND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> THE + SUMMER-HOUSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> OUT + IN THE STORM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE + CATHEDRAL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> THE + EAST WINDOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> HOW + DIAMOND GOT TO THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> AT THE BACK OF THE + NORTH WIND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> HOW + DIAMOND GOT HOME AGAIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. + </a> WHO MET DIAMOND AT SANDWICH <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> THE SEASIDE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> OLD DIAMOND <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> THE MEWS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> DIAMOND MAKES A + BEGINNING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> DIAMOND + GOES ON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE + DRUNKEN CABMAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> DIAMOND'S + FRIENDS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> DIAMOND + LEARNS TO READ <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> SAL'S + NANNY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> MR. + RAYMOND'S RIDDLE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> THE + EARLY BIRD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> ANOTHER + EARLY BIRD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> DIAMOND'S + DREAM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> DIAMOND + TAKES A FARE THE WRONG WAY RIGHT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> + CHAPTER XXVII. </a> THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> LITTLE DAYLIGHT + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> RUBY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> NANNY'S + DREAM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> THE + NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. + </a> DIAMOND AND RUBY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> + CHAPTER XXXIII. </a> THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a> IN THE COUNTRY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> I MAKE + DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER + XXXVI. </a> DIAMOND QUESTIONS NORTH WIND <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a> ONCE MORE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. </a> AT + THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE HAY-LOFT + </h2> + <p> + I HAVE been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind. An old + Greek writer mentions a people who lived there, and were so comfortable + that they could not bear it any longer, and drowned themselves. My story + is not the same as his. I do not think Herodotus had got the right account + of the place. I am going to tell you how it fared with a boy who went + there. + </p> + <p> + He lived in a low room over a coach-house; and that was not by any means + at the back of the north wind, as his mother very well knew. For one side + of the room was built only of boards, and the boards were so old that you + might run a penknife through into the north wind. And then let them settle + between them which was the sharper! I know that when you pulled it out + again the wind would be after it like a cat after a mouse, and you would + know soon enough you were not at the back of the north wind. Still, this + room was not very cold, except when the north wind blew stronger than + usual: the room I have to do with now was always cold, except in summer, + when the sun took the matter into his own hands. Indeed, I am not sure + whether I ought to call it a room at all; for it was just a loft where + they kept hay and straw and oats for the horses. + </p> + <p> + And when little Diamond—but stop: I must tell you that his father, + who was a coachman, had named him after a favourite horse, and his mother + had had no objection:—when little Diamond, then, lay there in bed, + he could hear the horses under him munching away in the dark, or moving + sleepily in their dreams. For Diamond's father had built him a bed in the + loft with boards all round it, because they had so little room in their + own end over the coach-house; and Diamond's father put old Diamond in the + stall under the bed, because he was a quiet horse, and did not go to sleep + standing, but lay down like a reasonable creature. But, although he was a + surprisingly reasonable creature, yet, when young Diamond woke in the + middle of the night, and felt the bed shaking in the blasts of the north + wind, he could not help wondering whether, if the wind should blow the + house down, and he were to fall through into the manger, old Diamond + mightn't eat him up before he knew him in his night-gown. And although old + Diamond was very quiet all night long, yet when he woke he got up like an + earthquake, and then young Diamond knew what o'clock it was, or at least + what was to be done next, which was—to go to sleep again as fast as + he could. + </p> + <p> + There was hay at his feet and hay at his head, piled up in great trusses + to the very roof. Indeed it was sometimes only through a little lane with + several turnings, which looked as if it had been sawn out for him, that he + could reach his bed at all. For the stock of hay was, of course, always in + a state either of slow ebb or of sudden flow. Sometimes the whole space of + the loft, with the little panes in the roof for the stars to look in, + would lie open before his open eyes as he lay in bed; sometimes a yellow + wall of sweet-smelling fibres closed up his view at the distance of half a + yard. Sometimes, when his mother had undressed him in her room, and told + him to trot to bed by himself, he would creep into the heart of the hay, + and lie there thinking how cold it was outside in the wind, and how warm + it was inside there in his bed, and how he could go to it when he pleased, + only he wouldn't just yet; he would get a little colder first. And ever as + he grew colder, his bed would grow warmer, till at last he would scramble + out of the hay, shoot like an arrow into his bed, cover himself up, and + snuggle down, thinking what a happy boy he was. He had not the least idea + that the wind got in at a chink in the wall, and blew about him all night. + For the back of his bed was only of boards an inch thick, and on the other + side of them was the north wind. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I have already said, these boards were soft and crumbly. To be + sure, they were tarred on the outside, yet in many places they were more + like tinder than timber. Hence it happened that the soft part having worn + away from about it, little Diamond found one night, after he lay down, + that a knot had come out of one of them, and that the wind was blowing in + upon him in a cold and rather imperious fashion. Now he had no fancy for + leaving things wrong that might be set right; so he jumped out of bed + again, got a little strike of hay, twisted it up, folded it in the middle, + and, having thus made it into a cork, stuck it into the hole in the wall. + But the wind began to blow loud and angrily, and, as Diamond was falling + asleep, out blew his cork and hit him on the nose, just hard enough to + wake him up quite, and let him hear the wind whistling shrill in the hole. + He searched for his hay-cork, found it, stuck it in harder, and was just + dropping off once more, when, pop! with an angry whistle behind it, the + cork struck him again, this time on the cheek. Up he rose once more, made + a fresh stopple of hay, and corked the hole severely. But he was hardly + down again before—pop! it came on his forehead. He gave it up, drew + the clothes above his head, and was soon fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + Although the next day was very stormy, Diamond forgot all about the hole, + for he was busy making a cave by the side of his mother's fire with a + broken chair, a three-legged stool, and a blanket, and then sitting in it. + His mother, however, discovered it, and pasted a bit of brown paper over + it, so that, when Diamond had snuggled down the next night, he had no + occasion to think of it. + </p> + <p> + Presently, however, he lifted his head and listened. Who could that be + talking to him? The wind was rising again, and getting very loud, and full + of rushes and whistles. He was sure some one was talking—and very + near him, too, it was. But he was not frightened, for he had not yet + learned how to be; so he sat up and hearkened. At last the voice, which, + though quite gentle, sounded a little angry, appeared to come from the + back of the bed. He crept nearer to it, and laid his ear against the wall. + Then he heard nothing but the wind, which sounded very loud indeed. The + moment, however, that he moved his head from the wall, he heard the voice + again, close to his ear. He felt about with his hand, and came upon the + piece of paper his mother had pasted over the hole. Against this he laid + his ear, and then he heard the voice quite distinctly. There was, in fact, + a little corner of the paper loose, and through that, as from a mouth in + the wall, the voice came. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, little boy—closing up my window?” + </p> + <p> + “What window?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You stuffed hay into it three times last night. I had to blow it out + again three times.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't mean this little hole! It isn't a window; it's a hole in my + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not say it was a window: I said it was my window.” + </p> + <p> + “But it can't be a window, because windows are holes to see out of.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's just what I made this window for.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are outside: you can't want a window.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite mistaken. Windows are to see out of, you say. Well, I'm in + my house, and I want windows to see out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you've made a window into my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, your mother has got three windows into my dancing room, and you + have three into my garret.” + </p> + <p> + “But I heard father say, when my mother wanted him to make a window + through the wall, that it was against the law, for it would look into Mr. + Dyves's garden.” + </p> + <p> + The voice laughed. + </p> + <p> + “The law would have some trouble to catch me!” it said. + </p> + <p> + “But if it's not right, you know,” said Diamond, “that's no matter. You + shouldn't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am so tall I am above that law,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “You must have a tall house, then,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; a tall house: the clouds are inside it.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said Diamond, and thought a minute. “I think, then, you can + hardly expect me to keep a window in my bed for you. Why don't you make a + window into Mr. Dyves's bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody makes a window into an ash-pit,” said the voice, rather sadly. “I + like to see nice things out of my windows.” + </p> + <p> + “But he must have a nicer bed than I have, though mine is very nice—so + nice that I couldn't wish a better.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not the bed I care about: it's what is in it.—But you just + open that window.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, mother says I shouldn't be disobliging; but it's rather hard. You + see the north wind will blow right in my face if I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I am the North Wind.” + </p> + <p> + “O-o-oh!” said Diamond, thoughtfully. “Then will you promise not to blow + on my face if I open your window?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't promise that.” + </p> + <p> + “But you'll give me the toothache. Mother's got it already.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's to become of me without a window?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I don't know. All I say is, it will be worse for me than for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “No; it will not. You shall not be the worse for it—I promise you + that. You will be much the better for it. Just you believe what I say, and + do as I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can pull the clothes over my head,” said Diamond, and feeling + with his little sharp nails, he got hold of the open edge of the paper and + tore it off at once. + </p> + <p> + In came a long whistling spear of cold, and struck his little naked chest. + He scrambled and tumbled in under the bedclothes, and covered himself up: + there was no paper now between him and the voice, and he felt a little—not + frightened exactly—I told you he had not learned that yet—but + rather queer; for what a strange person this North Wind must be that lived + in the great house—“called Out-of-Doors, I suppose,” thought Diamond—and + made windows into people's beds! But the voice began again; and he could + hear it quite plainly, even with his head under the bed-clothes. It was a + still more gentle voice now, although six times as large and loud as it + had been, and he thought it sounded a little like his mother's. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, little boy?” it asked. + </p> + <p> + “Diamond,” answered Diamond, under the bed-clothes. + </p> + <p> + “What a funny name!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a very nice name,” returned its owner. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do,” retorted Diamond, a little rudely. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know to whom you are speaking!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + And indeed he did not. For to know a person's name is not always to know + the person's self. + </p> + <p> + “Then I must not be angry with you.—You had better look and see, + though.” + </p> + <p> + “Diamond is a very pretty name,” persisted the boy, vexed that it should + not give satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Diamond is a useless thing rather,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “That's not true. Diamond is very nice—as big as two—and so + quiet all night! And doesn't he make a jolly row in the morning, getting + upon his four great legs! It's like thunder.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to know what a diamond is.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't I just! Diamond is a great and good horse; and he sleeps right + under me. He is old Diamond, and I am young Diamond; or, if you like it + better, for you're very particular, Mr. North Wind, he's big Diamond, and + I'm little Diamond; and I don't know which of us my father likes best.” + </p> + <p> + A beautiful laugh, large but very soft and musical, sounded somewhere + beside him, but Diamond kept his head under the clothes. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not Mr. North Wind,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “You told me that you were the North Wind,” insisted Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I did not say Mister North Wind,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I do; for mother tells me I ought to be polite.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me tell you I don't think it at all polite of you to say Mister + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn't know better. I'm very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “But you ought to know better.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. You can't say it's polite to lie there talking—with your head + under the bed-clothes, and never look up to see what kind of person you + are talking to.—I want you to come out with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to go to sleep,” said Diamond, very nearly crying, for he did not + like to be scolded, even when he deserved it. + </p> + <p> + “You shall sleep all the better to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Diamond, “you are out in Mr. Dyves's garden, and I can't + get there. I can only get into our own yard.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you take your head out of the bed-clothes?” said the voice, just a + little angrily. + </p> + <p> + “No!” answered Diamond, half peevish, half frightened. + </p> + <p> + The instant he said the word, a tremendous blast of wind crashed in a + board of the wall, and swept the clothes off Diamond. He started up in + terror. Leaning over him was the large, beautiful, pale face of a woman. + Her dark eyes looked a little angry, for they had just begun to flash; but + a quivering in her sweet upper lip made her look as if she were going to + cry. What was the most strange was that away from her head streamed out + her black hair in every direction, so that the darkness in the hay-loft + looked as if it were made of her hair but as Diamond gazed at her in + speechless amazement, mingled with confidence—for the boy was + entranced with her mighty beauty—her hair began to gather itself out + of the darkness, and fell down all about her again, till her face looked + out of the midst of it like a moon out of a cloud. From her eyes came all + the light by which Diamond saw her face and her hair; and that was all he + did see of her yet. The wind was over and gone. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go with me now, you little Diamond? I am sorry I was forced to + be so rough with you,” said the lady. + </p> + <p> + “I will; yes, I will,” answered Diamond, holding out both his arms. “But,” + he added, dropping them, “how shall I get my clothes? They are in mother's + room, and the door is locked.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind your clothes. You will not be cold. I shall take care of + that. Nobody is cold with the north wind.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought everybody was,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “That is a great mistake. Most people make it, however. They are cold + because they are not with the north wind, but without it.” + </p> + <p> + If Diamond had been a little older, and had supposed himself a good deal + wiser, he would have thought the lady was joking. But he was not older, + and did not fancy himself wiser, and therefore understood her well enough. + Again he stretched out his arms. The lady's face drew back a little. + </p> + <p> + “Follow me, Diamond,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Diamond, only a little ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “You're not afraid?” said the North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am; but mother never would let me go without shoes: she never said + anything about clothes, so I dare say she wouldn't mind that.” + </p> + <p> + “I know your mother very well,” said the lady. “She is a good woman. I + have visited her often. I was with her when you were born. I saw her laugh + and cry both at once. I love your mother, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “How was it you did not know my name, then, ma'am? Please am I to say + ma'am to you, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + “One question at a time, dear boy. I knew your name quite well, but I + wanted to hear what you would say for it. Don't you remember that day when + the man was finding fault with your name—how I blew the window in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” answered Diamond, eagerly. “Our window opens like a door, + right over the coach-house door. And the wind—you, ma'am—came + in, and blew the Bible out of the man's hands, and the leaves went all + flutter, flutter on the floor, and my mother picked it up and gave it back + to him open, and there——” + </p> + <p> + “Was your name in the Bible—the sixth stone in the high priest's + breastplate.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!—a stone, was it?” said Diamond. “I thought it had been a horse—I + did.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. A horse is better than a stone any day. Well, you see, I know + all about you and your mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I will go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now for the next question: you're not to call me ma'am. You must call me + just my own name—respectfully, you know—just North Wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready to go + with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all at once, + Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's beautiful can't be bad. You're not bad, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I'm not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing bad, + and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. So little + boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they are beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond:—What if I should look ugly + without being bad—look ugly myself because I am making ugly things + beautiful?—What then?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will tell you. If you see me with my face all black, don't be + frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the whole + sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse than Mrs. + Bill, the blacksmith's wife—even if you see me looking in at + people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife—you must + believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into a serpent + or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand will never + change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know + who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't see me the least + like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite well,” said little Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, then,” said North Wind, and disappeared behind the mountain + of hay. + </p> + <p> + Diamond crept out of bed and followed her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE LAWN + </h2> + <p> + WHEN Diamond got round the corner of the hay, for a moment he hesitated. + The stair by which he would naturally have gone down to the door was at + the other side of the loft, and looked very black indeed; for it was full + of North Wind's hair, as she descended before him. And just beside him was + the ladder going straight down into the stable, up which his father always + came to fetch the hay for Diamond's dinner. Through the opening in the + floor the faint gleam of the-stable lantern was enticing, and Diamond + thought he would run down that way. + </p> + <p> + The stair went close past the loose-box in which Diamond the horse lived. + When Diamond the boy was half-way down, he remembered that it was of no + use to go this way, for the stable-door was locked. But at the same moment + there was horse Diamond's great head poked out of his box on to the + ladder, for he knew boy Diamond although he was in his night-gown, and + wanted him to pull his ears for him. This Diamond did very gently for a + minute or so, and patted and stroked his neck too, and kissed the big + horse, and had begun to take the bits of straw and hay out of his mane, + when all at once he recollected that the Lady North Wind was waiting for + him in the yard. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Diamond,” he said, and darted up the ladder, across the loft, + and down the stair to the door. But when he got out into the yard, there + was no lady. + </p> + <p> + Now it is always a dreadful thing to think there is somebody and find + nobody. Children in particular have not made up their minds to it; they + generally cry at nobody, especially when they wake up at night. But it was + an especial disappointment to Diamond, for his little heart had been + beating with joy: the face of the North Wind was so grand! To have a lady + like that for a friend—with such long hair, too! Why, it was longer + than twenty Diamonds' tails! She was gone. And there he stood, with his + bare feet on the stones of the paved yard. + </p> + <p> + It was a clear night overhead, and the stars were shining. Orion in + particular was making the most of his bright belt and golden sword. But + the moon was only a poor thin crescent. There was just one great, jagged, + black and gray cloud in the sky, with a steep side to it like a precipice; + and the moon was against this side, and looked as if she had tumbled off + the top of the cloud-hill, and broken herself in rolling down the + precipice. She did not seem comfortable, for she was looking down into the + deep pit waiting for her. At least that was what Diamond thought as he + stood for a moment staring at her. But he was quite wrong, for the moon + was not afraid, and there was no pit she was going down into, for there + were no sides to it, and a pit without sides to it is not a pit at all. + Diamond, however, had not been out so late before in all his life, and + things looked so strange about him!—just as if he had got into + Fairyland, of which he knew quite as much as anybody; for his mother had + no money to buy books to set him wrong on the subject. I have seen this + world—only sometimes, just now and then, you know—look as + strange as ever I saw Fairyland. But I confess that I have not yet seen + Fairyland at its best. I am always going to see it so some time. But if + you had been out in the face and not at the back of the North Wind, on a + cold rather frosty night, and in your night-gown, you would have felt it + all quite as strange as Diamond did. He cried a little, just a little, he + was so disappointed to lose the lady: of course, you, little man, wouldn't + have done that! But for my part, I don't mind people crying so much as I + mind what they cry about, and how they cry—whether they cry quietly + like ladies and gentlemen, or go shrieking like vulgar emperors, or + ill-natured cooks; for all emperors are not gentlemen, and all cooks are + not ladies—nor all queens and princesses for that matter, either. + </p> + <p> + But it can't be denied that a little gentle crying does one good. It did + Diamond good; for as soon as it was over he was a brave boy again. + </p> + <p> + “She shan't say it was my fault, anyhow!” said Diamond. “I daresay she is + hiding somewhere to see what I will do. I will look for her.” + </p> + <p> + So he went round the end of the stable towards the kitchen-garden. But the + moment he was clear of the shelter of the stable, sharp as a knife came + the wind against his little chest and his bare legs. Still he would look + in the kitchen-garden, and went on. But when he got round the weeping-ash + that stood in the corner, the wind blew much stronger, and it grew + stronger and stronger till he could hardly fight against it. And it was so + cold! All the flashy spikes of the stars seemed to have got somehow into + the wind. Then he thought of what the lady had said about people being + cold because they were not with the North Wind. How it was that he should + have guessed what she meant at that very moment I cannot tell, but I have + observed that the most wonderful thing in the world is how people come to + understand anything. He turned his back to the wind, and trotted again + towards the yard; whereupon, strange to say, it blew so much more gently + against his calves than it had blown against his shins that he began to + feel almost warm by contrast. + </p> + <p> + You must not think it was cowardly of Diamond to turn his back to the + wind: he did so only because he thought Lady North Wind had said something + like telling him to do so. If she had said to him that he must hold his + face to it, Diamond would have held his face to it. But the most foolish + thing is to fight for no good, and to please nobody. + </p> + <p> + Well, it was just as if the wind was pushing Diamond along. If he turned + round, it grew very sharp on his legs especially, and so he thought the + wind might really be Lady North Wind, though he could not see her, and he + had better let her blow him wherever she pleased. So she blew and blew, + and he went and went, until he found himself standing at a door in a wall, + which door led from the yard into a little belt of shrubbery, flanking Mr. + Coleman's house. Mr. Coleman was his father's master, and the owner of + Diamond. He opened the door, and went through the shrubbery, and out into + the middle of the lawn, still hoping to find North Wind. The soft grass + was very pleasant to his bare feet, and felt warm after the stones of the + yard; but the lady was nowhere to be seen. Then he began to think that + after all he must have done wrong, and she was offended with him for not + following close after her, but staying to talk to the horse, which + certainly was neither wise nor polite. + </p> + <p> + There he stood in the middle of the lawn, the wind blowing his night-gown + till it flapped like a loose sail. The stars were very shiny over his + head; but they did not give light enough to show that the grass was green; + and Diamond stood alone in the strange night, which looked half solid all + about him. He began to wonder whether he was in a dream or not. It was + important to determine this; “for,” thought Diamond, “if I am in a dream, + I am safe in my bed, and I needn't cry. But if I'm not in a dream, I'm out + here, and perhaps I had better cry, or, at least, I'm not sure whether I + can help it.” He came to the conclusion, however, that, whether he was in + a dream or not, there could be no harm in not crying for a little while + longer: he could begin whenever he liked. + </p> + <p> + The back of Mr. Coleman's house was to the lawn, and one of the + drawing-room windows looked out upon it. The ladies had not gone to bed; + for the light was still shining in that window. But they had no idea that + a little boy was standing on the lawn in his night-gown, or they would + have run out in a moment. And as long as he saw that light, Diamond could + not feel quite lonely. He stood staring, not at the great warrior Orion in + the sky, nor yet at the disconsolate, neglected moon going down in the + west, but at the drawing-room window with the light shining through its + green curtains. He had been in that room once or twice that he could + remember at Christmas times; for the Colemans were kind people, though + they did not care much about children. + </p> + <p> + All at once the light went nearly out: he could only see a glimmer of the + shape of the window. Then, indeed, he felt that he was left alone. It was + so dreadful to be out in the night after everybody was gone to bed! That + was more than he could bear. He burst out crying in good earnest, + beginning with a wail like that of the wind when it is waking up. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps you think this was very foolish; for could he not go home to his + own bed again when he liked? Yes; but it looked dreadful to him to creep + up that stair again and lie down in his bed again, and know that North + Wind's window was open beside him, and she gone, and he might never see + her again. He would be just as lonely there as here. Nay, it would be much + worse if he had to think that the window was nothing but a hole in the + wall. + </p> + <p> + At the very moment when he burst out crying, the old nurse who had grown + to be one of the family, for she had not gone away when Miss Coleman did + not want any more nursing, came to the back door, which was of glass, to + close the shutters. She thought she heard a cry, and, peering out with a + hand on each side of her eyes like Diamond's blinkers, she saw something + white on the lawn. Too old and too wise to be frightened, she opened the + door, and went straight towards the white thing to see what it was. And + when Diamond saw her coming he was not frightened either, though Mrs. + Crump was a little cross sometimes; for there is a good kind of crossness + that is only disagreeable, and there is a bad kind of crossness that is + very nasty indeed. So she came up with her neck stretched out, and her + head at the end of it, and her eyes foremost of all, like a snail's, + peering into the night to see what it could be that went on glimmering + white before her. When she did see, she made a great exclamation, and + threw up her hands. Then without a word, for she thought Diamond was + walking in his sleep, she caught hold of him, and led him towards the + house. He made no objection, for he was just in the mood to be grateful + for notice of any sort, and Mrs. Crump led him straight into the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Now, from the neglect of the new housemaid, the fire in Miss Coleman's + bedroom had gone out, and her mother had told her to brush her hair by the + drawing-room fire—a disorderly proceeding which a mother's wish + could justify. The young lady was very lovely, though not nearly so + beautiful as North Wind; and her hair was extremely long, for it came down + to her knees—though that was nothing at all to North Wind's hair. + Yet when she looked round, with her hair all about her, as Diamond + entered, he thought for one moment that it was North Wind, and, pulling + his hand from Mrs. Crump's, he stretched out his arms and ran towards Miss + Coleman. She was so pleased that she threw down her brush, and almost + knelt on the floor to receive him in her arms. He saw the next moment that + she was not Lady North Wind, but she looked so like her he could not help + running into her arms and bursting into tears afresh. Mrs. Crump said the + poor child had walked out in his sleep, and Diamond thought she ought to + know, and did not contradict her for anything he knew, it might be so + indeed. He let them talk on about him, and said nothing; and when, after + their astonishment was over, and Miss Coleman had given him a sponge-cake, + it was decreed that Mrs. Crump should take him to his mother, he was quite + satisfied. + </p> + <p> + His mother had to get out of bed to open the door when Mrs. Crump knocked. + She was indeed surprised to see her, boy; and having taken him in her arms + and carried him to his bed, returned and had a long confabulation with + Mrs. Crump, for they were still talking when Diamond fell fast asleep, and + could hear them no longer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. OLD DIAMOND + </h2> + <p> + DIAMOND woke very early in the morning, and thought what a curious dream + he had had. But the memory grew brighter and brighter in his head, until + it did not look altogether like a dream, and he began to doubt whether he + had not really been abroad in the wind last night. He came to the + conclusion that, if he had really been brought home to his mother by Mrs. + Crump, she would say something to him about it, and that would settle the + matter. Then he got up and dressed himself, but, finding that his father + and mother were not yet stirring, he went down the ladder to the stable. + There he found that even old Diamond was not awake yet, for he, as well as + young Diamond, always got up the moment he woke, and now he was lying as + flat as a horse could lie upon his nice trim bed of straw. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give old Diamond a surprise,” thought the boy; and creeping up very + softly, before the horse knew, he was astride of his back. Then it was + young Diamond's turn to have more of a surprise than he had expected; for + as with an earthquake, with a rumbling and a rocking hither and thither, a + sprawling of legs and heaving as of many backs, young Diamond found + himself hoisted up in the air, with both hands twisted in the horse's + mane. The next instant old Diamond lashed out with both his hind legs, and + giving one cry of terror young Diamond found himself lying on his neck, + with his arms as far round it as they would go. But then the horse stood + as still as a stone, except that he lifted his head gently up to let the + boy slip down to his back. For when he heard young Diamond's cry he knew + that there was nothing to kick about; for young Diamond was a good boy, + and old Diamond was a good horse, and the one was all right on the back of + the other. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Diamond had got himself comfortable on the saddle place, the + horse began pulling at the hay, and the boy began thinking. He had never + mounted Diamond himself before, and he had never got off him without being + lifted down. So he sat, while the horse ate, wondering how he was to reach + the ground. + </p> + <p> + But while he meditated, his mother woke, and her first thought was to see + her boy. She had visited him twice during the night, and found him + sleeping quietly. Now his bed was empty, and she was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Diamond! Diamond! Where are you, Diamond?” she called out. + </p> + <p> + Diamond turned his head where he sat like a knight on his steed in + enchanted stall, and cried aloud,— + </p> + <p> + “Here, mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Where, Diamond?” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “Here, mother, on Diamond's back.” + </p> + <p> + She came running to the ladder, and peeping down, saw him aloft on the + great horse. + </p> + <p> + “Come down, Diamond,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I can't,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get up?” asked his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Quite easily,” answered he; “but when I got up, Diamond would get up too, + and so here I am.” + </p> + <p> + His mother thought he had been walking in his sleep again, and hurried + down the ladder. She did not much like going up to the horse, for she had + not been used to horses; but she would have gone into a lion's den, not to + say a horse's stall, to help her boy. So she went and lifted him off + Diamond's back, and felt braver all her life after. She carried him in her + arms up to her room; but, afraid of frightening him at his own + sleep-walking, as she supposed it, said nothing about last night. Before + the next day was over, Diamond had almost concluded the whole adventure a + dream. + </p> + <p> + For a week his mother watched him very carefully—going into the loft + several times a night—as often, in fact, as she woke. Every time she + found him fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + All that week it was hard weather. The grass showed white in the morning + with the hoar-frost which clung like tiny comfits to every blade. And as + Diamond's shoes were not good, and his mother had not quite saved up + enough money to get him the new pair she so much wanted for him, she would + not let him run out. He played all his games over and over indoors, + especially that of driving two chairs harnessed to the baby's cradle; and + if they did not go very fast, they went as fast as could be expected of + the best chairs in the world, although one of them had only three legs, + and the other only half a back. + </p> + <p> + At length his mother brought home his new shoes, and no sooner did she + find they fitted him than she told him he might run out in the yard and + amuse himself for an hour. + </p> + <p> + The sun was going down when he flew from the door like a bird from its + cage. All the world was new to him. A great fire of sunset burned on the + top of the gate that led from the stables to the house; above the fire in + the sky lay a large lake of green light, above that a golden cloud, and + over that the blue of the wintry heavens. And Diamond thought that, next + to his own home, he had never seen any place he would like so much to live + in as that sky. For it is not fine things that make home a nice place, but + your mother and your father. + </p> + <p> + As he was looking at the lovely colours, the gates were thrown open, and + there was old Diamond and his friend in the carriage, dancing with + impatience to get at their stalls and their oats. And in they came. + Diamond was not in the least afraid of his father driving over him, but, + careful not to spoil the grand show he made with his fine horses and his + multitudinous cape, with a red edge to every fold, he slipped out of the + way and let him dash right on to the stables. To be quite safe he had to + step into the recess of the door that led from the yard to the shrubbery. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there he remembered how the wind had driven him to this same + spot on the night of his dream. And once more he was almost sure that it + was no dream. At all events, he would go in and see whether things looked + at all now as they did then. He opened the door, and passed through the + little belt of shrubbery. Not a flower was to be seen in the beds on the + lawn. Even the brave old chrysanthemums and Christmas roses had passed + away before the frost. What? Yes! There was one! He ran and knelt down to + look at it. + </p> + <p> + It was a primrose—a dwarfish thing, but perfect in shape—a + baby-wonder. As he stooped his face to see it close, a little wind began + to blow, and two or three long leaves that stood up behind the flower + shook and waved and quivered, but the primrose lay still in the green + hollow, looking up at the sky, and not seeming to know that the wind was + blowing at all. It was just a one eye that the dull black wintry earth had + opened to look at the sky with. All at once Diamond thought it was saying + its prayers, and he ought not to be staring at it so. He ran to the stable + to see his father make Diamond's bed. Then his father took him in his + arms, carried him up the ladder, and set him down at the table where they + were going to have their tea. + </p> + <p> + “Miss is very poorly,” said Diamond's father. “Mis'ess has been to the + doctor with her to-day, and she looked very glum when she came out again. + I was a-watching of them to see what doctor had said.” + </p> + <p> + “And didn't Miss look glum too?” asked his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Not half as glum as Mis'ess,” returned the coachman. “You see—” + </p> + <p> + But he lowered his voice, and Diamond could not make out more than a word + here and there. For Diamond's father was not only one of the finest of + coachmen to look at, and one of the best of drivers, but one of the most + discreet of servants as well. Therefore he did not talk about family + affairs to any one but his wife, whom he had proved better than himself + long ago, and was careful that even Diamond should hear nothing he could + repeat again concerning master and his family. + </p> + <p> + It was bed-time soon, and Diamond went to bed and fell fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + He awoke all at once, in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Open the window, Diamond,” said a voice. + </p> + <p> + Now Diamond's mother had once more pasted up North Wind's window. + </p> + <p> + “Are you North Wind?” said Diamond: “I don't hear you blowing.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but you hear me talking. Open the window, for I haven't overmuch + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” returned Diamond. “But, please, North Wind, where's the use? You + left me all alone last time.” + </p> + <p> + He had got up on his knees, and was busy with his nails once more at the + paper over the hole in the wall. For now that North Wind spoke again, he + remembered all that had taken place before as distinctly as if it had + happened only last night. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that was your fault,” returned North Wind. “I had work to do; + and, besides, a gentleman should never keep a lady waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm not a gentleman,” said Diamond, scratching away at the paper. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won't say so ten years after this.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to be a coachman, and a coachman is not a gentleman,” persisted + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “We call your father a gentleman in our house,” said North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't call himself one,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “That's of no consequence: every man ought to be a gentleman, and your + father is one.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond was so pleased to hear this that he scratched at the paper like + ten mice, and getting hold of the edge of it, tore it off. The next + instant a young girl glided across the bed, and stood upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear!” said Diamond, quite dismayed; “I didn't know—who are you, + please?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm North Wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Make haste.” + </p> + <p> + “But you're no bigger than me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I care about how big or how little I am? Didn't you see me + this evening? I was less then.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Where was you?” + </p> + <p> + “Behind the leaves of the primrose. Didn't you see them blowing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Make haste, then, if you want to go with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not big enough to take care of me. I think you are only Miss + North Wind.” + </p> + <p> + “I am big enough to show you the way, anyhow. But if you won't come, why, + you must stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I must dress myself. I didn't mind with a grown lady, but I couldn't go + with a little girl in my night-gown.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I'm not in such a hurry as I was the other night. Dress as + fast as you can, and I'll go and shake the primrose leaves till you come.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't hurt it,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + North Wind broke out in a little laugh like the breaking of silver + bubbles, and was gone in a moment. Diamond saw—for it was a starlit + night, and the mass of hay was at a low ebb now—the gleam of + something vanishing down the stair, and, springing out of bed, dressed + himself as fast as ever he could. Then he crept out into the yard, through + the door in the wall, and away to the primrose. Behind it stood North + Wind, leaning over it, and looking at the flower as if she had been its + mother. + </p> + <p> + “Come along,” she said, jumping up and holding out her hand. + </p> + <p> + Diamond took her hand. It was cold, but so pleasant and full of life, it + was better than warm. She led him across the garden. With one bound she + was on the top of the wall. Diamond was left at the foot. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, stop!” he cried. “Please, I can't jump like that.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't try” said North Wind, who from the top looked down a foot + taller than before. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your hand again, and I will, try” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + She reached down, Diamond laid hold of her hand, gave a great spring, and + stood beside her. + </p> + <p> + “This is nice!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Another bound, and they stood in the road by the river. It was full tide, + and the stars were shining clear in its depths, for it lay still, waiting + for the turn to run down again to the sea. They walked along its side. But + they had not walked far before its surface was covered with ripples, and + the stars had vanished from its bosom. + </p> + <p> + And North Wind was now tall as a full-grown girl. Her hair was flying + about her head, and the wind was blowing a breeze down the river. But she + turned aside and went up a narrow lane, and as she went her hair fell down + around her. + </p> + <p> + “I have some rather disagreeable work to do to-night,” she said, “before I + get out to sea, and I must set about it at once. The disagreeable work + must be looked after first.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, she laid hold of Diamond and began to run, gliding along faster + and faster. Diamond kept up with her as well as he could. She made many + turnings and windings, apparently because it was not quite easy to get him + over walls and houses. Once they ran through a hall where they found back + and front doors open. At the foot of the stair North Wind stood still, and + Diamond, hearing a great growl, started in terror, and there, instead of + North Wind, was a huge wolf by his side. He let go his hold in dismay, and + the wolf bounded up the stair. The windows of the house rattled and shook + as if guns were firing, and the sound of a great fall came from above. + Diamond stood with white face staring up at the landing. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” he thought, “North Wind can't be eating one of the children!” + Coming to himself all at once, he rushed after her with his little fist + clenched. There were ladies in long trains going up and down the stairs, + and gentlemen in white neckties attending on them, who stared at him, but + none of them were of the people of the house, and they said nothing. + Before he reached the head of the stair, however, North Wind met him, took + him by the hand, and hurried down and out of the house. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you haven't eaten a baby, North Wind!” said Diamond, very + solemnly. + </p> + <p> + North Wind laughed merrily, and went tripping on faster. Her grassy robe + swept and swirled about her steps, and wherever it passed over withered + leaves, they went fleeing and whirling in spirals, and running on their + edges like wheels, all about her feet. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said at last, “I did not eat a baby. You would not have had to + ask that foolish question if you had not let go your hold of me. You would + have seen how I served a nurse that was calling a child bad names, and + telling her she was wicked. She had been drinking. I saw an ugly gin + bottle in a cupboard.” + </p> + <p> + “And you frightened her?” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I believe so!” answered North Wind laughing merrily. “I flew at her + throat, and she tumbled over on the floor with such a crash that they ran + in. She'll be turned away to-morrow—and quite time, if they knew as + much as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “But didn't you frighten the little one?” + </p> + <p> + “She never saw me. The woman would not have seen me either if she had not + been wicked.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Diamond, dubiously. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you see things,” returned North Wind, “that you wouldn't + understand or know what to do with? Good people see good things; bad + people, bad things.” + </p> + <p> + “Then are you a bad thing?” + </p> + <p> + “No. For you see me, Diamond, dear,” said the girl, and she looked down at + him, and Diamond saw the loving eyes of the great lady beaming from the + depths of her falling hair. + </p> + <p> + “I had to make myself look like a bad thing before she could see me. If I + had put on any other shape than a wolf's she would not have seen me, for + that is what is growing to be her own shape inside of her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean,” said Diamond, “but I suppose it's all + right.” + </p> + <p> + They were now climbing the slope of a grassy ascent. It was Primrose Hill, + in fact, although Diamond had never heard of it. The moment they reached + the top, North Wind stood and turned her face towards London The stars + were still shining clear and cold overhead. There was not a cloud to be + seen. The air was sharp, but Diamond did not find it cold. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said the lady, “whatever you do, do not let my hand go. I might + have lost you the last time, only I was not in a hurry then: now I am in a + hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Yet she stood still for a moment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. NORTH WIND + </h2> + <p> + AND as she stood looking towards London, Diamond saw that she was + trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Are you cold, North Wind?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, Diamond,” she answered, looking down upon him with a smile; “I am + only getting ready to sweep one of my rooms. Those careless, greedy, + untidy children make it in such a mess.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke he could have told by her voice, if he had not seen with his + eyes, that she was growing larger and larger. Her head went up and up + towards the stars; and as she grew, still trembling through all her body, + her hair also grew—longer and longer, and lifted itself from her + head, and went out in black waves. The next moment, however, it fell back + around her, and she grew less and less till she was only a tall woman. + Then she put her hands behind her head, and gathered some of her hair, and + began weaving and knotting it together. When she had done, she bent down + her beautiful face close to his, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Diamond, I am afraid you would not keep hold of me, and if I were to drop + you, I don't know what might happen; so I have been making a place for you + in my hair. Come.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond held out his arms, for with that grand face looking at him, he + believed like a baby. She took him in her hands, threw him over her + shoulder, and said, “Get in, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + And Diamond parted her hair with his hands, crept between, and feeling + about soon found the woven nest. It was just like a pocket, or like the + shawl in which gipsy women carry their children. North Wind put her hands + to her back, felt all about the nest, and finding it safe, said— + </p> + <p> + “Are you comfortable, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + The next moment he was rising in the air. North Wind grew towering up to + the place of the clouds. Her hair went streaming out from her, till it + spread like a mist over the stars. She flung herself abroad in space. + </p> + <p> + Diamond held on by two of the twisted ropes which, parted and interwoven, + formed his shelter, for he could not help being a little afraid. As soon + as he had come to himself, he peeped through the woven meshes, for he did + not dare to look over the top of the nest. The earth was rushing past like + a river or a sea below him. Trees and water and green grass hurried away + beneath. A great roar of wild animals rose as they rushed over the + Zoological Gardens, mixed with a chattering of monkeys and a screaming of + birds; but it died away in a moment behind them. And now there was nothing + but the roofs of houses, sweeping along like a great torrent of stones and + rocks. Chimney-pots fell, and tiles flew from the roofs; but it looked to + him as if they were left behind by the roofs and the chimneys as they + scudded away. There was a great roaring, for the wind was dashing against + London like a sea; but at North Wind's back Diamond, of course, felt + nothing of it all. He was in a perfect calm. He could hear the sound of + it, that was all. + </p> + <p> + By and by he raised himself and looked over the edge of his nest. There + were the houses rushing up and shooting away below him, like a fierce + torrent of rocks instead of water. Then he looked up to the sky, but could + see no stars; they were hidden by the blinding masses of the lady's hair + which swept between. He began to wonder whether she would hear him if he + spoke. He would try. + </p> + <p> + “Please, North Wind,” he said, “what is that noise?” + </p> + <p> + From high over his head came the voice of North Wind, answering him, + gently— + </p> + <p> + “The noise of my besom. I am the old woman that sweeps the cobwebs from + the sky; only I'm busy with the floor now.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes the houses look as if they were running away?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sweeping so fast over them.” + </p> + <p> + “But, please, North Wind, I knew London was very big, but I didn't know it + was so big as this. It seems as if we should never get away from it.” + </p> + <p> + “We are going round and round, else we should have left it long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this the way you sweep, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I go round and round with my great besom.” + </p> + <p> + “Please, would you mind going a little slower, for I want to see the + streets?” + </p> + <p> + “You won't see much now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have nearly swept all the people home.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I forgot,” said Diamond, and was quiet after that, for he did not + want to be troublesome. + </p> + <p> + But she dropped a little towards the roofs of the houses, and Diamond + could see down into the streets. There were very few people about, though. + The lamps flickered and flared again, but nobody seemed to want them. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Diamond espied a little girl coming along a street. She was + dreadfully blown by the wind, and a broom she was trailing behind her was + very troublesome. It seemed as if the wind had a spite at her—it + kept worrying her like a wild beast, and tearing at her rags. She was so + lonely there! + </p> + <p> + “Oh! please, North Wind,” he cried, “won't you help that little girl?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Diamond; I mustn't leave my work.” + </p> + <p> + “But why shouldn't you be kind to her?” + </p> + <p> + “I am kind to her. I am sweeping the wicked smells away.” + </p> + <p> + “But you're kinder to me, dear North Wind. Why shouldn't you be as kind to + her as you are to me?” + </p> + <p> + “There are reasons, Diamond. Everybody can't be done to all the same. + Everybody is not ready for the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't see why I should be kinder used than she.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think nothing's to be done but what you can see, Diamond, you + silly! It's all right. Of course you can help her if you like. You've got + nothing particular to do at this moment; I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do let me help her, then. But you won't be able to wait, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't wait; you must do it yourself. And, mind, the wind will get a + hold of you, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you want me to help her, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Not without having some idea what will happen. If you break down and cry, + that won't be much of a help to her, and it will make a goose of little + Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to go,” said Diamond. “Only there's just one thing—how am I + to get home?” + </p> + <p> + “If you're anxious about that, perhaps you had better go with me. I am + bound to take you home again, if you do.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” cried Diamond, who was still looking after the little girl. “I'm + sure the wind will blow her over, and perhaps kill her. Do let me go.” + </p> + <p> + They had been sweeping more slowly along the line of the street. There was + a lull in the roaring. + </p> + <p> + “Well, though I cannot promise to take you home,” said North Wind, as she + sank nearer and nearer to the tops of the houses, “I can promise you it + will be all right in the end. You will get home somehow. Have you made up + your mind what to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; to help the little girl,” said Diamond firmly. + </p> + <p> + The same moment North Wind dropt into the street and stood, only a tall + lady, but with her hair flying up over the housetops. She put her hands to + her back, took Diamond, and set him down in the street. The same moment he + was caught in the fierce coils of the blast, and all but blown away. North + Wind stepped back a step, and at once towered in stature to the height of + the houses. A chimney-pot clashed at Diamond's feet. He turned in terror, + but it was to look for the little girl, and when he turned again the lady + had vanished, and the wind was roaring along the street as if it had been + the bed of an invisible torrent. The little girl was scudding before the + blast, her hair flying too, and behind her she dragged her broom. Her + little legs were going as fast as ever they could to keep her from + falling. Diamond crept into the shelter of a doorway, thinking to stop + her; but she passed him like a bird, crying gently and pitifully. + </p> + <p> + “Stop! stop! little girl,” shouted Diamond, starting in pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “I can't,” wailed the girl, “the wind won't leave go of me.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond could run faster than she, and he had no broom. In a few moments + he had caught her by the frock, but it tore in his hand, and away went the + little girl. So he had to run again, and this time he ran so fast that he + got before her, and turning round caught her in his arms, when down they + went both together, which made the little girl laugh in the midst of her + crying. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” asked Diamond, rubbing the elbow that had stuck + farthest out. The arm it belonged to was twined round a lamp-post as he + stood between the little girl and the wind. + </p> + <p> + “Home,” she said, gasping for breath. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will go with you,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + And then they were silent for a while, for the wind blew worse than ever, + and they had both to hold on to the lamp-post. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your crossing?” asked the girl at length. + </p> + <p> + “I don't sweep,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What do you do, then?” asked she. “You ain't big enough for most things.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what I do do,” answered he, feeling rather ashamed. + “Nothing, I suppose. My father's Mr. Coleman's coachman.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you a father?” she said, staring at him as if a boy with a father + was a natural curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Haven't you?” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got.” And she began to cry + again. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “But you must go somewheres.” + </p> + <p> + “Move on,” said the voice of a policeman behind them. + </p> + <p> + “I told you so,” said the girl. “You must go somewheres. They're always at + it.” + </p> + <p> + “But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish she would.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked Diamond, quite bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “She would if she was my mother. But she wouldn't lie abed a-cuddlin' of + her ugly old bones, and laugh to hear me crying at the door.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean she won't let you in to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “It'll be a good chance if she does.” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you out so late, then?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “My crossing's a long way off at the West End, and I had been indulgin' in + door-steps and mewses.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd better have a try anyhow,” said Diamond. “Come along.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke Diamond thought he caught a glimpse of North Wind turning a + corner in front of them; and when they turned the corner too, they found + it quiet there, but he saw nothing of the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Now you lead me,” he said, taking her hand, “and I'll take care of you.” + </p> + <p> + The girl withdrew her hand, but only to dry her eyes with her frock, for + the other had enough to do with her broom. She put it in his again, and + led him, turning after turning, until they stopped at a cellar-door in a + very dirty lane. There she knocked. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't like to live here,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you would, if you had nowhere else to go to,” answered the girl. + “I only wish we may get in.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to go in,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you mean to go, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Home to my home.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't exactly know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you're worse off than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, for North Wind—” began Diamond, and stopped, he hardly knew + why. + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the girl, as she held her ear to the door listening. + </p> + <p> + But Diamond did not reply. Neither did old Sal. + </p> + <p> + “I told you so,” said the girl. “She is wide awake hearkening. But we + don't get in.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do, then?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Move on,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, anywheres. Bless you, I'm used to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hadn't you better come home with me, then?” + </p> + <p> + “That's a good joke, when you don't know where it is. Come on.” + </p> + <p> + “But where?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nowheres in particular. Come on.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond obeyed. The wind had now fallen considerably. They wandered on and + on, turning in this direction and that, without any reason for one way + more than another, until they had got out of the thick of the houses into + a waste kind of place. By this time they were both very tired. Diamond + felt a good deal inclined to cry, and thought he had been very silly to + get down from the back of North Wind; not that he would have minded it if + he had done the girl any good; but he thought he had been of no use to + her. He was mistaken there, for she was far happier for having Diamond + with her than if she had been wandering about alone. She did not seem so + tired as he was. + </p> + <p> + “Do let us rest a bit,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” she answered. “There's something like a railway there. + Perhaps there's an open arch.” + </p> + <p> + They went towards it and found one, and, better still, there was an empty + barrel lying under the arch. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! here we are!” said the girl. “A barrel's the jolliest bed going—on + the tramp, I mean. We'll have forty winks, and then go on again.” + </p> + <p> + She crept in, and Diamond crept in beside her. They put their arms round + each other, and when he began to grow warm, Diamond's courage began to + come back. + </p> + <p> + “This is jolly!” he said. “I'm so glad!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so much of it,” said the girl. “I'm used to it, I suppose. + But I can't think how a kid like you comes to be out all alone this time + o' night.” + </p> + <p> + She called him a kid, but she was not really a month older than he was; + only she had had to work for her bread, and that so soon makes people + older. + </p> + <p> + “But I shouldn't have been out so late if I hadn't got down to help you,” + said Diamond. “North Wind is gone home long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you must ha' got out o' one o' them Hidget Asylms,” said the + girl. “You said something about the north wind afore that I couldn't get + the rights of.” + </p> + <p> + So now, for the sake of his character, Diamond had to tell her the whole + story. + </p> + <p> + She did not believe a word of it. She said he wasn't such a flat as to + believe all that bosh. But as she spoke there came a great blast of wind + through the arch, and set the barrel rolling. So they made haste to get + out of it, for they had no notion of being rolled over and over as if they + had been packed tight and wouldn't hurt, like a barrel of herrings. + </p> + <p> + “I thought we should have had a sleep,” said Diamond; “but I can't say I'm + very sleepy after all. Come, let's go on again.” + </p> + <p> + They wandered on and on, sometimes sitting on a door-step, but always + turning into lanes or fields when they had a chance. + </p> + <p> + They found themselves at last on a rising ground that sloped rather + steeply on the other side. It was a waste kind of spot below, bounded by + an irregular wall, with a few doors in it. Outside lay broken things in + general, from garden rollers to flower-pots and wine-bottles. But the + moment they reached the brow of the rising ground, a gust of wind seized + them and blew them down hill as fast as they could run. Nor could Diamond + stop before he went bang against one of the doors in the wall. To his + dismay it burst open. When they came to themselves they peeped in. It was + the back door of a garden. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” cried Diamond, after staring for a few moments, “I thought so! + North Wind takes nobody in! Here I am in master's garden! I tell you what, + little girl, you just bore a hole in old Sal's wall, and put your mouth to + it, and say, 'Please, North Wind, mayn't I go out with you?' and then + you'll see what'll come.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay I shall. But I'm out in the wind too often already to want more + of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I said with the North Wind, not in it.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all one.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not all one.” + </p> + <p> + “It is all one.” + </p> + <p> + “But I know best.” + </p> + <p> + “And I know better. I'll box your ears,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + Diamond got very angry. But he remembered that even if she did box his + ears, he musn't box hers again, for she was a girl, and all that boys must + do, if girls are rude, is to go away and leave them. So he went in at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, mister” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + This brought Diamond to his senses. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry I was cross,” he said. “Come in, and my mother will give you + some breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. I must be off to my crossing. It's morning now.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry for you,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is a life to be tired of—what with old Sal, and so many + holes in my shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you're so good. I should kill myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, you wouldn't! When I think of it, I always want to see what's + coming next, and so I always wait till next is over. Well! I suppose + there's somebody happy somewheres. But it ain't in them carriages. Oh my! + how they do look sometimes—fit to bite your head off! Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + She ran up the hill and disappeared behind it. Then Diamond shut the door + as he best could, and ran through the kitchen-garden to the stable. And + wasn't he glad to get into his own blessed bed again! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE SUMMER-HOUSE + </h2> + <p> + DIAMOND said nothing to his mother about his adventures. He had half a + notion that North Wind was a friend of his mother, and that, if she did + not know all about it, at least she did not mind his going anywhere with + the lady of the wind. At the same time he doubted whether he might not + appear to be telling stories if he told all, especially as he could hardly + believe it himself when he thought about it in the middle of the day, + although when the twilight was once half-way on to night he had no doubt + about it, at least for the first few days after he had been with her. The + girl that swept the crossing had certainly refused to believe him. + Besides, he felt sure that North Wind would tell him if he ought to speak. + </p> + <p> + It was some time before he saw the lady of the wind again. Indeed nothing + remarkable took place in Diamond's history until the following week. This + was what happened then. Diamond the horse wanted new shoes, and Diamond's + father took him out of the stable, and was just getting on his back to + ride him to the forge, when he saw his little boy standing by the pump, + and looking at him wistfully. Then the coachman took his foot out of the + stirrup, left his hold of the mane and bridle, came across to his boy, + lifted him up, and setting him on the horse's back, told him to sit up + like a man. He then led away both Diamonds together. + </p> + <p> + The boy atop felt not a little tremulous as the great muscles that lifted + the legs of the horse knotted and relaxed against his legs, and he cowered + towards the withers, grasping with his hands the bit of mane worn short by + the collar; but when his father looked back at him, saying once more, “Sit + up, Diamond,” he let the mane go and sat up, notwithstanding that the + horse, thinking, I suppose, that his master had said to him, “Come up, + Diamond,” stepped out faster. For both the Diamonds were just grandly + obedient. And Diamond soon found that, as he was obedient to his father, + so the horse was obedient to him. For he had not ridden far before he + found courage to reach forward and catch hold of the bridle, and when his + father, whose hand was upon it, felt the boy pull it towards him, he + looked up and smiled, and, well pleased, let go his hold, and left Diamond + to guide Diamond; and the boy soon found that he could do so perfectly. It + was a grand thing to be able to guide a great beast like that. And another + discovery he made was that, in order to guide the horse, he had in a + measure to obey the horse first. If he did not yield his body to the + motions of the horse's body, he could not guide him; he must fall off. + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith lived at some distance, deeper into London. As they crossed + the angle of a square, Diamond, who was now quite comfortable on his + living throne, was glancing this way and that in a gentle pride, when he + saw a girl sweeping a crossing scuddingly before a lady. The lady was his + father's mistress, Mrs. Coleman, and the little girl was she for whose + sake he had got off North Wind's back. He drew Diamond's bridle in eager + anxiety to see whether her outstretched hand would gather a penny from + Mrs. Coleman. But she had given one at the last crossing, and the hand + returned only to grasp its broom. Diamond could not bear it. He had a + penny in his pocket, a gift of the same lady the day before, and he + tumbled off his horse to give it to the girl. He tumbled off, I say, for + he did tumble when he reached the ground. But he got up in an instant, and + ran, searching his pocket as he ran. She made him a pretty courtesy when + he offered his treasure, but with a bewildered stare. She thought first: + “Then he was on the back of the North Wind after all!” but, looking up at + the sound of the horse's feet on the paved crossing, she changed her idea, + saying to herself, “North Wind is his father's horse! That's the secret of + it! Why couldn't he say so?” And she had a mind to refuse the penny. But + his smile put it all right, and she not only took his penny but put it in + her mouth with a “Thank you, mister. Did they wollop you then?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no!” answered Diamond. “They never wollops me.” + </p> + <p> + “Lor!” said the little girl, and was speechless. + </p> + <p> + Meantime his father, looking up, and seeing the horse's back bare, + suffered a pang of awful dread, but the next moment catching sight of him, + took him up and put him on, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Don't get off again, Diamond. The horse might have put his foot on you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, father,” answered the boy, and rode on in majestic safety. + </p> + <p> + The summer drew near, warm and splendid. Miss Coleman was a little better + in health, and sat a good deal in the garden. One day she saw Diamond + peeping through the shrubbery, and called him. He talked to her so frankly + that she often sent for him after that, and by degrees it came about that + he had leave to run in the garden as he pleased. He never touched any of + the flowers or blossoms, for he was not like some boys who cannot enjoy a + thing without pulling it to pieces, and so preventing every one from + enjoying it after them. + </p> + <p> + A week even makes such a long time in a child's life, that Diamond had + begun once more to feel as if North Wind were a dream of some far-off + year. + </p> + <p> + One hot evening, he had been sitting with the young mistress, as they + called her, in a little summer-house at the bottom of the lawn—a + wonderful thing for beauty, the boy thought, for a little window in the + side of it was made of coloured glass. It grew dusky, and the lady began + to feel chill, and went in, leaving the boy in the summer-house. He sat + there gazing out at a bed of tulips, which, although they had closed for + the night, could not go quite asleep for the wind that kept waving them + about. All at once he saw a great bumble-bee fly out of one of the tulips. + </p> + <p> + “There! that is something done,” said a voice—a gentle, merry, + childish voice, but so tiny. “At last it was. I thought he would have had + to stay there all night, poor fellow! I did.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond could not tell whether the voice was near or far away, it was so + small and yet so clear. He had never seen a fairy, but he had heard of + such, and he began to look all about for one. And there was the tiniest + creature sliding down the stem of the tulip! + </p> + <p> + “Are you the fairy that herds the bees?” he asked, going out of the + summer-house, and down on his knees on the green shore of the tulip-bed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a fairy,” answered the little creature. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “It would become you better to ask how you are to know it.” + </p> + <p> + “You've just told me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But what's the use of knowing a thing only because you're told it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how am I to know you are not a fairy? You do look very like one.” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, fairies are much bigger than you see me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Diamond reflectively; “I thought they were very little.” + </p> + <p> + “But they might be tremendously bigger than I am, and yet not very big. + Why, I could be six times the size I am, and not be very huge. Besides, a + fairy can't grow big and little at will, though the nursery-tales do say + so: they don't know better. You stupid Diamond! have you never seen me + before?” + </p> + <p> + And, as she spoke, a moan of wind bent the tulips almost to the ground, + and the creature laid her hand on Diamond's shoulder. In a moment he knew + that it was North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “I am very stupid,” he said; “but I never saw you so small before, not + even when you were nursing the primrose.” + </p> + <p> + “Must you see me every size that can be measured before you know me, + Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “But how could I think it was you taking care of a great stupid + bumble-bee?” + </p> + <p> + “The more stupid he was the more need he had to be taken care of. What + with sucking honey and trying to open the door, he was nearly dated; and + when it opened in the morning to let the sun see the tulip's heart, what + would the sun have thought to find such a stupid thing lying there—with + wings too?” + </p> + <p> + “But how do you have time to look after bees?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't look after bees. I had this one to look after. It was hard work, + though.” + </p> + <p> + “Hard work! Why, you could blow a chimney down, or—or a boy's cap + off,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Both are easier than to blow a tulip open. But I scarcely know the + difference between hard and easy. I am always able for what I have to do. + When I see my work, I just rush at it—and it is done. But I mustn't + chatter. I have got to sink a ship to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Sink a ship! What! with men in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and women too.” + </p> + <p> + “How dreadful! I wish you wouldn't talk so.” + </p> + <p> + “It is rather dreadful. But it is my work. I must do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won't ask me to go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won't ask you. But you must come for all that.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't then.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you?” And North Wind grew a tall lady, and looked him in the eyes, + and Diamond said— + </p> + <p> + “Please take me. You cannot be cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I could not be cruel if I would. I can do nothing cruel, although I + often do what looks like cruel to those who do not know what I really am + doing. The people they say I drown, I only carry away to—to—to—well, + the back of the North Wind—that is what they used to call it long + ago, only I never saw the place.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you carry them there if you never saw it?” + </p> + <p> + “I know the way.” + </p> + <p> + “But how is it you never saw it?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it is behind me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can look round.” + </p> + <p> + “Not far enough to see my own back. No; I always look before me. In fact, + I grow quite blind and deaf when I try to see my back. I only mind my + work.” + </p> + <p> + “But how does it be your work?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that I can't tell you. I only know it is, because when I do it I feel + all right, and when I don't I feel all wrong. East Wind says—only + one does not exactly know how much to believe of what she says, for she is + very naughty sometimes—she says it is all managed by a baby; but + whether she is good or naughty when she says that, I don't know. I just + stick to my work. It is all one to me to let a bee out of a tulip, or to + sweep the cobwebs from the sky. You would like to go with me to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to see a ship sunk.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose I had to take you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, of course I must go.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a good Diamond.—I think I had better be growing a bit. Only + you must go to bed first. I can't take you till you're in bed. That's the + law about the children. So I had better go and do something else first.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, North Wind,” said Diamond. “What are you going to do first, if + you please?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I may tell you. Jump up on the top of the wall, there.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! and I can't help you—you haven't been to bed yet, you see. Come + out to the road with me, just in front of the coach-house, and I will show + you.” + </p> + <p> + North Wind grew very small indeed, so small that she could not have blown + the dust off a dusty miller, as the Scotch children call a yellow + auricula. Diamond could not even see the blades of grass move as she + flitted along by his foot. They left the lawn, went out by the wicket in + the-coach-house gates, and then crossed the road to the low wall that + separated it from the river. + </p> + <p> + “You can get up on this wall, Diamond,” said North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but my mother has forbidden me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then don't,” said North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “But I can see over,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! to be sure. I can't.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, North Wind gave a little bound, and stood on the top of the + wall. She was just about the height a dragon-fly would be, if it stood on + end. + </p> + <p> + “You darling!” said Diamond, seeing what a lovely little toy-woman she + was. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be impertinent, Master Diamond,” said North Wind. “If there's one + thing makes me more angry than another, it is the way you humans judge + things by their size. I am quite as respectable now as I shall be six + hours after this, when I take an East Indiaman by the royals, twist her + round, and push her under. You have no right to address me in such a + fashion.” + </p> + <p> + But as she spoke, the tiny face wore the smile of a great, grand woman. + She was only having her own beautiful fun out of Diamond, and true woman's + fun never hurts. + </p> + <p> + “But look there!” she resumed. “Do you see a boat with one man in it—a + green and white boat?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; quite well.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a poet.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said it was a bo-at.” + </p> + <p> + “Stupid pet! Don't you know what a poet is?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, a thing to sail on the water in.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps you're not so far wrong. Some poets do carry people over + the sea. But I have no business to talk so much. The man is a poet.” + </p> + <p> + “The boat is a boat,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Can't you spell?” asked North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Not very well.” + </p> + <p> + “So I see. A poet is not a bo-at, as you call it. A poet is a man who is + glad of something, and tries to make other people glad of it too.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! now I know. Like the man in the sweety-shop.” + </p> + <p> + “Not very. But I see it is no use. I wasn't sent to tell you, and so I + can't tell you. I must be off. Only first just look at the man.” + </p> + <p> + “He's not much of a rower” said Diamond—“paddling first with one fin + and then with the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here!” said North Wind. + </p> + <p> + And she flashed like a dragon-fly across the water, whose surface rippled + and puckered as she passed. The next moment the man in the boat glanced + about him, and bent to his oars. The boat flew over the rippling water. + Man and boat and river were awake. The same instant almost, North Wind + perched again upon the river wall. + </p> + <p> + “How did you do that?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I blew in his face,” answered North Wind. “I don't see how that could do + it,” said Diamond. “I daresay not. And therefore you will say you don't + believe it could.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, dear North Wind. I know you too well not to believe you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I blew in his face, and that woke him up.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was the good of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why! don't you see? Look at him—how he is pulling. I blew the mist + out of him.” + </p> + <p> + “How was that?” + </p> + <p> + “That is just what I cannot tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I have to do ten thousand things without being able to tell how.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like that,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + He was staring after the boat. Hearing no answer, he looked down to the + wall. + </p> + <p> + North Wind was gone. Away across the river went a long ripple—what + sailors call a cat's paw. The man in the boat was putting up a sail. The + moon was coming to herself on the edge of a great cloud, and the sail + began to shine white. Diamond rubbed his eyes, and wondered what it was + all about. Things seemed going on around him, and all to understand each + other, but he could make nothing of it. So he put his hands in his + pockets, and went in to have his tea. The night was very hot, for the wind + had fallen again. + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem very well to-night, Diamond,” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite well, mother,” returned Diamond, who was only puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better go to bed,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, mother,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + He stopped for one moment to look out of the window. Above the moon the + clouds were going different ways. Somehow or other this troubled him, but, + notwithstanding, he was soon fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + He woke in the middle of the night and the darkness. A terrible noise was + rumbling overhead, like the rolling beat of great drums echoing through a + brazen vault. The roof of the loft in which he lay had no ceiling; only + the tiles were between him and the sky. For a while he could not come + quite awake, for the noise kept beating him down, so that his heart was + troubled and fluttered painfully. A second peal of thunder burst over his + head, and almost choked him with fear. Nor did he recover until the great + blast that followed, having torn some tiles off the roof, sent a spout of + wind down into his bed and over his face, which brought him wide awake, + and gave him back his courage. The same moment he heard a mighty yet + musical voice calling him. + </p> + <p> + “Come up, Diamond,” it said. “It's all ready. I'm waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + He looked out of the bed, and saw a gigantic, powerful, but most lovely + arm—with a hand whose fingers were nothing the less ladylike that + they could have strangled a boa-constrictor, or choked a tigress off its + prey—stretched down through a big hole in the roof. Without a + moment's hesitation he reached out his tiny one, and laid it in the grand + palm before him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. OUT IN THE STORM + </h2> + <p> + THE hand felt its way up his arm, and, grasping it gently and strongly + above the elbow, lifted Diamond from the bed. The moment he was through + the hole in the roof, all the winds of heaven seemed to lay hold upon him, + and buffet him hither and thither. His hair blew one way, his night-gown + another, his legs threatened to float from under him, and his head to grow + dizzy with the swiftness of the invisible assailant. Cowering, he clung + with the other hand to the huge hand which held his arm, and fear invaded + his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, North Wind!” he murmured, but the words vanished from his lips as he + had seen the soap-bubbles that burst too soon vanish from the mouth of his + pipe. The wind caught them, and they were nowhere. They couldn't get out + at all, but were torn away and strangled. And yet North Wind heard them, + and in her answer it seemed to Diamond that just because she was so big + and could not help it, and just because her ear and her mouth must seem to + him so dreadfully far away, she spoke to him more tenderly and graciously + than ever before. Her voice was like the bass of a deep organ, without the + groan in it; like the most delicate of violin tones without the wail in + it; like the most glorious of trumpet-ejaculations without the defiance in + it; like the sound of falling water without the clatter and clash in it: + it was like all of them and neither of them—all of them without + their faults, each of them without its peculiarity: after all, it was more + like his mother's voice than anything else in the world. + </p> + <p> + “Diamond, dear,” she said, “be a man. What is fearful to you is not the + least fearful to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But it can't hurt you,” murmured Diamond, “for you're it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if I'm it, and have you in my arms, how can it hurt you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes! I see,” whispered Diamond. “But it looks so dreadful, and it + pushes me about so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it does, my dear. That is what it was sent for.” + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, a peal of thunder which shook Diamond's heart against + the sides of his bosom hurtled out of the heavens: I cannot say out of the + sky, for there was no sky. Diamond had not seen the lightning, for he had + been intent on finding the face of North Wind. Every moment the folds of + her garment would sweep across his eyes and blind him, but between, he + could just persuade himself that he saw great glories of woman's eyes + looking down through rifts in the mountainous clouds over his head. + </p> + <p> + He trembled so at the thunder, that his knees failed him, and he sunk down + at North Wind's feet, and clasped her round the column of her ankle. She + instantly stooped, lifted him from the roof—up—up into her + bosom, and held him there, saying, as if to an inconsolable child— + </p> + <p> + “Diamond, dear, this will never do.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, it will,” answered Diamond. “I am all right now—quite + comfortable, I assure you, dear North Wind. If you will only let me stay + here, I shall be all right indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will feel the wind here, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind that a bit, so long as I feel your arms through it,” + answered Diamond, nestling closer to her grand bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Brave boy!” returned North Wind, pressing him closer. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Diamond, “I don't see that. It's not courage at all, so long as + I feel you there.” + </p> + <p> + “But hadn't you better get into my hair? Then you would not feel the wind; + you will here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but, dear North Wind, you don't know how nice it is to feel your arms + about me. It is a thousand times better to have them and the wind + together, than to have only your hair and the back of your neck and no + wind at all.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is surely more comfortable there?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps; but I begin to think there are better things than being + comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed there are. Well, I will keep you in front of me. You will + feel the wind, but not too much. I shall only want one arm to take care of + you; the other will be quite enough to sink the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear North Wind! how can you talk so?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy, I never talk; I always mean what I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do mean to sink the ship with the other hand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not like you.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite easily. Here you are taking care of a poor little boy with one arm, + and there you are sinking a ship with the other. It can't be like you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but which is me? I can't be two mes, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Nobody can be two mes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, which me is me?” + </p> + <p> + “Now I must think. There looks to be two.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That's the very point.—You can't be knowing the thing you + don't know, can you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Which me do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “The kindest, goodest, best me in the world,” answered Diamond, clinging + to North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Why am I good to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever done anything for me?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I must be good to you because I choose to be good to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I choose?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—because—because you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I like to be good to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, except it be because it's good to be good to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it; I am good to you because I like to be good.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why shouldn't you be good to other people as well as to me?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I don't know. Why shouldn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know either. Then why shouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is again,” said Diamond. “I don't see that you are. It looks + quite the other thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but listen to me, Diamond. You know the one me, you say, and that + is good.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the other me as well?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I can't. I shouldn't like to.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is. You don't know the other me. You are sure of one of them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are sure there can't be two mes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the me you don't know must be the same as the me you do know,—else + there would be two mes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the other me you don't know must be as kind as the me you do know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, I tell you that it is so, only it doesn't look like it. That I + confess freely. Have you anything more to object?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, dear North Wind; I am quite satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will tell you something you might object. You might say that the + me you know is like the other me, and that I am cruel all through.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that can't be, because you are so kind.” + </p> + <p> + “But that kindness might be only a pretence for the sake of being more + cruel afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond clung to her tighter than ever, crying— + </p> + <p> + “No, no, dear North Wind; I can't believe that. I don't believe it. I + won't believe it. That would kill me. I love you, and you must love me, + else how did I come to love you? How could you know how to put on such a + beautiful face if you did not love me and the rest? No. You may sink as + many ships as you like, and I won't say another word. I can't say I shall + like to see it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “That's quite another thing,” said North Wind; and as she spoke she gave + one spring from the roof of the hay-loft, and rushed up into the clouds, + with Diamond on her left arm close to her heart. And as if the clouds knew + she had come, they burst into a fresh jubilation of thunderous light. For + a few moments, Diamond seemed to be borne up through the depths of an + ocean of dazzling flame; the next, the winds were writhing around him like + a storm of serpents. For they were in the midst of the clouds and mists, + and they of course took the shapes of the wind, eddying and wreathing and + whirling and shooting and dashing about like grey and black water, so that + it was as if the wind itself had taken shape, and he saw the grey and + black wind tossing and raving most madly all about him. Now it blinded him + by smiting him upon the eyes; now it deafened him by bellowing in his + ears; for even when the thunder came he knew now that it was the billows + of the great ocean of the air dashing against each other in their haste to + fill the hollow scooped out by the lightning; now it took his breath quite + away by sucking it from his body with the speed of its rush. But he did + not mind it. He only gasped first and then laughed, for the arm of North + Wind was about him, and he was leaning against her bosom. It is quite + impossible for me to describe what he saw. Did you ever watch a great wave + shoot into a winding passage amongst rocks? If you ever did, you would see + that the water rushed every way at once, some of it even turning back and + opposing the rest; greater confusion you might see nowhere except in a + crowd of frightened people. Well, the wind was like that, except that it + went much faster, and therefore was much wilder, and twisted and shot and + curled and dodged and clashed and raved ten times more madly than anything + else in creation except human passions. Diamond saw the threads of the + lady's hair streaking it all. In parts indeed he could not tell which was + hair and which was black storm and vapour. It seemed sometimes that all + the great billows of mist-muddy wind were woven out of the crossing lines + of North Wind's infinite hair, sweeping in endless intertwistings. And + Diamond felt as the wind seized on his hair, which his mother kept rather + long, as if he too was a part of the storm, and some of its life went out + from him. But so sheltered was he by North Wind's arm and bosom that only + at times, in the fiercer onslaught of some curl-billowed eddy, did he + recognise for a moment how wild was the storm in which he was carried, + nestling in its very core and formative centre. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Diamond likewise that they were motionless in this centre, + and that all the confusion and fighting went on around them. Flash after + flash illuminated the fierce chaos, revealing in varied yellow and blue + and grey and dusky red the vapourous contention; peal after peal of + thunder tore the infinite waste; but it seemed to Diamond that North Wind + and he were motionless, all but the hair. It was not so. They were + sweeping with the speed of the wind itself towards the sea. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE CATHEDRAL + </h2> + <p> + I MUST not go on describing what cannot be described, for nothing is more + wearisome. + </p> + <p> + Before they reached the sea, Diamond felt North Wind's hair just beginning + to fall about him. + </p> + <p> + “Is the storm over, North Wind?” he called out. + </p> + <p> + “No, Diamond. I am only waiting a moment to set you down. You would not + like to see the ship sunk, and I am going to give you a place to stop in + till I come back for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! thank you,” said Diamond. “I shall be sorry to leave you, North Wind, + but I would rather not see the ship go down. And I'm afraid the poor + people will cry, and I should hear them. Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + “There are a good many passengers on board; and to tell the truth, + Diamond, I don't care about your hearing the cry you speak of. I am afraid + you would not get it out of your little head again for a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you bear it then, North Wind? For I am sure you are kind. I + shall never doubt that again.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you how I am able to bear it, Diamond: I am always hearing, + through every noise, through all the noise I am making myself even, the + sound of a far-off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it + means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it + were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in + which I make such a storm; but what I do hear is quite enough to make me + able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could + hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it wouldn't,” returned Diamond, stoutly. “For they wouldn't hear the + music of the far-away song; and if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. + You see you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it is like. + Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; that it is coming + to swallow up all cries.” + </p> + <p> + “But that won't do them any good—the people, I mean,” persisted + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “It must. It must,” said North Wind, hurriedly. “It wouldn't be the song + it seems to be if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain too, and + set them singing it themselves with the rest. I am sure it will. And do + you know, ever since I knew I had hair, that is, ever since it began to go + out and away, that song has been coming nearer and nearer. Only I must say + it was some thousand years before I heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you say it was coming nearer when you did not hear it?” asked + doubting little Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Since I began to hear it, I know it is growing louder, therefore I judge + it was coming nearer and nearer until I did hear it first. I'm not so very + old, you know—a few thousand years only—and I was quite a baby + when I heard the noise first, but I knew it must come from the voices of + people ever so much older and wiser than I was. I can't sing at all, + except now and then, and I can never tell what my song is going to be; I + only know what it is after I have sung it.—But this will never do. + Will you stop here?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see anywhere to stop,” said Diamond. “Your hair is all down like + a darkness, and I can't see through it if I knock my eyes into it ever so + much.” + </p> + <p> + “Look, then,” said North Wind; and, with one sweep of her great white arm, + she swept yards deep of darkness like a great curtain from before the face + of the boy. + </p> + <p> + And lo! it was a blue night, lit up with stars. Where it did not shine + with stars it shimmered with the milk of the stars, except where, just + opposite to Diamond's face, the grey towers of a cathedral blotted out + each its own shape of sky and stars. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what's that?” cried Diamond, struck with a kind of terror, for he had + never seen a cathedral, and it rose before him with an awful reality in + the midst of the wide spaces, conquering emptiness with grandeur. + </p> + <p> + “A very good place for you to wait in,” said North Wind. “But we shall go + in, and you shall judge for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + There was an open door in the middle of one of the towers, leading out + upon the roof, and through it they passed. Then North Wind set Diamond on + his feet, and he found himself at the top of a stone stair, which went + twisting away down into the darkness for only a little light came in at + the door. It was enough, however, to allow Diamond to see that North Wind + stood beside him. He looked up to find her face, and saw that she was no + longer a beautiful giantess, but the tall gracious lady he liked best to + see. She took his hand, and, giving him the broad part of the spiral stair + to walk on, led him down a good way; then, opening another little door, + led him out upon a narrow gallery that ran all round the central part of + the church, on the ledges of the windows of the clerestory, and through + openings in the parts of the wall that divided the windows from each + other. It was very narrow, and except when they were passing through the + wall, Diamond saw nothing to keep him from falling into the church. It lay + below him like a great silent gulf hollowed in stone, and he held his + breath for fear as he looked down. + </p> + <p> + “What are you trembling for, little Diamond?” said the lady, as she walked + gently along, with her hand held out behind her leading him, for there was + not breadth enough for them to walk side by side. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid of falling down there,” answered Diamond. “It is so deep + down.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, rather,” answered North Wind; “but you were a hundred times higher a + few minutes ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, but somebody's arm was about me then,” said Diamond, putting his + little mouth to the beautiful cold hand that had a hold of his. + </p> + <p> + “What a dear little warm mouth you've got!” said North Wind. “It is a pity + you should talk nonsense with it. Don't you know I have a hold of you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I'm walking on my own legs, and they might slip. I can't trust + myself so well as your arms.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have a hold of you, I tell you, foolish child.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but somehow I can't feel comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “If you were to fall, and my hold of you were to give way, I should be + down after you in a less moment than a lady's watch can tick, and catch + you long before you had reached the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it though,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh!” he screamed the next moment, bent double with terror, for + North Wind had let go her hold of his hand, and had vanished, leaving him + standing as if rooted to the gallery. + </p> + <p> + She left the words, “Come after me,” sounding in his ears. + </p> + <p> + But move he dared not. In a moment more he would from very terror have + fallen into the church, but suddenly there came a gentle breath of cool + wind upon his face, and it kept blowing upon him in little puffs, and at + every puff Diamond felt his faintness going away, and his fear with it. + Courage was reviving in his little heart, and still the cool wafts of the + soft wind breathed upon him, and the soft wind was so mighty and strong + within its gentleness, that in a minute more Diamond was marching along + the narrow ledge as fearless for the time as North Wind herself. + </p> + <p> + He walked on and on, with the windows all in a row on one side of him, and + the great empty nave of the church echoing to every one of his brave + strides on the other, until at last he came to a little open door, from + which a broader stair led him down and down and down, till at last all at + once he found himself in the arms of North Wind, who held him close to + her, and kissed him on the forehead. Diamond nestled to her, and murmured + into her bosom,—“Why did you leave me, dear North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I wanted you to walk alone,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “But it is so much nicer here!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay; but I couldn't hold a little coward to my heart. It would make + me so cold!” + </p> + <p> + “But I wasn't brave of myself,” said Diamond, whom my older readers will + have already discovered to be a true child in this, that he was given to + metaphysics. “It was the wind that blew in my face that made me brave. + Wasn't it now, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: I know that. You had to be taught what courage was. And you couldn't + know what it was without feeling it: therefore it was given you. But don't + you feel as if you would try to be brave yourself next time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. But trying is not much.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is—a very great deal, for it is a beginning. And a + beginning is the greatest thing of all. To try to be brave is to be brave. + The coward who tries to be brave is before the man who is brave because he + is made so, and never had to try.” + </p> + <p> + “How kind you are, North Wind!” + </p> + <p> + “I am only just. All kindness is but justice. We owe it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite understand that.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; you will some day. There is no hurry about understanding it + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Who blew the wind on me that made me brave?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore you can believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; of course. But how was it that such a little breath could be so + strong?” + </p> + <p> + “That I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “But you made it strong?” + </p> + <p> + “No: I only blew it. I knew it would make you strong, just as it did the + man in the boat, you remember. But how my breath has that power I cannot + tell. It was put into it when I was made. That is all I know. But really I + must be going about my work.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! the poor ship! I wish you would stop here, and let the poor ship go.” + </p> + <p> + “That I dare not do. Will you stop here till I come back?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You won't be long?” + </p> + <p> + “Not longer than I can help. Trust me, you shall get home before the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment North Wind was gone, and the next Diamond heard a moaning + about the church, which grew and grew to a roaring. The storm was up + again, and he knew that North Wind's hair was flying. + </p> + <p> + The church was dark. Only a little light came through the windows, which + were almost all of that precious old stained glass which is so much + lovelier than the new. But Diamond could not see how beautiful they were, + for there was not enough of light in the stars to show the colours of + them. He could only just distinguish them from the walls, He looked up, + but could not see the gallery along which he had passed. He could only + tell where it was far up by the faint glimmer of the windows of the + clerestory, whose sills made part of it. The church grew very lonely about + him, and he began to feel like a child whose mother has forsaken it. Only + he knew that to be left alone is not always to be forsaken. + </p> + <p> + He began to feel his way about the place, and for a while went wandering + up and down. His little footsteps waked little answering echoes in the + great house. It wasn't too big to mind him. It was as if the church knew + he was there, and meant to make itself his house. So it went on giving + back an answer to every step, until at length Diamond thought he should + like to say something out loud, and see what the church would answer. But + he found he was afraid to speak. He could not utter a word for fear of the + loneliness. Perhaps it was as well that he did not, for the sound of a + spoken word would have made him feel the place yet more deserted and + empty. But he thought he could sing. He was fond of singing, and at home + he used to sing, to tunes of his own, all the nursery rhymes he knew. So + he began to try `Hey diddle diddle', but it wouldn't do. Then he tried + `Little Boy Blue', but it was no better. Neither would `Sing a Song of + Sixpence' sing itself at all. Then he tried `Poor old Cockytoo', but he + wouldn't do. They all sounded so silly! and he had never thought them + silly before. So he was quiet, and listened to the echoes that came out of + the dark corners in answer to his footsteps. + </p> + <p> + At last he gave a great sigh, and said, “I'm so tired.” But he did not + hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head, for at the + same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps that stretched + across the church, and fell down and hurt his arm. He cried a little + first, and then crawled up the steps on his hands and knees. At the top he + came to a little bit of carpet, on which he lay down; and there he lay + staring at the dull window that rose nearly a hundred feet above his head. + </p> + <p> + Now this was the eastern window of the church, and the moon was at that + moment just on the edge of the horizon. The next, she was peeping over it. + And lo! with the moon, St. John and St. Paul, and the rest of them, began + to dawn in the window in their lovely garments. Diamond did not know that + the wonder-working moon was behind, and he thought all the light was + coming out of the window itself, and that the good old men were appearing + to help him, growing out of the night and the darkness, because he had + hurt his arm, and was very tired and lonely, and North Wind was so long in + coming. So he lay and looked at them backwards over his head, wondering + when they would come down or what they would do next. They were very dim, + for the moonlight was not strong enough for the colours, and he had enough + to do with his eyes trying to make out their shapes. So his eyes grew + tired, and more and more tired, and his eyelids grew so heavy that they + would keep tumbling down over his eyes. He kept lifting them and lifting + them, but every time they were heavier than the last. It was no use: they + were too much for him. Sometimes before he had got them half up, down they + were again; and at length he gave it up quite, and the moment he gave it + up, he was fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE EAST WINDOW + </h2> + <p> + THAT Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange + things he now fancied as taking place. For he thought he heard a sound as + of whispering up in the great window. He tried to open his eyes, but he + could not. And the whispering went on and grew louder and louder, until he + could hear every word that was said. He thought it was the Apostles + talking about him. But he could not open his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “And how comes he to be lying there, St. Peter?” said one. + </p> + <p> + “I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery, under the Nicodemus + window. Perhaps he has fallen down. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, St. Matthew?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such a height. + He must have been killed.” + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do with him? We can't leave him lying there. And we could + not make him comfortable up here in the window: it's rather crowded + already. What do you say, St. Thomas?” + </p> + <p> + “Let's go down and look at him.” + </p> + <p> + There came a rustling, and a chinking, for some time, and then there was a + silence, and Diamond felt somehow that all the Apostles were standing + round him and looking down on him. And still he could not open his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with him, St. Luke?” asked one. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing the matter with him,” answered St. Luke, who must have + joined the company of the Apostles from the next window, one would think. + “He's in a sound sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I have it,” cried another. “This is one of North Wind's tricks. She has + caught him up and dropped him at our door, like a withered leaf or a + foundling baby. I don't understand that woman's conduct, I must say. As if + we hadn't enough to do with our money, without going taking care of other + people's children! That's not what our forefathers built cathedrals for.” + </p> + <p> + Now Diamond could not bear to hear such things against North Wind, who, he + knew, never played anybody a trick. She was far too busy with her own work + for that. He struggled hard to open his eyes, but without success. + </p> + <p> + “She should consider that a church is not a place for pranks, not to + mention that we live in it,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “It certainly is disrespectful of her. But she always is disrespectful. + What right has she to bang at our windows as she has been doing the whole + of this night? I daresay there is glass broken somewhere. I know my blue + robe is in a dreadful mess with the rain first and the dust after. It will + cost me shillings to clean it.” + </p> + <p> + Then Diamond knew that they could not be Apostles, talking like this. They + could only be the sextons and vergers and such-like, who got up at night, + and put on the robes of deans and bishops, and called each other grand + names, as the foolish servants he had heard his father tell of call + themselves lords and ladies, after their masters and mistresses. And he + was so angry at their daring to abuse North Wind, that he jumped up, + crying—“North Wind knows best what she is about. She has a good + right to blow the cobwebs from your windows, for she was sent to do it. + She sweeps them away from grander places, I can tell you, for I've been + with her at it.” + </p> + <p> + This was what he began to say, but as he spoke his eyes came wide open, + and behold, there were neither Apostles nor vergers there—not even a + window with the effigies of holy men in it, but a dark heap of hay all + about him, and the little panes in the roof of his loft glimmering blue in + the light of the morning. Old Diamond was coming awake down below in the + stable. In a moment more he was on his feet, and shaking himself so that + young Diamond's bed trembled under him. + </p> + <p> + “He's grand at shaking himself,” said Diamond. “I wish I could shake + myself like that. But then I can wash myself, and he can't. What fun it + would be to see Old Diamond washing his face with his hoofs and iron + shoes! Wouldn't it be a picture?” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he got up and dressed himself. Then he went out into the + garden. There must have been a tremendous wind in the night, for although + all was quiet now, there lay the little summer-house crushed to the + ground, and over it the great elm-tree, which the wind had broken across, + being much decayed in the middle. Diamond almost cried to see the + wilderness of green leaves, which used to be so far up in the blue air, + tossing about in the breeze, and liking it best when the wind blew it + most, now lying so near the ground, and without any hope of ever getting + up into the deep air again. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder how old the tree is!” thought Diamond. “It must take a long time + to get so near the sky as that poor tree was.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” said a voice beside him, for Diamond had spoken the last + words aloud. + </p> + <p> + Diamond started, and looking around saw a clergyman, a brother of Mrs. + Coleman, who happened to be visiting her. He was a great scholar, and was + in the habit of rising early. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, my man?” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Little Diamond,” answered the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I have heard of you. How do you come to be up so early?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the sham Apostles talked such nonsense, they waked me up.” + </p> + <p> + The clergyman stared. Diamond saw that he had better have held his tongue, + for he could not explain things. + </p> + <p> + “You must have been dreaming, my little man,” said he. “Dear! dear!” he + went on, looking at the tree, “there has been terrible work here. This is + the north wind's doing. What a pity! I wish we lived at the back of it, + I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is that sir?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Away in the Hyperborean regions,” answered the clergyman, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of the place,” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay not,” answered the clergyman; “but if this tree had been there + now, it would not have been blown down, for there is no wind there.” + </p> + <p> + “But, please, sir, if it had been there,” said Diamond, “we should not + have had to be sorry for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we shouldn't have had to be glad for it, either.” + </p> + <p> + “You're quite right, my boy,” said the clergyman, looking at him very + kindly, as he turned away to the house, with his eyes bent towards the + earth. But Diamond thought within himself, “I will ask North Wind next + time I see her to take me to that country. I think she did speak about it + once before.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. HOW DIAMOND GOT TO THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + </h2> + <p> + WHEN Diamond went home to breakfast, he found his father and mother + already seated at the table. They were both busy with their bread and + butter, and Diamond sat himself down in his usual place. His mother looked + up at him, and, after watching him for a moment, said: + </p> + <p> + “I don't think the boy is looking well, husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? Well, I don't know. I think he looks pretty bobbish. How do + you feel yourself, Diamond, my boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite well, thank you, father; at least, I think I've got a little + headache.” + </p> + <p> + “There! I told you,” said his father and mother both at once. + </p> + <p> + “The child's very poorly” added his mother. + </p> + <p> + “The child's quite well,” added his father. + </p> + <p> + And then they both laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said his mother, “I've had a letter from my sister at + Sandwich.” + </p> + <p> + “Sleepy old hole!” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Don't abuse the place; there's good people in it,” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Right, old lady,” returned his father; “only I don't believe there are + more than two pair of carriage-horses in the whole blessed place.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, people can get to heaven without carriages—or coachmen + either, husband. Not that I should like to go without my coachman, you + know. But about the boy?” + </p> + <p> + “What boy?” + </p> + <p> + “That boy, there, staring at you with his goggle-eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I got goggle-eyes, mother?” asked Diamond, a little dismayed. + </p> + <p> + “Not too goggle,” said his mother, who was quite proud of her boy's eyes, + only did not want to make him vain. + </p> + <p> + “Not too goggle; only you need not stare so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what about him?” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “I told you I had got a letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, from your sister; not from Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “La, husband! you've got out of bed the wrong leg first this morning, I do + believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I always get out with both at once,” said his father, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Well, listen then. His aunt wants the boy to go down and see her.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's why you want to make out that he ain't looking well.” + </p> + <p> + “No more he is. I think he had better go.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't care, if you can find the money,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “I'll manage that,” said his mother; and so it was agreed that Diamond + should go to Sandwich. + </p> + <p> + I will not describe the preparations Diamond made. You would have thought + he had been going on a three months' voyage. Nor will I describe the + journey, for our business is now at the place. He was met at the station + by his aunt, a cheerful middle-aged woman, and conveyed in safety to the + sleepy old town, as his father called it. And no wonder that it was + sleepy, for it was nearly dead of old age. + </p> + <p> + Diamond went about staring with his beautiful goggle-eyes, at the quaint + old streets, and the shops, and the houses. Everything looked very + strange, indeed; for here was a town abandoned by its nurse, the sea, like + an old oyster left on the shore till it gaped for weariness. It used to be + one of the five chief seaports in England, but it began to hold itself too + high, and the consequence was the sea grew less and less intimate with it, + gradually drew back, and kept more to itself, till at length it left it + high and dry: Sandwich was a seaport no more; the sea went on with its own + tide-business a long way off, and forgot it. Of course it went to sleep, + and had no more to do with ships. That's what comes to cities and nations, + and boys and girls, who say, “I can do without your help. I'm enough for + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond soon made great friends with an old woman who kept a toyshop, for + his mother had given him twopence for pocket-money before he left, and he + had gone into her shop to spend it, and she got talking to him. She looked + very funny, because she had not got any teeth, but Diamond liked her, and + went often to her shop, although he had nothing to spend there after the + twopence was gone. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon he had been wandering rather wearily about the streets for + some time. It was a hot day, and he felt tired. As he passed the toyshop, + he stepped in. + </p> + <p> + “Please may I sit down for a minute on this box?” he said, thinking the + old woman was somewhere in the shop. But he got no answer, and sat down + without one. Around him were a great many toys of all prices, from a penny + up to shillings. All at once he heard a gentle whirring somewhere amongst + them. It made him start and look behind him. There were the sails of a + windmill going round and round almost close to his ear. He thought at + first it must be one of those toys which are wound up and go with + clockwork; but no, it was a common penny toy, with the windmill at the end + of a whistle, and when the whistle blows the windmill goes. But the wonder + was that there was no one at the whistle end blowing, and yet the sails + were turning round and round—now faster, now slower, now faster + again. + </p> + <p> + “What can it mean?” said Diamond, aloud. + </p> + <p> + “It means me,” said the tiniest voice he had ever heard. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, please?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, really, I begin to be ashamed of you,” said the voice. “I wonder + how long it will be before you know me; or how often I might take you in + before you got sharp enough to suspect me. You are as bad as a baby that + doesn't know his mother in a new bonnet.” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite so bad as that, dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “for I didn't + see you at all, and indeed I don't see you yet, although I recognise your + voice. Do grow a little, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a hair's-breadth,” said the voice, and it was the smallest voice that + ever spoke. “What are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “I am come to see my aunt. But, please, North Wind, why didn't you come + back for me in the church that night?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. I carried you safe home. All the time you were dreaming about the + glass Apostles, you were lying in my arms.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad,” said Diamond. “I thought that must be it, only I wanted to + hear you say so. Did you sink the ship, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And drown everybody?” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite. One boat got away with six or seven men in it.” + </p> + <p> + “How could the boat swim when the ship couldn't?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I had some trouble with it. I had to contrive a bit, and manage + the waves a little. When they're once thoroughly waked up, I have a good + deal of trouble with them sometimes. They're apt to get stupid with + tumbling over each other's heads. That's when they're fairly at it. + However, the boat got to a desert island before noon next day.” + </p> + <p> + “And what good will come of that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I obeyed orders. Good bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! stay, North Wind, do stay!” cried Diamond, dismayed to see the + windmill get slower and slower. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, my dear child?” said North Wind, and the windmill began + turning again so swiftly that Diamond could scarcely see it. “What a big + voice you've got! and what a noise you do make with it? What is it you + want? I have little to do, but that little must be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to take me to the country at the back of the north wind.” + </p> + <p> + “That's not so easy,” said North Wind, and was silent for so long that + Diamond thought she was gone indeed. But after he had quite given her up, + the voice began again. + </p> + <p> + “I almost wish old Herodotus had held his tongue about it. Much he knew of + it!” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you wish that, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Because then that clergyman would never have heard of it, and set you + wanting to go. But we shall see. We shall see. You must go home now, my + dear, for you don't seem very well, and I'll see what can be done for you. + Don't wait for me. I've got to break a few of old Goody's toys; she's + thinking too much of her new stock. Two or three will do. There! go now.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond rose, quite sorry, and without a word left the shop, and went + home. + </p> + <p> + It soon appeared that his mother had been right about him, for that same + afternoon his head began to ache very much, and he had to go to bed. + </p> + <p> + He awoke in the middle of the night. The lattice window of his room had + blown open, and the curtains of his little bed were swinging about in the + wind. + </p> + <p> + “If that should be North Wind now!” thought Diamond. + </p> + <p> + But the next moment he heard some one closing the window, and his aunt + came to his bedside. She put her hand on his face, and said— + </p> + <p> + “How's your head, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Better, auntie, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like something to drink?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! I should, please.” + </p> + <p> + So his aunt gave him some lemonade, for she had been used to nursing sick + people, and Diamond felt very much refreshed, and laid his head down again + to go very fast asleep, as he thought. And so he did, but only to come + awake again, as a fresh burst of wind blew the lattice open a second time. + The same moment he found himself in a cloud of North Wind's hair, with her + beautiful face, set in it like a moon, bending over him. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Diamond!” she said. “I have found such a chance!” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm not well,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I know that, but you will be better for a little fresh air. You shall + have plenty of that.” + </p> + <p> + “You want me to go, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. It won't hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Diamond; and getting out of the bed-clothes, he jumped + into North Wind's arms. + </p> + <p> + “We must make haste before your aunt comes,” said she, as she glided out + of the open lattice and left it swinging. + </p> + <p> + The moment Diamond felt her arms fold around him he began to feel better. + It was a moonless night, and very dark, with glimpses of stars when the + clouds parted. + </p> + <p> + “I used to dash the waves about here,” said North Wind, “where cows and + sheep are feeding now; but we shall soon get to them. There they are.” + </p> + <p> + And Diamond, looking down, saw the white glimmer of breaking water far + below him. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Diamond,” said North Wind, “it is very difficult for me to get + you to the back of the north wind, for that country lies in the very north + itself, and of course I can't blow northwards.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You little silly!” said North Wind. “Don't you see that if I were to blow + northwards I should be South Wind, and that is as much as to say that one + person could be two persons?” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you ever get home at all, then?” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right—that is my home, though I never get farther + than the outer door. I sit on the doorstep, and hear the voices inside. I + am nobody there, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “That you should be nobody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mind it. Dear little man! you will be very glad some day to + be nobody yourself. But you can't understand that now, and you had better + not try; for if you do, you will be certain to go fancying some egregious + nonsense, and making yourself miserable about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I won't,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “There's a good boy. It will all come in good time.” + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't told me how you get to the doorstep, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “It is easy enough for me. I have only to consent to be nobody, and there + I am. I draw into myself and there I am on the doorstep. But you can + easily see, or you have less sense than I think, that to drag you, you + heavy thing, along with me, would take centuries, and I could not give the + time to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so sorry!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What for now, pet?” + </p> + <p> + “That I'm so heavy for you. I would be lighter if I could, but I don't + know how.” + </p> + <p> + “You silly darling! Why, I could toss you a hundred miles from me if I + liked. It is only when I am going home that I shall find you heavy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are going home with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Did I not come to fetch you just for that?” + </p> + <p> + “But all this time you must be going southwards.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Of course I am.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you be taking me northwards, then?” + </p> + <p> + “A very sensible question. But you shall see. I will get rid of a few of + these clouds—only they do come up so fast! It's like trying to blow + a brook dry. There! What do you see now?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I see a little boat, away there, down below.” + </p> + <p> + “A little boat, indeed! Well! She's a yacht of two hundred tons; and the + captain of it is a friend of mine; for he is a man of good sense, and can + sail his craft well. I've helped him many a time when he little thought + it. I've heard him grumbling at me, when I was doing the very best I could + for him. Why, I've carried him eighty miles a day, again and again, right + north.” + </p> + <p> + “He must have dodged for that,” said Diamond, who had been watching the + vessels, and had seen that they went other ways than the wind blew. + </p> + <p> + “Of course he must. But don't you see, it was the best I could do? I + couldn't be South Wind. And besides it gave him a share in the business. + It is not good at all—mind that, Diamond—to do everything for + those you love, and not give them a share in the doing. It's not kind. + It's making too much of yourself, my child. If I had been South Wind, he + would only have smoked his pipe all day, and made himself stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “But how could he be a man of sense and grumble at you when you were doing + your best for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you must make allowances,” said North Wind, “or you will never do + justice to anybody.—You do understand, then, that a captain may sail + north——” + </p> + <p> + “In spite of a north wind—yes,” supplemented Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I do think you must be stupid, my dear” said North Wind. “Suppose + the north wind did not blow where would he be then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why then the south wind would carry him.” + </p> + <p> + “So you think that when the north wind stops the south wind blows. + Nonsense. If I didn't blow, the captain couldn't sail his eighty miles a + day. No doubt South Wind would carry him faster, but South Wind is sitting + on her doorstep then, and if I stopped there would be a dead calm. So you + are all wrong to say he can sail north in spite of me; he sails north by + my help, and my help alone. You see that, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do, North Wind. I am stupid, but I don't want to be stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy! I am going to blow you north in that little craft, one of the + finest that ever sailed the sea. Here we are, right over it. I shall be + blowing against you; you will be sailing against me; and all will be just + as we want it. The captain won't get on so fast as he would like, but he + will get on, and so shall we. I'm just going to put you on board. Do you + see in front of the tiller—that thing the man is working, now to one + side, now to the other—a round thing like the top of a drum?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Below that is where they keep their spare sails, and some stores of that + sort. I am going to blow that cover off. The same moment I will drop you + on deck, and you must tumble in. Don't be afraid, it is of no depth, and + you will fall on sail-cloth. You will find it nice and warm and dry-only + dark; and you will know I am near you by every roll and pitch of the + vessel. Coil yourself up and go to sleep. The yacht shall be my cradle and + you shall be my baby.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, dear North Wind. I am not a bit afraid,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + In a moment they were on a level with the bulwarks, and North Wind sent + the hatch of the after-store rattling away over the deck to leeward. The + next, Diamond found himself in the dark, for he had tumbled through the + hole as North Wind had told him, and the cover was replaced over his head. + Away he went rolling to leeward, for the wind began all at once to blow + hard. He heard the call of the captain, and the loud trampling of the men + over his head, as they hauled at the main sheet to get the boom on board + that they might take in a reef in the mainsail. Diamond felt about until + he had found what seemed the most comfortable place, and there he snuggled + down and lay. + </p> + <p> + Hours after hours, a great many of them, went by; and still Diamond lay + there. He never felt in the least tired or impatient, for a strange + pleasure filled his heart. The straining of the masts, the creaking of the + boom, the singing of the ropes, the banging of the blocks as they put the + vessel about, all fell in with the roaring of the wind above, the surge of + the waves past her sides, and the thud with which every now and then one + would strike her; while through it all Diamond could hear the gurgling, + rippling, talking flow of the water against her planks, as she slipped + through it, lying now on this side, now on that—like a subdued air + running through the grand music his North Wind was making about him to + keep him from tiring as they sped on towards the country at the back of + her doorstep. + </p> + <p> + How long this lasted Diamond had no idea. He seemed to fall asleep + sometimes, only through the sleep he heard the sounds going on. At length + the weather seemed to get worse. The confusion and trampling of feet grew + more frequent over his head; the vessel lay over more and more on her + side, and went roaring through the waves, which banged and thumped at her + as if in anger. All at once arose a terrible uproar. The hatch was blown + off; a cold fierce wind swept in upon him; and a long arm came with it + which laid hold of him and lifted him out. The same moment he saw the + little vessel far below him righting herself. She had taken in all her + sails and lay now tossing on the waves like a sea-bird with folded wings. + A short distance to the south lay a much larger vessel, with two or three + sails set, and towards it North Wind was carrying Diamond. It was a German + ship, on its way to the North Pole. + </p> + <p> + “That vessel down there will give us a lift now,” said North Wind; “and + after that I must do the best I can.” + </p> + <p> + She managed to hide him amongst the flags of the big ship, which were all + snugly stowed away, and on and on they sped towards the north. At length + one night she whispered in his ear, “Come on deck, Diamond;” and he got up + at once and crept on deck. Everything looked very strange. Here and there + on all sides were huge masses of floating ice, looking like cathedrals, + and castles, and crags, while away beyond was a blue sea. + </p> + <p> + “Is the sun rising or setting?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Neither or both, which you please. I can hardly tell which myself. If he + is setting now, he will be rising the next moment.” + </p> + <p> + “What a strange light it is!” said Diamond. “I have heard that the sun + doesn't go to bed all the summer in these parts. Miss Coleman told me + that. I suppose he feels very sleepy, and that is why the light he sends + out looks so like a dream.” + </p> + <p> + “That will account for it well enough for all practical purposes,” said + North Wind. + </p> + <p> + Some of the icebergs were drifting northwards; one was passing very near + the ship. North Wind seized Diamond, and with a single bound lighted on + one of them—a huge thing, with sharp pinnacles and great clefts. The + same instant a wind began to blow from the south. North Wind hurried + Diamond down the north side of the iceberg, stepping by its jags and + splintering; for this berg had never got far enough south to be melted and + smoothed by the summer sun. She brought him to a cave near the water, + where she entered, and, letting Diamond go, sat down as if weary on a + ledge of ice. + </p> + <p> + Diamond seated himself on the other side, and for a while was enraptured + with the colour of the air inside the cave. It was a deep, dazzling, + lovely blue, deeper than the deepest blue of the sky. The blue seemed to + be in constant motion, like the blackness when you press your eyeballs + with your fingers, boiling and sparkling. But when he looked across to + North Wind he was frightened; her face was worn and livid. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you, dear North Wind?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing much. I feel very faint. But you mustn't mind it, for I can bear + it quite well. South Wind always blows me faint. If it were not for the + cool of the thick ice between me and her, I should faint altogether. + Indeed, as it is, I fear I must vanish.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond stared at her in terror, for he saw that her form and face were + growing, not small, but transparent, like something dissolving, not in + water, but in light. He could see the side of the blue cave through her + very heart. And she melted away till all that was left was a pale face, + like the moon in the morning, with two great lucid eyes in it. + </p> + <p> + “I am going, Diamond,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Does it hurt you?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “It's very uncomfortable,” she answered; “but I don't mind it, for I shall + come all right again before long. I thought I should be able to go with + you all the way, but I cannot. You must not be frightened though. Just go + straight on, and you will come all right. You'll find me on the doorstep.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, her face too faded quite away, only Diamond thought he could + still see her eyes shining through the blue. When he went closer, however, + he found that what he thought her eyes were only two hollows in the ice. + North Wind was quite gone; and Diamond would have cried, if he had not + trusted her so thoroughly. So he sat still in the blue air of the cavern + listening to the wash and ripple of the water all about the base of the + iceberg, as it sped on and on into the open sea northwards. It was an + excellent craft to go with the current, for there was twice as much of it + below water as above. But a light south wind was blowing too, and so it + went fast. + </p> + <p> + After a little while Diamond went out and sat on the edge of his floating + island, and looked down into the ocean beneath him. The white sides of the + berg reflected so much light below the water, that he could see far down + into the green abyss. Sometimes he fancied he saw the eyes of North Wind + looking up at him from below, but the fancy never lasted beyond the moment + of its birth. And the time passed he did not know how, for he felt as if + he were in a dream. When he got tired of the green water, he went into the + blue cave; and when he got tired of the blue cave he went out and gazed + all about him on the blue sea, ever sparkling in the sun, which kept + wheeling about the sky, never going below the horizon. But he chiefly + gazed northwards, to see whether any land were appearing. All this time he + never wanted to eat. He broke off little bits of the berg now and then and + sucked them, and he thought them very nice. + </p> + <p> + At length, one time he came out of his cave, he spied far off on the + horizon, a shining peak that rose into the sky like the top of some + tremendous iceberg; and his vessel was bearing him straight towards it. As + it went on the peak rose and rose higher and higher above the horizon; and + other peaks rose after it, with sharp edges and jagged ridges connecting + them. Diamond thought this must be the place he was going to; and he was + right; for the mountains rose and rose, till he saw the line of the coast + at their feet and at length the iceberg drove into a little bay, all + around which were lofty precipices with snow on their tops, and streaks of + ice down their sides. The berg floated slowly up to a projecting rock. + Diamond stepped on shore, and without looking behind him began to follow a + natural path which led windingly towards the top of the precipice. + </p> + <p> + When he reached it, he found himself on a broad table of ice, along which + he could walk without much difficulty. Before him, at a considerable + distance, rose a lofty ridge of ice, which shot up into fantastic + pinnacles and towers and battlements. The air was very cold, and seemed + somehow dead, for there was not the slightest breath of wind. + </p> + <p> + In the centre of the ridge before him appeared a gap like the opening of a + valley. But as he walked towards it, gazing, and wondering whether that + could be the way he had to take, he saw that what had appeared a gap was + the form of a woman seated against the ice front of the ridge, leaning + forwards with her hands in her lap, and her hair hanging down to the + ground. + </p> + <p> + “It is North Wind on her doorstep,” said Diamond joyfully, and hurried on. + </p> + <p> + He soon came up to the place, and there the form sat, like one of the + great figures at the door of an Egyptian temple, motionless, with drooping + arms and head. Then Diamond grew frightened, because she did not move nor + speak. He was sure it was North Wind, but he thought she must be dead at + last. Her face was white as the snow, her eyes were blue as the air in the + ice-cave, and her hair hung down straight, like icicles. She had on a + greenish robe, like the colour in the hollows of a glacier seen from far + off. + </p> + <p> + He stood up before her, and gazed fearfully into her face for a few + minutes before he ventured to speak. At length, with a great effort and a + trembling voice, he faltered out— + </p> + <p> + “North Wind!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, child?” said the form, without lifting its head. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill, dear North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “Till I'm wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't care for me any more,” said Diamond, almost crying now. + </p> + <p> + “Yes I do. Only I can't show it. All my love is down at the bottom of my + heart. But I feel it bubbling there.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want me to do next, dear North Wind?” said Diamond, wishing + to show his love by being obedient. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to do yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to go into the country at your back.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must go through me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean just what I say. You must walk on as if I were an open door, and + go right through me.” + </p> + <p> + “But that will hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least. It will hurt you, though.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind that, if you tell me to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do it,” said North Wind. + </p> + <p> + Diamond walked towards her instantly. When he reached her knees, he put + out his hand to lay it on her, but nothing was there save an intense cold. + He walked on. Then all grew white about him; and the cold stung him like + fire. He walked on still, groping through the whiteness. It thickened + about him. At last, it got into his heart, and he lost all sense. I would + say that he fainted—only whereas in common faints all grows black + about you, he felt swallowed up in whiteness. It was when he reached North + Wind's heart that he fainted and fell. But as he fell, he rolled over the + threshold, and it was thus that Diamond got to the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + </h2> + <p> + I HAVE now come to the most difficult part of my story. And why? Because I + do not know enough about it. And why should I not know as much about this + part as about any other part? For of course I could know nothing about the + story except Diamond had told it; and why should not Diamond tell about + the country at the back of the north wind, as well as about his adventures + in getting there? Because, when he came back, he had forgotten a great + deal, and what he did remember was very hard to tell. Things there are so + different from things here! The people there do not speak the same + language for one thing. Indeed, Diamond insisted that there they do not + speak at all. I do not think he was right, but it may well have appeared + so to Diamond. The fact is, we have different reports of the place from + the most trustworthy people. Therefore we are bound to believe that it + appears somewhat different to different people. All, however, agree in a + general way about it. + </p> + <p> + I will tell you something of what two very different people have reported, + both of whom knew more about it, I believe, than Herodotus. One of them + speaks from his own experience, for he visited the country; the other from + the testimony of a young peasant girl who came back from it for a month's + visit to her friends. The former was a great Italian of noble family, who + died more than five hundred years ago; the latter a Scotch shepherd who + died not forty years ago. + </p> + <p> + The Italian, then, informs us that he had to enter that country through a + fire so hot that he would have thrown himself into boiling glass to cool + himself. This was not Diamond's experience, but then Durante—that + was the name of the Italian, and it means Lasting, for his books will last + as long as there are enough men in the world worthy of having them—Durante + was an elderly man, and Diamond was a little boy, and so their experience + must be a little different. The peasant girl, on the other hand, fell fast + asleep in a wood, and woke in the same country. + </p> + <p> + In describing it, Durante says that the ground everywhere smelt sweetly, + and that a gentle, even-tempered wind, which never blew faster or slower, + breathed in his face as he went, making all the leaves point one way, not + so as to disturb the birds in the tops of the trees, but, on the contrary, + sounding a bass to their song. He describes also a little river which was + so full that its little waves, as it hurried along, bent the grass, full + of red and yellow flowers, through which it flowed. He says that the + purest stream in the world beside this one would look as if it were mixed + with something that did not belong to it, even although it was flowing + ever in the brown shadow of the trees, and neither sun nor moon could + shine upon it. He seems to imply that it is always the month of May in + that country. It would be out of place to describe here the wonderful + sights he saw, for the music of them is in another key from that of this + story, and I shall therefore only add from the account of this traveller, + that the people there are so free and so just and so healthy, that every + one of them has a crown like a king and a mitre like a priest. + </p> + <p> + The peasant girl—Kilmeny was her name—could not report such + grand things as Durante, for, as the shepherd says, telling her story as I + tell Diamond's— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Kilmeny had been she knew not where, + And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare; + Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, + Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew. + But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, + And the airs of heaven played round her tongue, + When she spoke of the lovely forms she had seen, + And a land where sin had never been; + A land of love and a land of light, + Withouten sun, or moon, or night; + Where the river swayed a living stream, + And the light a pure and cloudless beam: + The land of vision it would seem, + And still an everlasting dream.” + </pre> + <p> + The last two lines are the shepherd's own remark, and a matter of opinion. + But it is clear, I think, that Kilmeny must have described the same + country as Durante saw, though, not having his experience, she could + neither understand nor describe it so well. + </p> + <p> + Now I must give you such fragments of recollection as Diamond was able to + bring back with him. + </p> + <p> + When he came to himself after he fell, he found himself at the back of the + north wind. North Wind herself was nowhere to be seen. Neither was there a + vestige of snow or of ice within sight. The sun too had vanished; but that + was no matter, for there was plenty of a certain still rayless light. + Where it came from he never found out; but he thought it belonged to the + country itself. Sometimes he thought it came out of the flowers, which + were very bright, but had no strong colour. He said the river—for + all agree that there is a river there—flowed not only through, but + over grass: its channel, instead of being rock, stones, pebbles, sand, or + anything else, was of pure meadow grass, not over long. He insisted that + if it did not sing tunes in people's ears, it sung tunes in their heads, + in proof of which I may mention that, in the troubles which followed, + Diamond was often heard singing; and when asked what he was singing, would + answer, “One of the tunes the river at the back of the north wind sung.” + And I may as well say at once that Diamond never told these things to any + one but—no, I had better not say who it was; but whoever it was told + me, and I thought it would be well to write them for my child-readers. + </p> + <p> + He could not say he was very happy there, for he had neither his father + nor mother with him, but he felt so still and quiet and patient and + contented, that, as far as the mere feeling went, it was something better + than mere happiness. Nothing went wrong at the back of the north wind. + Neither was anything quite right, he thought. Only everything was going to + be right some day. His account disagreed with that of Durante, and agreed + with that of Kilmeny, in this, that he protested there was no wind there + at all. I fancy he missed it. At all events we could not do without wind. + It all depends on how big our lungs are whether the wind is too strong for + us or not. + </p> + <p> + When the person he told about it asked him whether he saw anybody he knew + there, he answered, “Only a little girl belonging to the gardener, who + thought he had lost her, but was quite mistaken, for there she was safe + enough, and was to come back some day, as I came back, if they would only + wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you talk to her, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Nobody talks there. They only look at each other, and understand + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it cold there?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it hot?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it then?” + </p> + <p> + “You never think about such things there.” + </p> + <p> + “What a queer place it must be!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a very good place.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to go back again?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I don't think I have left it; I feel it here, somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Did the people there look pleased?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—quite pleased, only a little sad.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they didn't look glad?” + </p> + <p> + “They looked as if they were waiting to be gladder some day.” + </p> + <p> + This was how Diamond used to answer questions about that country. And now + I will take up the story again, and tell you how he got back to this + country. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. HOW DIAMOND GOT HOME AGAIN + </h2> + <p> + WHEN one at the back of the north wind wanted to know how things were + going with any one he loved, he had to go to a certain tree, climb the + stem, and sit down in the branches. In a few minutes, if he kept very + still, he would see something at least of what was going on with the + people he loved. + </p> + <p> + One day when Diamond was sitting in this tree, he began to long very much + to get home again, and no wonder, for he saw his mother crying. Durante + says that the people there may always follow their wishes, because they + never wish but what is good. Diamond's wish was to get home, and he would + fain follow his wish. + </p> + <p> + But how was he to set about it? If he could only see North Wind! But the + moment he had got to her back, she was gone altogether from his sight. He + had never seen her back. She might be sitting on her doorstep still, + looking southwards, and waiting, white and thin and blue-eyed, until she + was wanted. Or she might have again become a mighty creature, with power + to do that which was demanded of her, and gone far away upon many + missions. She must be somewhere, however. He could not go home without + her, and therefore he must find her. She could never have intended to + leave him always away from his mother. If there had been any danger of + that, she would have told him, and given him his choice about going. For + North Wind was right honest. How to find North Wind, therefore, occupied + all his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + In his anxiety about his mother, he used to climb the tree every day, and + sit in its branches. However many of the dwellers there did so, they never + incommoded one another; for the moment one got into the tree, he became + invisible to every one else; and it was such a wide-spreading tree that + there was room for every one of the people of the country in it, without + the least interference with each other. Sometimes, on getting down, two of + them would meet at the root, and then they would smile to each other more + sweetly than at any other time, as much as to say, “Ah, you've been up + there too!” + </p> + <p> + One day he was sitting on one of the outer branches of the tree, looking + southwards after his home. Far away was a blue shining sea, dotted with + gleaming and sparkling specks of white. Those were the icebergs. Nearer he + saw a great range of snow-capped mountains, and down below him the lovely + meadow-grass of the country, with the stream flowing and flowing through + it, away towards the sea. As he looked he began to wonder, for the whole + country lay beneath him like a map, and that which was near him looked + just as small as that which he knew to be miles away. The ridge of ice + which encircled it appeared but a few yards off, and no larger than the + row of pebbles with which a child will mark out the boundaries of the + kingdom he has appropriated on the sea-shore. He thought he could + distinguish the vapoury form of North Wind, seated as he had left her, on + the other side. Hastily he descended the tree, and to his amazement found + that the map or model of the country still lay at his feet. He stood in + it. With one stride he had crossed the river; with another he had reached + the ridge of ice; with the third he stepped over its peaks, and sank + wearily down at North Wind's knees. For there she sat on her doorstep. The + peaks of the great ridge of ice were as lofty as ever behind her, and the + country at her back had vanished from Diamond's view. + </p> + <p> + North Wind was as still as Diamond had left her. Her pale face was white + as the snow, and her motionless eyes were as blue as the caverns in the + ice. But the instant Diamond touched her, her face began to change like + that of one waking from sleep. Light began to glimmer from the blue of her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + A moment more, and she laid her hand on Diamond's head, and began playing + with his hair. Diamond took hold of her hand, and laid his face to it. She + gave a little start. + </p> + <p> + “How very alive you are, child!” she murmured. “Come nearer to me.” + </p> + <p> + By the help of the stones all around he clambered up beside her, and laid + himself against her bosom. She gave a great sigh, slowly lifted her arms, + and slowly folded them about him, until she clasped him close. Yet a + moment, and she roused herself, and came quite awake; and the cold of her + bosom, which had pierced Diamond's bones, vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been sitting here ever since I went through you, dear North + Wind?” asked Diamond, stroking her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, looking at him with her old kindness. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you very tired?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I've often had to sit longer. Do you know how long you have been?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! years and years,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You have just been seven days,” returned North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had been a hundred years!” exclaimed Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I daresay,” replied North Wind. “You've been away from here seven + days; but how long you may have been in there is quite another thing. + Behind my back and before my face things are so different! They don't go + at all by the same rule.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very glad,” said Diamond, after thinking a while. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Because I've been such a long time there, and such a little while away + from mother. Why, she won't be expecting me home from Sandwich yet!” + </p> + <p> + “No. But we mustn't talk any longer. I've got my orders now, and we must + be off in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Next moment Diamond found himself sitting alone on the rock. North Wind + had vanished. A creature like a great humble-bee or cockchafer flew past + his face; but it could be neither, for there were no insects amongst the + ice. It passed him again and again, flying in circles around him, and he + concluded that it must be North Wind herself, no bigger than Tom Thumb + when his mother put him in the nutshell lined with flannel. But she was no + longer vapoury and thin. She was solid, although tiny. A moment more, and + she perched on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Diamond,” she said in his ear, in the smallest and highest of + treble voices; “it is time we were setting out for Sandwich.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond could just see her, by turning his head towards his shoulder as + far as he could, but only with one eye, for his nose came between her and + the other. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you take me in your arms and carry me?” he said in a whisper, for + he knew she did not like a loud voice when she was small. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you ungrateful boy,” returned North Wind, smiling “how dare you make + game of me? Yes, I will carry you, but you shall walk a bit for your + impertinence first. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + She jumped from his shoulder, but when Diamond looked for her upon the + ground, he could see nothing but a little spider with long legs that made + its way over the ice towards the south. It ran very fast indeed for a + spider, but Diamond ran a long way before it, and then waited for it. It + was up with him sooner than he had expected, however, and it had grown a + good deal. And the spider grew and grew and went faster and faster, till + all at once Diamond discovered that it was not a spider, but a weasel; and + away glided the weasel, and away went Diamond after it, and it took all + the run there was in him to keep up with the weasel. And the weasel grew, + and grew, and grew, till all at once Diamond saw that the weasel was not a + weasel but a cat. And away went the cat, and Diamond after it. And when he + had run half a mile, he found the cat waiting for him, sitting up and + washing her face not to lose time. And away went the cat again, and + Diamond after it. But the next time he came up with the cat, the cat was + not a cat, but a hunting-leopard. And the hunting-leopard grew to a + jaguar, all covered with spots like eyes. And the jaguar grew to a Bengal + tiger. And at none of them was Diamond afraid, for he had been at North + Wind's back, and he could be afraid of her no longer whatever she did or + grew. And the tiger flew over the snow in a straight line for the south, + growing less and less to Diamond's eyes till it was only a black speck + upon the whiteness; and then it vanished altogether. And now Diamond felt + that he would rather not run any farther, and that the ice had got very + rough. Besides, he was near the precipices that bounded the sea, so he + slackened his pace to a walk, saying aloud to himself: + </p> + <p> + “When North Wind has punished me enough for making game of her, she will + come back to me; I know she will, for I can't go much farther without + her.” + </p> + <p> + “You dear boy! It was only in fun. Here I am!” said North Wind's voice + behind him. + </p> + <p> + Diamond turned, and saw her as he liked best to see her, standing beside + him, a tall lady. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the tiger?” he asked, for he knew all the creatures from a + picture book that Miss Coleman had given him. “But, of course,” he added, + “you were the tiger. I was puzzled and forgot. I saw it such a long way + off before me, and there you were behind me. It's so odd, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “It must look very odd to you, Diamond: I see that. But it is no more odd + to me than to break an old pine in two.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's odd enough,” remarked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “So it is! I forgot. Well, none of these things are odder to me than it is + to you to eat bread and butter.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's odd too, when I think of it,” persisted Diamond. “I should + just like a slice of bread and butter! I'm afraid to say how long it is—how + long it seems to me, that is—since I had anything to eat.” + </p> + <p> + “Come then,” said North Wind, stooping and holding out her arms. “You + shall have some bread and butter very soon. I am glad to find you want + some.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond held up his arms to meet hers, and was safe upon her bosom. North + Wind bounded into the air. Her tresses began to lift and rise and spread + and stream and flow and flutter; and with a roar from her hair and an + answering roar from one of the great glaciers beside them, whose slow + torrent tumbled two or three icebergs at once into the waves at their + feet, North Wind and Diamond went flying southwards. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. WHO MET DIAMOND AT SANDWICH + </h2> + <p> + As THEY flew, so fast they went that the sea slid away from under them + like a great web of shot silk, blue shot with grey, and green shot with + purple. They went so fast that the stars themselves appeared to sail away + past them overhead, “like golden boats,” on a blue sea turned upside down. + And they went so fast that Diamond himself went the other way as fast—I + mean he went fast asleep in North Wind's arms. + </p> + <p> + When he woke, a face was bending over him; but it was not North Wind's; it + was his mother's. He put out his arms to her, and she clasped him to her + bosom and burst out crying. Diamond kissed her again and again to make her + stop. Perhaps kissing is the best thing for crying, but it will not always + stop it. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, mother?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Diamond, my darling! you have been so ill!” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + “No, mother dear. I've only been at the back of the north wind,” returned + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were dead,” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + But that moment the doctor came in. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! there!” said the doctor with gentle cheerfulness; “we're better + to-day, I see.” + </p> + <p> + Then he drew the mother aside, and told her not to talk to Diamond, or to + mind what he might say; for he must be kept as quiet as possible. And + indeed Diamond was not much inclined to talk, for he felt very strange and + weak, which was little wonder, seeing that all the time he had been away + he had only sucked a few lumps of ice, and there could not be much + nourishment in them. + </p> + <p> + Now while he is lying there, getting strong again with chicken broth and + other nice things, I will tell my readers what had been taking place at + his home, for they ought to be told it. + </p> + <p> + They may have forgotten that Miss Coleman was in a very poor state of + health. Now there were three reasons for this. In the first place, her + lungs were not strong. In the second place, there was a gentleman + somewhere who had not behaved very well to her. In the third place, she + had not anything particular to do. These three nots together are enough to + make a lady very ill indeed. Of course she could not help the first cause; + but if the other two causes had not existed, that would have been of + little consequence; she would only have to be a little careful. The second + she could not help quite; but if she had had anything to do, and had done + it well, it would have been very difficult for any man to behave badly to + her. And for this third cause of her illness, if she had had anything to + do that was worth doing, she might have borne his bad behaviour so that + even that would not have made her ill. It is not always easy, I confess, + to find something to do that is worth doing, but the most difficult things + are constantly being done, and she might have found something if she had + tried. Her fault lay in this, that she had not tried. But, to be sure, her + father and mother were to blame that they had never set her going. Only + then again, nobody had told her father and mother that they ought to set + her going in that direction. So as none of them would find it out of + themselves, North Wind had to teach them. + </p> + <p> + We know that North Wind was very busy that night on which she left Diamond + in the cathedral. She had in a sense been blowing through and through the + Colemans' house the whole of the night. First, Miss Coleman's maid had + left a chink of her mistress's window open, thinking she had shut it, and + North Wind had wound a few of her hairs round the lady's throat. She was + considerably worse the next morning. Again, the ship which North Wind had + sunk that very night belonged to Mr. Coleman. Nor will my readers + understand what a heavy loss this was to him until I have informed them + that he had been getting poorer and poorer for some time. He was not so + successful in his speculations as he had been, for he speculated a great + deal more than was right, and it was time he should be pulled up. It is a + hard thing for a rich man to grow poor; but it is an awful thing for him + to grow dishonest, and some kinds of speculation lead a man deep into + dishonesty before he thinks what he is about. Poverty will not make a man + worthless—he may be worth a great deal more when he is poor than he + was when he was rich; but dishonesty goes very far indeed to make a man of + no value—a thing to be thrown out in the dust-hole of the creation, + like a bit of a broken basin, or a dirty rag. So North Wind had to look + after Mr. Coleman, and try to make an honest man of him. So she sank the + ship which was his last venture, and he was what himself and his wife and + the world called ruined. + </p> + <p> + Nor was this all yet. For on board that vessel Miss Coleman's lover was a + passenger; and when the news came that the vessel had gone down, and that + all on board had perished, we may be sure she did not think the loss of + their fine house and garden and furniture the greatest misfortune in the + world. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the trouble did not end with Mr. Coleman and his family. Nobody + can suffer alone. When the cause of suffering is most deeply hidden in the + heart, and nobody knows anything about it but the man himself, he must be + a great and a good man indeed, such as few of us have known, if the pain + inside him does not make him behave so as to cause all about him to be + more or less uncomfortable. But when a man brings money-troubles on + himself by making haste to be rich, then most of the people he has to do + with must suffer in the same way with himself. The elm-tree which North + Wind blew down that very night, as if small and great trials were to be + gathered in one heap, crushed Miss Coleman's pretty summer-house: just so + the fall of Mr. Coleman crushed the little family that lived over his + coach-house and stable. Before Diamond was well enough to be taken home, + there was no home for him to go to. Mr. Coleman—or his creditors, + for I do not know the particulars—had sold house, carriage, horses, + furniture, and everything. He and his wife and daughter and Mrs. Crump had + gone to live in a small house in Hoxton, where he would be unknown, and + whence he could walk to his place of business in the City. For he was not + an old man, and hoped yet to retrieve his fortunes. Let us hope that he + lived to retrieve his honesty, the tail of which had slipped through his + fingers to the very last joint, if not beyond it. + </p> + <p> + Of course, Diamond's father had nothing to do for a time, but it was not + so hard for him to have nothing to do as it was for Miss Coleman. He wrote + to his wife that, if her sister would keep her there till he got a place, + it would be better for them, and he would be greatly obliged to her. + Meantime, the gentleman who had bought the house had allowed his furniture + to remain where it was for a little while. + </p> + <p> + Diamond's aunt was quite willing to keep them as long as she could. And + indeed Diamond was not yet well enough to be moved with safety. + </p> + <p> + When he had recovered so far as to be able to go out, one day his mother + got her sister's husband, who had a little pony-cart, to carry them down + to the sea-shore, and leave them there for a few hours. He had some + business to do further on at Ramsgate, and would pick them up as he + returned. A whiff of the sea-air would do them both good, she said, and + she thought besides she could best tell Diamond what had happened if she + had him quite to herself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE SEASIDE + </h2> + <p> + DIAMOND and his mother sat down upon the edge of the rough grass that + bordered the sand. The sun was just far enough past its highest not to + shine in their eyes when they looked eastward. A sweet little wind blew on + their left side, and comforted the mother without letting her know what it + was that comforted her. Away before them stretched the sparkling waters of + the ocean, every wave of which flashed out its own delight back in the + face of the great sun, which looked down from the stillness of its blue + house with glorious silent face upon its flashing children. On each hand + the shore rounded outwards, forming a little bay. There were no white + cliffs here, as further north and south, and the place was rather dreary, + but the sky got at them so much the better. Not a house, not a creature + was within sight. Dry sand was about their feet, and under them thin wiry + grass, that just managed to grow out of the poverty-stricken shore. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear!” said Diamond's mother, with a deep sigh, “it's a sad world!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” said Diamond. “I didn't know.” + </p> + <p> + “How should you know, child? You've been too well taken care of, I trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I have,” returned Diamond. “I'm sorry! I thought you were taken + care of too. I thought my father took care of you. I will ask him about + it. I think he must have forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear boy!” said his mother, “your father's the best man in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “So I thought!” returned Diamond with triumph. “I was sure of it!—Well, + doesn't he take very good care of you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, he does,” answered his mother, bursting into tears. “But who's + to take care of him? And how is he to take care of us if he's got nothing + to eat himself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear!” said Diamond with a gasp; “hasn't he got anything to eat? Oh! I + must go home to him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, child. He's not come to that yet. But what's to become of us, I + don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you very hungry, mother? There's the basket. I thought you put + something to eat in it.” + </p> + <p> + “O you darling stupid! I didn't say I was hungry,” returned his mother, + smiling through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Then I don't understand you at all,” said Diamond. “Do tell me what's the + matter.” + </p> + <p> + “There are people in the world who have nothing to eat, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose they don't stop in it any longer. They—they—what + you call—die—don't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they do. How would you like that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I never tried. But I suppose they go where they get + something to eat.” + </p> + <p> + “Like enough they don't want it,” said his mother, petulantly. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right then,” said Diamond, thinking I daresay more than he + chose to put in words. + </p> + <p> + “Is it though? Poor boy! how little you know about things! Mr. Coleman's + lost all his money, and your father has nothing to do, and we shall have + nothing to eat by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure that we shall have nothing to eat.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank Heaven! I'm not sure of it. I hope not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can't understand it, mother. There's a piece of gingerbread in the + basket, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “O you little bird! You have no more sense than a sparrow that picks what + it wants, and never thinks of the winter and the frost and, the snow.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—yes—I see. But the birds get through the winter, don't + they?” + </p> + <p> + “Some of them fall dead on the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “They must die some time. They wouldn't like to be birds always. Would + you, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “What a child it is!” thought his mother, but she said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! now I remember,” Diamond went on. “Father told me that day I went to + Epping Forest with him, that the rose-bushes, and the may-bushes, and the + holly-bushes were the bird's barns, for there were the hips, and the haws, + and the holly-berries, all ready for the winter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that's all very true. So you see the birds are provided for. But + there are no such barns for you and me, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't there?” + </p> + <p> + “No. We've got to work for our bread.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let's go and work,” said Diamond, getting up. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use. We've not got anything to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let's wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we shall starve.” + </p> + <p> + “No. There's the basket. Do you know, mother, I think I shall call that + basket the barn.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not a very big one. And when it's empty—where are we then?” + </p> + <p> + “At auntie's cupboard,” returned Diamond promptly. + </p> + <p> + “But we can't eat auntie's things all up and leave her to starve.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. We'll go back to father before that. He'll have found a cupboard + somewhere by that time.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know it. But I haven't got even a cupboard, and I've always had + plenty to eat. I've heard you say I had too much, sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you that's because I've had a cupboard for you, child.” + </p> + <p> + “And when yours was empty, auntie opened hers.” + </p> + <p> + “But that can't go on.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know? I think there must be a big cupboard somewhere, out of + which the little cupboards are filled, you know, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wish I could find the door of that cupboard,” said his mother. + But the same moment she stopped, and was silent for a good while. I cannot + tell whether Diamond knew what she was thinking, but I think I know. She + had heard something at church the day before, which came back upon her—something + like this, that she hadn't to eat for tomorrow as well as for to-day; and + that what was not wanted couldn't be missed. So, instead of saying + anything more, she stretched out her hand for the basket, and she and + Diamond had their dinner. + </p> + <p> + And Diamond did enjoy it. For the drive and the fresh air had made him + quite hungry; and he did not, like his mother, trouble himself about what + they should dine off that day week. The fact was he had lived so long + without any food at all at the back of the north wind, that he knew quite + well that food was not essential to existence; that in fact, under certain + circumstances, people could live without it well enough. + </p> + <p> + His mother did not speak much during their dinner. After it was over she + helped him to walk about a little, but he was not able for much and soon + got tired. He did not get fretful, though. He was too glad of having the + sun and the wind again, to fret because he could not run about. He lay + down on the dry sand, and his mother covered him with a shawl. She then + sat by his side, and took a bit of work from her pocket. But Diamond felt + rather sleepy, and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the sand. A + few yards off he saw something fluttering. + </p> + <p> + “What is that, mother?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Only a bit of paper,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “It flutters more than a bit of paper would, I think,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go and see if you like,” said his mother. “My eyes are none of the + best.” + </p> + <p> + So she rose and went and found that they were both right, for it was a + little book, partly buried in the sand. But several of its leaves were + clear of the sand, and these the wind kept blowing about in a very + flutterful manner. She took it up and brought it to Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, mother?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Some nursery rhymes, I think,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “I'm too sleepy,” said Diamond. “Do read some of them to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will,” she said, and began one.—“But this is such nonsense!” + she said again. “I will try to find a better one.” + </p> + <p> + She turned the leaves searching, but three times, with sudden puffs, the + wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses. + </p> + <p> + “Do read that one,” said Diamond, who seemed to be of the same mind as the + wind. “It sounded very nice. I am sure it is a good one.” + </p> + <p> + So his mother thought it might amuse him, though she couldn't find any + sense in it. She never thought he might understand it, although she could + not. + </p> + <p> + Now I do not exactly know what the mother read, but this is what Diamond + heard, or thought afterwards that he had heard. He was, however, as I have + said, very sleepy. And when he thought he understood the verses he may + have been only dreaming better ones. This is how they went— + </p> + <p> + I know a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the + shallows dumb in the hollows sleeping so deep and all the swallows that + dip their feathers in the hollows or in the shallows are the merriest + swallows of all for the nests they bake with the clay they cake with the + water they shake from their wings that rake the water out of the shallows + or the hollows will hold together in any weather and so the swallows are + the merriest fellows and have the merriest children and are built so + narrow like the head of an arrow to cut the air and go just where the + nicest water is flowing and the nicest dust is blowing for each so narrow + like head of an arrow is only a barrow to carry the mud he makes from the + nicest water flowing and the nicest dust that is blowing to build his nest + for her he loves best with the nicest cakes which the sunshine bakes all + for their merry children all so callow with beaks that follow gaping and + hollow wider and wider after their father or after their mother the + food-provider who brings them a spider or a worm the poor hider down in + the earth so there's no dearth for their beaks as yellow as the buttercups + growing beside the flowing of the singing river always and ever growing + and blowing for fast as the sheep awake or asleep crop them and crop them + they cannot stop them but up they creep and on they go blowing and so with + the daisies the little white praises they grow and they blow and they + spread out their crown and they praise the sun and when he goes down their + praising is done and they fold up their crown and they sleep every one + till over the plain he's shining amain and they're at it again praising + and praising such low songs raising that no one hears them but the sun who + rears them and the sheep that bite them are the quietest sheep awake or + asleep with the merriest bleat and the little lambs are the merriest lambs + they forget to eat for the frolic in their feet and the lambs and their + dams are the whitest sheep with the woolliest wool and the longest wool + and the trailingest tails and they shine like snow in the grasses that + grow by the singing river that sings for ever and the sheep and the lambs + are merry for ever because the river sings and they drink it and the lambs + and their dams are quiet and white because of their diet for what they + bite is buttercups yellow and daisies white and grass as green as the + river can make it with wind as mellow to kiss it and shake it as never was + seen but here in the hollows beside the river where all the swallows are + merriest of fellows for the nests they make with the clay they cake in the + sunshine bake till they are like bone as dry in the wind as a marble stone + so firm they bind the grass in the clay that dries in the wind the + sweetest wind that blows by the river flowing for ever but never you find + whence comes the wind that blows on the hollows and over the shallows + where dip the swallows alive it blows the life as it goes awake or asleep + into the river that sings as it flows and the life it blows into the sheep + awake or asleep with the woolliest wool and the trailingest tails and it + never fails gentle and cool to wave the wool and to toss the grass as the + lambs and the sheep over it pass and tug and bite with their teeth so + white and then with the sweep of their trailing tails smooth it again and + it grows amain and amain it grows and the wind as it blows tosses the + swallows over the hollows and down on the shallows till every feather doth + shake and quiver and all their feathers go all together blowing the life + and the joy so rife into the swallows that skim the shallows and have the + yellowest children for the wind that blows is the life of the river + flowing for ever that washes the grasses still as it passes and feeds the + daisies the little white praises and buttercups bonny so golden and sunny + with butter and honey that whiten the sheep awake or asleep that nibble + and bite and grow whiter than white and merry and quiet on the sweet diet + fed by the river and tossed for ever by the wind that tosses the swallow + that crosses over the shallows dipping his wings to gather the water and + bake the cake that the wind shall make as hard as a bone as dry as a stone + it's all in the wind that blows from behind and all in the river that + flows for ever and all in the grasses and the white daisies and the merry + sheep awake or asleep and the happy swallows skimming the shallows and + it's all in the wind that blows from behind. + </p> + <p> + Here Diamond became aware that his mother had stopped reading. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you go on, mother dear?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's such nonsense!” said his mother. “I believe it would go on for + ever.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what it did,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What did?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the river. That's almost the very tune it used to sing.” + </p> + <p> + His mother was frightened, for she thought the fever was coming on again. + So she did not contradict him. + </p> + <p> + “Who made that poem?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” she answered. “Some silly woman for her children, I + suppose—and then thought it good enough to print.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have been at the back of the north wind some time or other, + anyhow,” said Diamond. “She couldn't have got a hold of it anywhere else. + That's just how it went.” And he began to chant bits of it here and there; + but his mother said nothing for fear of making him, worse; and she was + very glad indeed when she saw her brother-in-law jogging along in his + little cart. They lifted Diamond in, and got up themselves, and away they + went, “home again, home again, home again,” as Diamond sang. But he soon + grew quiet, and before they reached Sandwich he was fast asleep and + dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. OLD DIAMOND + </h2> + <p> + AFTER this Diamond recovered so fast, that in a few days he was quite able + to go home as soon as his father had a place for them to go. Now his + father having saved a little money, and finding that no situation offered + itself, had been thinking over a new plan. A strange occurrence it was + which turned his thoughts in that direction. He had a friend in the + Bloomsbury region, who lived by letting out cabs and horses to the cabmen. + This man, happening to meet him one day as he was returning from an + unsuccessful application, said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you set up for yourself now—in the cab line, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't enough for that,” answered Diamond's father. + </p> + <p> + “You must have saved a goodish bit, I should think. Just come home with me + now and look at a horse I can let you have cheap. I bought him only a few + weeks ago, thinking he'd do for a Hansom, but I was wrong. He's got bone + enough for a waggon, but a waggon ain't a Hansom. He ain't got go enough + for a Hansom. You see parties as takes Hansoms wants to go like the wind, + and he ain't got wind enough, for he ain't so young as he once was. But + for a four-wheeler as takes families and their luggages, he's the very + horse. He'd carry a small house any day. I bought him cheap, and I'll sell + him cheap.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't want him,” said Diamond's father. “A body must have time to + think over an affair of so much importance. And there's the cab too. That + would come to a deal of money.” + </p> + <p> + “I could fit you there, I daresay,” said his friend. “But come and look at + the animal, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Since I lost my own old pair, as was Mr. Coleman's,” said Diamond's + father, turning to accompany the cab-master, “I ain't almost got the heart + to look a horse in the face. It's a thousand pities to part man and + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is,” returned his friend sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + But what was the ex-coachman's delight, when, on going into the stable + where his friend led him, he found the horse he wanted him to buy was no + other than his own old Diamond, grown very thin and bony and long-legged, + as if they, had been doing what they could to fit him for Hansom work! + </p> + <p> + “He ain't a Hansom horse,” said Diamond's father indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're right. He ain't handsome, but he's a good un” said his + owner. + </p> + <p> + “Who says he ain't handsome? He's one of the handsomest horses a + gentleman's coachman ever druv,” said Diamond's father; remarking to + himself under his breath—“though I says it as shouldn't”—for + he did not feel inclined all at once to confess that his own old horse + could have sunk so low. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said his friend, “all I say is—There's a animal for you, as + strong as a church; an'll go like a train, leastways a parly,” he added, + correcting himself. + </p> + <p> + But the coachman had a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. For the + old horse, hearing his voice, had turned his long neck, and when his old + friend went up to him and laid his hand on his side, he whinnied for joy, + and laid his big head on his master's breast. This settled the matter. The + coachman's arms were round the horse's neck in a moment, and he fairly + broke down and cried. The cab-master had never been so fond of a horse + himself as to hug him like that, but he saw in a moment how it was. And he + must have been a good-hearted fellow, for I never heard of such an idea + coming into the head of any other man with a horse to sell: instead of + putting something on to the price because he was now pretty sure of + selling him, he actually took a pound off what he had meant to ask for + him, saying to himself it was a shame to part old friends. + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father, as soon as he came to himself, turned and asked how much + he wanted for the horse. + </p> + <p> + “I see you're old friends,” said the owner. + </p> + <p> + “It's my own old Diamond. I liked him far the best of the pair, though the + other was good. You ain't got him too, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No; nothing in the stable to match him there.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you,” said the coachman. “But you'll be wanting a long price + for him, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not so much. I bought him cheap, and as I say, he ain't for my work.” + </p> + <p> + The end of it was that Diamond's father bought old Diamond again, along + with a four-wheeled cab. And as there were some rooms to be had over the + stable, he took them, wrote to his wife to come home, and set up as a + cabman. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE MEWS + </h2> + <p> + IT WAS late in the afternoon when Diamond and his mother and the baby + reached London. I was so full of Diamond that I forgot to tell you a baby + had arrived in the meantime. His father was waiting for them with his own + cab, but they had not told Diamond who the horse was; for his father + wanted to enjoy the pleasure of his surprise when he found it out. He got + in with his mother without looking at the horse, and his father having put + up Diamond's carpet-bag and his mother's little trunk, got upon the box + himself and drove off; and Diamond was quite proud of riding home in his + father's own carriage. But when he got to the mews, he could not help + being a little dismayed at first; and if he had never been to the back of + the north wind, I am afraid he would have cried a little. But instead of + that, he said to himself it was a fine thing all the old furniture was + there. And instead of helping his mother to be miserable at the change, he + began to find out all the advantages of the place; for every place has + some advantages, and they are always better worth knowing than the + disadvantages. Certainly the weather was depressing, for a thick, dull, + persistent rain was falling by the time they reached home. But happily the + weather is very changeable; and besides, there was a good fire burning in + the room, which their neighbour with the drunken husband had attended to + for them; and the tea-things were put out, and the kettle was boiling on + the fire. And with a good fire, and tea and bread and butter, things + cannot be said to be miserable. + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father and mother were, notwithstanding, rather miserable, and + Diamond began to feel a kind of darkness beginning to spread over his own + mind. But the same moment he said to himself, “This will never do. I can't + give in to this. I've been to the back of the north wind. Things go right + there, and so I must try to get things to go right here. I've got to fight + the miserable things. They shan't make me miserable if I can help it.” I + do not mean that he thought these very words. They are perhaps too + grown-up for him to have thought, but they represent the kind of thing + that was in his heart and his head. And when heart and head go together, + nothing can stand before them. + </p> + <p> + “What nice bread and butter this is!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you like it, my dear” said his father. “I bought the butter + myself at the little shop round the corner.” + </p> + <p> + “It's very nice, thank you, father. Oh, there's baby waking! I'll take + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit still, Diamond,” said his mother. “Go on with your bread and butter. + You're not strong enough to lift him yet.” + </p> + <p> + So she took the baby herself, and set him on her knee. Then Diamond began + to amuse him, and went on till the little fellow was shrieking with + laughter. For the baby's world was his mother's arms; and the drizzling + rain, and the dreary mews, and even his father's troubled face could not + touch him. What cared baby for the loss of a hundred situations? Yet + neither father nor mother thought him hard-hearted because he crowed and + laughed in the middle of their troubles. On the contrary, his crowing and + laughing were infectious. His little heart was so full of merriment that + it could not hold it all, and it ran over into theirs. Father and mother + began to laugh too, and Diamond laughed till he had a fit of coughing + which frightened his mother, and made them all stop. His father took the + baby, and his mother put him to bed. + </p> + <p> + But it was indeed a change to them all, not only from Sandwich, but from + their old place, instead of the great river where the huge barges with + their mighty brown and yellow sails went tacking from side to side like + little pleasure-skiffs, and where the long thin boats shot past with eight + and sometimes twelve rowers, their windows now looked out upon a dirty + paved yard. And there was no garden more for Diamond to run into when he + pleased, with gay flowers about his feet, and solemn sun-filled trees over + his head. Neither was there a wooden wall at the back of his bed with a + hole in it for North Wind to come in at when she liked. Indeed, there was + such a high wall, and there were so many houses about the mews, that North + Wind seldom got into the place at all, except when something must be done, + and she had a grand cleaning out like other housewives; while the + partition at the head of Diamond's new bed only divided it from the room + occupied by a cabman who drank too much beer, and came home chiefly to + quarrel with his wife and pinch his children. It was dreadful to Diamond + to hear the scolding and the crying. But it could not make him miserable, + because he had been at the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + If my reader find it hard to believe that Diamond should be so good, he + must remember that he had been to the back of the north wind. If he never + knew a boy so good, did he ever know a boy that had been to the back of + the north wind? It was not in the least strange of Diamond to behave as he + did; on the contrary, it was thoroughly sensible of him. + </p> + <p> + We shall see how he got on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. DIAMOND MAKES A BEGINNING + </h2> + <p> + THE wind blew loud, but Diamond slept a deep sleep, and never heard it. My + own impression is that every time when Diamond slept well and remembered + nothing about it in the morning, he had been all that night at the back of + the north wind. I am almost sure that was how he woke so refreshed, and + felt so quiet and hopeful all the day. Indeed he said this much, though + not to me—that always when he woke from such a sleep there was a + something in his mind, he could not tell what—could not tell whether + it was the last far-off sounds of the river dying away in the distance, or + some of the words of the endless song his mother had read to him on the + sea-shore. Sometimes he thought it must have been the twittering of the + swallows—over the shallows, you, know; but it may have been the + chirping of the dingy sparrows picking up their breakfast in the yard—how + can I tell? I don't know what I know, I only know what I think; and to + tell the truth, I am more for the swallows than the sparrows. When he knew + he was coming awake, he would sometimes try hard to keep hold of the words + of what seemed a new song, one he had not heard before—a song in + which the words and the music somehow appeared to be all one; but even + when he thought he had got them well fixed in his mind, ever as he came + awaker—as he would say—one line faded away out of it, and then + another, and then another, till at last there was nothing left but some + lovely picture of water or grass or daisies, or something else very + common, but with all the commonness polished off it, and the lovely soul + of it, which people so seldom see, and, alas! yet seldomer believe in, + shining out. But after that he would sing the oddest, loveliest little + songs to the baby—of his own making, his mother said; but Diamond + said he did not make them; they were made somewhere inside him, and he + knew nothing about them till they were coming out. + </p> + <p> + When he woke that first morning he got up at once, saying to himself, + “I've been ill long enough, and have given a great deal of trouble; I must + try and be of use now, and help my mother.” When he went into her room he + found her lighting the fire, and his father just getting out of bed. They + had only the one room, besides the little one, not much more than a + closet, in which Diamond slept. He began at once to set things to rights, + but the baby waking up, he took him, and nursed him till his mother had + got the breakfast ready. She was looking gloomy, and his father was + silent; and indeed except Diamond had done all he possibly could to keep + out the misery that was trying to get in at doors and windows, he too + would have grown miserable, and then they would have been all miserable + together. But to try to make others comfortable is the only way to get + right comfortable ourselves, and that comes partly of not being able to + think so much about ourselves when we are helping other people. For our + Selves will always do pretty well if we don't pay them too much attention. + Our Selves are like some little children who will be happy enough so long + as they are left to their own games, but when we begin to interfere with + them, and make them presents of too nice playthings, or too many sweet + things, they begin at once to fret and spoil. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Diamond, child!” said his mother at last, “you're as good to your + mother as if you were a girl—nursing the baby, and toasting the + bread, and sweeping up the hearth! I declare a body would think you had + been among the fairies.” + </p> + <p> + Could Diamond have had greater praise or greater pleasure? You see when he + forgot his Self his mother took care of his Self, and loved and praised + his Self. Our own praises poison our Selves, and puff and swell them up, + till they lose all shape and beauty, and become like great toadstools. But + the praises of father or mother do our Selves good, and comfort them and + make them beautiful. They never do them any harm. If they do any harm, it + comes of our mixing some of our own praises with them, and that turns them + nasty and slimy and poisonous. + </p> + <p> + When his father had finished his breakfast, which he did rather in a + hurry, he got up and went down into the yard to get out his horse and put + him to the cab. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come and see the cab, Diamond?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, please, father—if mother can spare me a minute,” answered + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Bless the child! I don't want him,” said his mother cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + But as he was following his father out of the door, she called him back. + </p> + <p> + “Diamond, just hold the baby one minute. I have something to say to your + father.” + </p> + <p> + So Diamond sat down again, took the baby in his lap, and began poking his + face into its little body, laughing and singing all the while, so that the + baby crowed like a little bantam. And what he sang was something like this—such + nonsense to those that couldn't understand it! but not to the baby, who + got all the good in the world out of it:— baby's a-sleeping wake up + baby for all the swallows are the merriest fellows and have the yellowest + children who would go sleeping and snore like a gaby disturbing his mother + and father and brother and all a-boring their ears with his snoring + snoring snoring for himself and no other for himself in particular wake up + baby sit up perpendicular hark to the gushing hark to the rushing where + the sheep are the woolliest and the lambs the unruliest and their tails + the whitest and their eyes the brightest and baby's the bonniest and + baby's the funniest and baby's the shiniest and baby's the tiniest and + baby's the merriest and baby's the worriest of all the lambs that plague + their dams and mother's the whitest of all the dams that feed the lambs + that go crop-cropping without stop-stopping and father's the best of all + the swallows that build their nest out of the shining shallows and he has + the merriest children that's baby and Diamond and Diamond and baby and + baby and Diamond and Diamond and baby— + </p> + <p> + Here Diamond's knees went off in a wild dance which tossed the baby about + and shook the laughter out of him in immoderate peals. His mother had been + listening at the door to the last few lines of his song, and came in with + the tears in her eyes. She took the baby from him, gave him a kiss, and + told him to run to his father. + </p> + <p> + By the time Diamond got into the yard, the horse was between the shafts, + and his father was looping the traces on. Diamond went round to look at + the horse. The sight of him made him feel very queer. He did not know much + about different horses, and all other horses than their own were very much + the same to him. But he could not make it out. This was Diamond and it + wasn't Diamond. Diamond didn't hang his head like that; yet the head that + was hanging was very like the one that Diamond used to hold so high. + Diamond's bones didn't show through his skin like that; but the skin they + pushed out of shape so was very like Diamond's skin; and the bones might + be Diamond's bones, for he had never seen the shape of them. But when he + came round in front of the old horse, and he put out his long neck, and + began sniffing at him and rubbing his upper lip and his nose on him, then + Diamond saw it could be no other than old Diamond, and he did just as his + father had done before—put his arms round his neck and cried—but + not much. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't it jolly, father?” he said. “Was there ever anybody so lucky as me? + Dear old Diamond!” + </p> + <p> + And he hugged the horse again, and kissed both his big hairy cheeks. He + could only manage one at a time, however—the other cheek was so far + off on the other side of his big head. + </p> + <p> + His father mounted the box with just the same air, as Diamond thought, + with which he had used to get upon the coach-box, and Diamond said to + himself, “Father's as grand as ever anyhow.” He had kept his brown + livery-coat, only his wife had taken the silver buttons off and put brass + ones instead, because they did not think it polite to Mr. Coleman in his + fallen fortunes to let his crest be seen upon the box of a cab. Old + Diamond had kept just his collar; and that had the silver crest upon it + still, for his master thought nobody would notice that, and so let it + remain for a memorial of the better days of which it reminded him—not + unpleasantly, seeing it had been by no fault either of his or of the old + horse's that they had come down in the world together. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, father, do let me drive a bit,” said Diamond, jumping up on the box + beside him. + </p> + <p> + His father changed places with him at once, putting the reins into his + hands. Diamond gathered them up eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't pull at his mouth,” said his father, “just feel, at it gently to + let him know you're there and attending to him. That's what I call talking + to him through the reins.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father, I understand,” said Diamond. Then to the horse he said, “Go + on Diamond.” And old Diamond's ponderous bulk began at once to move to the + voice of the little boy. + </p> + <p> + But before they had reached the entrance of the mews, another voice called + after young Diamond, which, in his turn, he had to obey, for it was that + of his mother. “Diamond! Diamond!” it cried; and Diamond pulled the reins, + and the horse stood still as a stone. + </p> + <p> + “Husband,” said his mother, coming up, “you're never going to trust him + with the reins—a baby like that?” + </p> + <p> + “He must learn some day, and he can't begin too soon. I see already he's a + born coachman,” said his father proudly. “And I don't see well how he + could escape it, for my father and my grandfather, that's his + great-grandfather, was all coachmen, I'm told; so it must come natural to + him, any one would think. Besides, you see, old Diamond's as proud of him + as we are our own selves, wife. Don't you see how he's turning round his + ears, with the mouths of them open, for the first word he speaks to tumble + in? He's too well bred to turn his head, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but, husband, I can't do without him to-day. Everything's got to be + done, you know. It's my first day here. And there's that baby!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, wife! I never meant to take him away—only to the bottom + of Endell Street. He can watch his way back.” + </p> + <p> + “No thank you, father; not to-day,” said Diamond. “Mother wants me. + Perhaps she'll let me go another day.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my man,” said his father, and took the reins which Diamond was + holding out to him. + </p> + <p> + Diamond got down, a little disappointed of course, and went with his + mother, who was too pleased to speak. She only took hold of his hand as + tight as if she had been afraid of his running away instead of glad that + he would not leave her. + </p> + <p> + Now, although they did not know it, the owner of the stables, the same man + who had sold the horse to his father, had been standing just inside one of + the stable-doors, with his hands in his pockets, and had heard and seen + all that passed; and from that day John Stonecrop took a great fancy to + the little boy. And this was the beginning of what came of it. + </p> + <p> + The same evening, just as Diamond was feeling tired of the day's work, and + wishing his father would come home, Mr. Stonecrop knocked at the door. His + mother went and opened it. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, ma'am,” said he. “Is the little master in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to be sure he is—at your service, I'm sure, Mr. Stonecrop,” + said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, ma'am; it's I'm at his service. I'm just a-going out with my own + cab, and if he likes to come with me, he shall drive my old horse till + he's tired.” + </p> + <p> + “It's getting rather late for him,” said his mother thoughtfully. “You see + he's been an invalid.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond thought, what a funny thing! How could he have been an invalid + when he did not even know what the word meant? But, of course, his mother + was right. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” said Mr. Stonecrop, “I can just let him drive through + Bloomsbury Square, and then he shall run home again.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir. And I'm much obliged to you,” said his mother. And + Diamond, dancing with delight, got his cap, put his hand in Mr. + Stonecrop's, and went with him to the yard where the cab was waiting. He + did not think the horse looked nearly so nice as Diamond, nor Mr. + Stonecrop nearly so grand as his father; but he was none, the less + pleased. He got up on the box, and his new friend got up beside him. + </p> + <p> + “What's the horse's name?” whispered Diamond, as he took the reins from + the man. + </p> + <p> + “It's not a nice name,” said Mr. Stonecrop. “You needn't call him by it. I + didn't give it him. He'll go well enough without it. Give the boy a whip, + Jack. I never carries one when I drive old——” + </p> + <p> + He didn't finish the sentence. Jack handed Diamond a whip, with which, by + holding it half down the stick, he managed just to flack the haunches of + the horse; and away he went. + </p> + <p> + “Mind the gate,” said Mr. Stonecrop; and Diamond did mind the gate, and + guided the nameless horse through it in safety, pulling him this way and + that according as was necessary. Diamond learned to drive all the sooner + that he had been accustomed to do what he was told, and could obey the + smallest hint in a moment. Nothing helps one to get on like that. Some + people don't know how to do what they are told; they have not been used to + it, and they neither understand quickly nor are able to turn what they do + understand into action quickly. With an obedient mind one learns the + rights of things fast enough; for it is the law of the universe, and to + obey is to understand. + </p> + <p> + “Look out!” cried Mr. Stonecrop, as they were turning the corner into + Bloomsbury Square. + </p> + <p> + It was getting dusky now. A cab was approaching rather rapidly from the + opposite direction, and Diamond pulling aside, and the other driver + pulling up, they only just escaped a collision. Then they knew each other. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Diamond, it's a bad beginning to run into your own father,” cried + the driver. + </p> + <p> + “But, father, wouldn't it have been a bad ending to run into your own + son?” said Diamond in return; and the two men laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + “This is very kind of you, I'm sure, Stonecrop,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. He's a brave fellow, and'll be fit to drive on his own hook in + a week or two. But I think you'd better let him drive you home now, for + his mother don't like his having over much of the night air, and I + promised not to take him farther than the square.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along then, Diamond,” said his father, as he brought his cab up to + the other, and moved off the box to the seat beside it. Diamond jumped + across, caught at the reins, said “Good-night, and thank you, Mr. + Stonecrop,” and drove away home, feeling more of a man than he had ever + yet had a chance of feeling in all his life. Nor did his father find it + necessary to give him a single hint as to his driving. Only I suspect the + fact that it was old Diamond, and old Diamond on his way to his stable, + may have had something to do with young Diamond's success. + </p> + <p> + “Well, child,” said his mother, when he entered the room, “you've not been + long gone.” + </p> + <p> + “No, mother; here I am. Give me the baby.” + </p> + <p> + “The baby's asleep,” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Then give him to me, and I'll lay him down.” + </p> + <p> + But as Diamond took him, he woke up and began to laugh. For he was indeed + one of the merriest children. And no wonder, for he was as plump as a + plum-pudding, and had never had an ache or a pain that lasted more than + five minutes at a time. Diamond sat down with him and began to sing to + him. + </p> + <p> + baby baby babbing your father's gone a-cabbing to catch a shilling for its + pence to make the baby babbing dance for old Diamond's a duck they say he + can swim but the duck of diamonds is baby that's him and of all the + swallows the merriest fellows that bake their cake with the water they + shake out of the river flowing for ever and make dust into clay on the + shiniest day to build their nest father's the best and mother's the + whitest and her eyes are the brightest of all the dams that watch their + lambs cropping the grass where the waters pass singing for ever and of all + the lambs with the shakingest tails and the jumpingest feet baby's the + funniest baby's the bonniest and he never wails and he's always sweet and + Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his nurse + </p> + <p> + When Diamond's rhymes grew scarce, he always began dancing the baby. Some + people wondered that such a child could rhyme as he did, but his rhymes + were not very good, for he was only trying to remember what he had heard + the river sing at the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. DIAMOND GOES ON + </h2> + <p> + DIAMOND became a great favourite with all the men about the mews. Some may + think it was not the best place in the world for him to be brought up in; + but it must have been, for there he was. At first, he heard a good many + rough and bad words; but he did not like them, and so they did him little + harm. He did not know in the least what they meant, but there was + something in the very sound of them, and in the tone of voice in which + they were said, which Diamond felt to be ugly. So they did not even stick + to him, not to say get inside him. He never took any notice of them, and + his face shone pure and good in the middle of them, like a primrose in a + hailstorm. At first, because his face was so quiet and sweet, with a smile + always either awake or asleep in his eyes, and because he never heeded + their ugly words and rough jokes, they said he wasn't all there, meaning + that he was half an idiot, whereas he was a great deal more there than + they had the sense to see. And before long the bad words found themselves + ashamed to come out of the men's mouths when Diamond was near. The one + would nudge the other to remind him that the boy was within hearing, and + the words choked themselves before they got any farther. When they talked + to him nicely he had always a good answer, sometimes a smart one, ready, + and that helped much to make them change their minds about him. + </p> + <p> + One day Jack gave him a curry-comb and a brush to try his hand upon old + Diamond's coat. He used them so deftly, so gently, and yet so thoroughly, + as far as he could reach, that the man could not help admiring him. + </p> + <p> + “You must make haste and, grow” he said. “It won't do to have a horse's + belly clean and his back dirty, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me a leg,” said Diamond, and in a moment he was on the old horse's + back with the comb and brush. He sat on his withers, and reaching forward + as he ate his hay, he curried and he brushed, first at one side of his + neck, and then at the other. When that was done he asked for a + dressing-comb, and combed his mane thoroughly. Then he pushed himself on + to his back, and did his shoulders as far down as he could reach. Then he + sat on his croup, and did his back and sides; then he turned around like a + monkey, and attacked his hind-quarters, and combed his tail. This last was + not so easy to manage, for he had to lift it up, and every now and then + old Diamond would whisk it out of his hands, and once he sent the comb + flying out of the stable door, to the great amusement of the men. But Jack + fetched it again, and Diamond began once more, and did not leave off until + he had done the whole business fairly well, if not in a first-rate, + experienced fashion. All the time the old horse went on eating his hay, + and, but with an occasional whisk of his tail when Diamond tickled or + scratched him, took no notice of the proceeding. But that was all a + pretence, for he knew very well who it was that was perched on his back, + and rubbing away at him with the comb and the brush. So he was quite + pleased and proud, and perhaps said to himself something like this— + </p> + <p> + “I'm a stupid old horse, who can't brush his own coat; but there's my + young godson on my back, cleaning me like an angel.” + </p> + <p> + I won't vouch for what the old horse was thinking, for it is very + difficult to find out what any old horse is thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear!” said Diamond when he had done, “I'm so tired!” + </p> + <p> + And he laid himself down at full length on old Diamond's back. + </p> + <p> + By this time all the men in the stable were gathered about the two + Diamonds, and all much amused. One of them lifted him down, and from that + time he was a greater favourite than before. And if ever there was a boy + who had a chance of being a prodigy at cab-driving, Diamond was that boy, + for the strife came to be who should have him out with him on the box. + </p> + <p> + His mother, however, was a little shy of the company for him, and besides + she could not always spare him. Also his father liked to have him himself + when he could; so that he was more desired than enjoyed among the cabmen. + </p> + <p> + But one way and another he did learn to drive all sorts of horses, and to + drive them well, and that through the most crowded streets in London City. + Of course there was the man always on the box-seat beside him, but before + long there was seldom the least occasion to take the reins from out of his + hands. For one thing he never got frightened, and consequently was never + in too great a hurry. Yet when the moment came for doing something sharp, + he was always ready for it. I must once more remind my readers that he had + been to the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + One day, which was neither washing-day, nor cleaning-day nor + marketing-day, nor Saturday, nor Monday—upon which consequently + Diamond could be spared from the baby—his father took him on his own + cab. After a stray job or two by the way, they drew up in the row upon the + stand between Cockspur Street and Pall Mall. They waited a long time, but + nobody seemed to want to be carried anywhere. By and by ladies would be + going home from the Academy exhibition, and then there would be a chance + of a job. + </p> + <p> + “Though, to be sure,” said Diamond's father—with what truth I cannot + say, but he believed what he said—“some ladies is very hard, and + keeps you to the bare sixpence a mile, when every one knows that ain't + enough to keep a family and a cab upon. To be sure it's the law; but + mayhap they may get more law than they like some day themselves.” + </p> + <p> + As it was very hot, Diamond's father got down to have a glass of beer + himself, and give another to the old waterman. He left Diamond on the box. + </p> + <p> + A sudden noise got up, and Diamond looked round to see what was the + matter. + </p> + <p> + There was a crossing near the cab-stand, where a girl was sweeping. Some + rough young imps had picked a quarrel with her, and were now hauling at + her broom to get it away from her. But as they did not pull all together, + she was holding it against them, scolding and entreating alternately. + </p> + <p> + Diamond was off his box in a moment, and running to the help of the girl. + He got hold of the broom at her end and pulled along with her. But the + boys proceeded to rougher measures, and one of them hit Diamond on the + nose, and made it bleed; and as he could not let go the broom to mind his + nose, he was soon a dreadful figure. But presently his father came back, + and missing Diamond, looked about. He had to look twice, however, before + he could be sure that that was his boy in the middle of the tumult. He + rushed in, and sent the assailants flying in all directions. The girl + thanked Diamond, and began sweeping as if nothing had happened, while his + father led him away. With the help of old Tom, the waterman, he was soon + washed into decency, and his father set him on the box again, perfectly + satisfied with the account he gave of the cause of his being in a fray. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't let them behave so to a poor girl—could I, father?” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, Diamond,” said his father, quite pleased, for Diamond's + father was a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + A moment after, up came the girl, running, with her broom over her + shoulder, and calling, “Cab, there! cab!” + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father turned instantly, for he was the foremost in the rank, + and followed the girl. One or two other passing cabs heard the cry, and + made for the place, but the girl had taken care not to call till she was + near enough to give her friends the first chance. When they reached the + curbstone—who should it be waiting for the cab but Mrs. and Miss + Coleman! They did not look at the cabman, however. The girl opened the + door for them; they gave her the address, and a penny; she told the + cabman, and away they drove. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the house, Diamond's father got down and rang the bell. + As he opened the door of the cab, he touched his hat as he had been wont + to do. The ladies both stared for a moment, and then exclaimed together: + </p> + <p> + “Why, Joseph! can it be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am; yes, miss,” answered he, again touching his hat, with all the + respect he could possibly put into the action. “It's a lucky day which I + see you once more upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Who would have thought it?” said Mrs. Coleman. “It's changed times for + both of us, Joseph, and it's not very often we can have a cab even; but + you see my daughter is still very poorly, and she can't bear the motion of + the omnibuses. Indeed we meant to walk a bit first before we took a cab, + but just at the corner, for as hot as the sun was, a cold wind came down + the street, and I saw that Miss Coleman must not face it. But to think we + should have fallen upon you, of all the cabmen in London! I didn't know + you had got a cab.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, ma'am, I had a chance of buying the old horse, and I + couldn't resist him. There he is, looking at you, ma'am. Nobody knows the + sense in that head of his.” + </p> + <p> + The two ladies went near to pat the horse, and then they noticed Diamond + on the box. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you've got both Diamonds with you,” said Miss Coleman. “How do you + do, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + Diamond lifted his cap, and answered politely. + </p> + <p> + “He'll be fit to drive himself before long,” said his father, proudly. + “The old horse is a-teaching of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he must come and see us, now you've found us out. Where do you + live?” + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father gave the ladies a ticket with his name and address + printed on it; and then Mrs. Coleman took out her purse, saying: + </p> + <p> + “And what's your fare, Joseph?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, ma'am,” said Joseph. “It was your own old horse as took + you; and me you paid long ago.” + </p> + <p> + He jumped on his box before she could say another word, and with a parting + salute drove off, leaving them on the pavement, with the maid holding the + door for them. + </p> + <p> + It was a long time now since Diamond had seen North Wind, or even thought + much about her. And as his father drove along, he was thinking not about + her, but about the crossing-sweeper, and was wondering what made him feel + as if he knew her quite well, when he could not remember anything of her. + But a picture arose in his mind of a little girl running before the wind + and dragging her broom after her; and from that, by degrees, he recalled + the whole adventure of the night when he got down from North Wind's back + in a London street. But he could not quite satisfy himself whether the + whole affair was not a dream which he had dreamed when he was a very + little boy. Only he had been to the back of the north wind since—there + could be no doubt of that; for when he woke every morning, he always knew + that he had been there again. And as he thought and thought, he recalled + another thing that had happened that morning, which, although it seemed a + mere accident, might have something to do with what had happened since. + His father had intended going on the stand at King's Cross that morning, + and had turned into Gray's Inn Lane to drive there, when they found the + way blocked up, and upon inquiry were informed that a stack of chimneys + had been blown down in the night, and had fallen across the road. They + were just clearing the rubbish away. Diamond's father turned, and made for + Charing Cross. + </p> + <p> + That night the father and mother had a great deal to talk about. + </p> + <p> + “Poor things!” said the mother. “it's worse for them than it is for us. + You see they've been used to such grand things, and for them to come down + to a little poky house like that—it breaks my heart to think of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know” said Diamond thoughtfully, “whether Mrs. Coleman had bells + on her toes.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, child?” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “She had rings on her fingers, anyhow,” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Of course she had, as any lady would. What has that to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “When we were down at Sandwich,” said Diamond, “you said you would have to + part with your mother's ring, now we were poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless the child; he forgets nothing,” said his mother. “Really, Diamond, + a body would need to mind what they say to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” said Diamond. “I only think about it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just why,” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Why is that why?” persisted Diamond, for he had not yet learned that + grown-up people are not often so much grown up that they never talk like + children—and spoilt ones too. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Coleman is none so poor as all that yet. No, thank Heaven! she's not + come to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a great disgrace to be poor?” asked Diamond, because of the tone in + which his mother had spoken. + </p> + <p> + But his mother, whether conscience-stricken I do not know hurried him away + to bed, where after various attempts to understand her, resumed and + resumed again in spite of invading sleep, he was conquered at last, and + gave in, murmuring over and over to himself, “Why is why?” but getting no + answer to the question. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. THE DRUNKEN CABMAN + </h2> + <p> + A FEW nights after this, Diamond woke up suddenly, believing he heard + North Wind thundering along. But it was something quite different. South + Wind was moaning round the chimneys, to be sure, for she was not very + happy that night, but it was not her voice that had wakened Diamond. Her + voice would only have lulled him the deeper asleep. It was a loud, angry + voice, now growling like that of a beast, now raving like that of a + madman; and when Diamond came a little wider awake, he knew that it was + the voice of the drunken cabman, the wall of whose room was at the head of + his bed. It was anything but pleasant to hear, but he could not help + hearing it. At length there came a cry from the woman, and then a scream + from the baby. Thereupon Diamond thought it time that somebody did + something, and as himself was the only somebody at hand, he must go and + see whether he could not do something. So he got up and put on part of his + clothes, and went down the stair, for the cabman's room did not open upon + their stair, and he had to go out into the yard, and in at the next door. + This, fortunately, the cabman, being drunk, had left open. By the time he + reached their stair, all was still except the voice of the crying baby, + which guided him to the right door. He opened it softly, and peeped in. + There, leaning back in a chair, with his arms hanging down by his sides, + and his legs stretched out before him and supported on his heels, sat the + drunken cabman. His wife lay in her clothes upon the bed, sobbing, and the + baby was wailing in the cradle. It was very miserable altogether. + </p> + <p> + Now the way most people do when they see anything very miserable is to + turn away from the sight, and try to forget it. But Diamond began as usual + to try to destroy the misery. The little boy was just as much one of God's + messengers as if he had been an angel with a flaming sword, going out to + fight the devil. The devil he had to fight just then was Misery. And the + way he fought him was the very best. Like a wise soldier, he attacked him + first in his weakest point—that was the baby; for Misery can never + get such a hold of a baby as of a grown person. Diamond was knowing in + babies, and he knew he could do something to make the baby, happy; for + although he had only known one baby as yet, and although not one baby is + the same as another, yet they are so very much alike in some things, and + he knew that one baby so thoroughly, that he had good reason to believe he + could do something for any other. I have known people who would have begun + to fight the devil in a very different and a very stupid way. They would + have begun by scolding the idiotic cabman; and next they would make his + wife angry by saying it must be her fault as well as his, and by leaving + ill-bred though well-meant shabby little books for them to read, which + they were sure to hate the sight of; while all the time they would not + have put out a finger to touch the wailing baby. But Diamond had him out + of the cradle in a moment, set him up on his knee, and told him to look at + the light. Now all the light there was came only from a lamp in the yard, + and it was a very dingy and yellow light, for the glass of the lamp was + dirty, and the gas was bad; but the light that came from it was, + notwithstanding, as certainly light as if it had come from the sun itself, + and the baby knew that, and smiled to it; and although it was indeed a + wretched room which that lamp lighted—so dreary, and dirty, and + empty, and hopeless!—there in the middle of it sat Diamond on a + stool, smiling to the baby, and the baby on his knees smiling to the lamp. + The father of him sat staring at nothing, neither asleep nor awake, not + quite lost in stupidity either, for through it all he was dimly angry with + himself, he did not know why. It was that he had struck his wife. He had + forgotten it, but was miserable about it, notwithstanding. And this misery + was the voice of the great Love that had made him and his wife and the + baby and Diamond, speaking in his heart, and telling him to be good. For + that great Love speaks in the most wretched and dirty hearts; only the + tone of its voice depends on the echoes of the place in which it sounds. + On Mount Sinai, it was thunder; in the cabman's heart it was misery; in + the soul of St. John it was perfect blessedness. + </p> + <p> + By and by he became aware that there was a voice of singing in the room. + This, of course, was the voice of Diamond singing to the baby—song + after song, every one as foolish as another to the cabman, for he was too + tipsy to part one word from another: all the words mixed up in his ear in + a gurgle without division or stop; for such was the way he spoke himself, + when he was in this horrid condition. But the baby was more than content + with Diamond's songs, and Diamond himself was so contented with what the + songs were all about, that he did not care a bit about the songs + themselves, if only baby liked them. But they did the cabman good as well + as the baby and Diamond, for they put him to sleep, and the sleep was busy + all the time it lasted, smoothing the wrinkles out of his temper. + </p> + <p> + At length Diamond grew tired of singing, and began to talk to the baby + instead. And as soon as he stopped singing, the cabman began to wake up. + His brain was a little clearer now, his temper a little smoother, and his + heart not quite so dirty. He began to listen and he went on listening, and + heard Diamond saying to the baby something like this, for he thought the + cabman was asleep: + </p> + <p> + “Poor daddy! Baby's daddy takes too much beer and gin, and that makes him + somebody else, and not his own self at all. Baby's daddy would never hit + baby's mammy if he didn't take too much beer. He's very fond of baby's + mammy, and works from morning to night to get her breakfast and dinner and + supper, only at night he forgets, and pays the money away for beer. And + they put nasty stuff in beer, I've heard my daddy say, that drives all the + good out, and lets all the bad in. Daddy says when a man takes a drink, + there's a thirsty devil creeps into his inside, because he knows he will + always get enough there. And the devil is always crying out for more + drink, and that makes the man thirsty, and so he drinks more and more, + till he kills himself with it. And then the ugly devil creeps out of him, + and crawls about on his belly, looking for some other cabman to get into, + that he may drink, drink, drink. That's what my daddy says, baby. And he + says, too, the only way to make the devil come out is to give him plenty + of cold water and tea and coffee, and nothing at all that comes from the + public-house; for the devil can't abide that kind of stuff, and creeps out + pretty soon, for fear of being drowned in it. But your daddy will drink + the nasty stuff, poor man! I wish he wouldn't, for it makes mammy cross + with him, and no wonder! and then when mammy's cross, he's crosser, and + there's nobody in the house to take care of them but baby; and you do take + care of them, baby—don't you, baby? I know you do. Babies always + take care of their fathers and mothers—don't they, baby? That's what + they come for—isn't it, baby? And when daddy stops drinking beer and + nasty gin with turpentine in it, father says, then mammy will be so happy, + and look so pretty! and daddy will be so good to baby! and baby will be as + happy as a swallow, which is the merriest fellow! And Diamond will be so + happy too! And when Diamond's a man, he'll take baby out with him on the + box, and teach him to drive a cab.” + </p> + <p> + He went on with chatter like this till baby was asleep, by which time he + was tired, and father and mother were both wide awake—only rather + confused—the one from the beer, the other from the blow—and + staring, the one from his chair, the other from her bed, at Diamond. But + he was quite unaware of their notice, for he sat half-asleep, with his + eyes wide open, staring in his turn, though without knowing it, at the + cabman, while the cabman could not withdraw his gaze from Diamond's white + face and big eyes. For Diamond's face was always rather pale, and now it + was paler than usual with sleeplessness, and the light of the street-lamp + upon it. At length he found himself nodding, and he knew then it was time + to put the baby down, lest he should let him fall. So he rose from the + little three-legged stool, and laid the baby in the cradle, and covered + him up—it was well it was a warm night, and he did not want much + covering—and then he all but staggered out of the door, he was so + tipsy himself with sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Wife,” said the cabman, turning towards the bed, “I do somehow believe + that wur a angel just gone. Did you see him, wife? He warn't wery big, and + he hadn't got none o' them wingses, you know. It wur one o' them + baby-angels you sees on the gravestones, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, hubby!” said his wife; “but it's just as good. I might say + better, for you can ketch hold of him when you like. That's little Diamond + as everybody knows, and a duck o' diamonds he is! No woman could wish for + a better child than he be.” + </p> + <p> + “I ha' heerd on him in the stable, but I never see the brat afore. Come, + old girl, let bygones be bygones, and gie us a kiss, and we'll go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + The cabman kept his cab in another yard, although he had his room in this. + He was often late in coming home, and was not one to take notice of + children, especially when he was tipsy, which was oftener than not. Hence, + if he had ever seen Diamond, he did not know him. But his wife knew him + well enough, as did every one else who lived all day in the yard. She was + a good-natured woman. It was she who had got the fire lighted and the tea + ready for them when Diamond and his mother came home from Sandwich. And + her husband was not an ill-natured man either, and when in the morning he + recalled not only Diamond's visit, but how he himself had behaved to his + wife, he was very vexed with himself, and gladdened his poor wife's heart + by telling her how sorry he was. And for a whole week after, he did not go + near the public-house, hard as it was to avoid it, seeing a certain rich + brewer had built one, like a trap to catch souls and bodies in, at almost + every corner he had to pass on his way home. Indeed, he was never quite so + bad after that, though it was some time before he began really to reform. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. DIAMOND'S FRIENDS + </h2> + <p> + ONE day when old Diamond was standing with his nose in his bag between + Pall Mall and Cockspur Street, and his master was reading the newspaper on + the box of his cab, which was the last of a good many in the row, little + Diamond got down for a run, for his legs were getting cramped with + sitting. And first of all he strolled with his hands in his pockets up to + the crossing, where the girl and her broom were to be found in all + weathers. Just as he was going to speak to her, a tall gentleman stepped + upon the crossing. He was pleased to find it so clean, for the streets + were muddy, and he had nice boots on; so he put his hand in his pocket, + and gave the girl a penny. But when she gave him a sweet smile in return, + and made him a pretty courtesy, he looked at her again, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live, my child?” + </p> + <p> + “Paradise Row,” she answered; “next door to the Adam and Eve—down + the area.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom do you live with?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “My wicked old grannie,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “You shouldn't call your grannie wicked,” said the gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “But she is,” said the girl, looking up confidently in his face. “If you + don't believe me, you can come and take a look at her.” + </p> + <p> + The words sounded rude, but the girl's face looked so simple that the + gentleman saw she did not mean to be rude, and became still more + interested in her. + </p> + <p> + “Still you shouldn't say so,” he insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't I? Everybody calls her wicked old grannie—even them + that's as wicked as her. You should hear her swear. There's nothing like + it in the Row. Indeed, I assure you, sir, there's ne'er a one of them can + shut my grannie up once she begins and gets right a-going. You must put + her in a passion first, you know. It's no good till you do that—she's + so old now. How she do make them laugh, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + Although she called her wicked, the child spoke so as plainly to indicate + pride in her grannie's pre-eminence in swearing. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman looked very grave to hear her, for he was sorry that such a + nice little girl should be in such bad keeping. But he did not know what + to say next, and stood for a moment with his eyes on the ground. When he + lifted them, he saw the face of Diamond looking up in his. + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir,” said Diamond, “her grannie's very cruel to her sometimes, + and shuts her out in the streets at night, if she happens to be late.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this your brother?” asked the gentleman of the girl. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How does he know your grandmother, then? He does not look like one of her + sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, sir! He's a good boy—quite.” + </p> + <p> + Here she tapped her forehead with her finger in a significant manner. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” asked the gentleman, while Diamond looked on + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “The cabbies call him God's baby,” she whispered. “He's not right in the + head, you know. A tile loose.” + </p> + <p> + Still Diamond, though he heard every word, and understood it too, kept on + smiling. What could it matter what people called him, so long as he did + nothing he ought not to do? And, besides, God's baby was surely the best + of names! + </p> + <p> + “Well, my little man, and what can you do?” asked the gentleman, turning + towards him—just for the sake of saying something. + </p> + <p> + “Drive a cab,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Good; and what else?” he continued; for, accepting what the girl had + said, he regarded the still sweetness of Diamond's face as a sign of + silliness, and wished to be kind to the poor little fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Nurse a baby,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well—and what else?” + </p> + <p> + “Clean father's boots, and make him a bit of toast for his tea.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a useful little man,” said the gentleman. “What else can you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much that I know of,” said Diamond. “I can't curry a horse, except + somebody puts me on his back. So I don't count that.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you read?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But mother can and father can, and they're going to teach me some day + soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, here's a penny for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And when you have learned to read, come to me, and I'll give you sixpence + and a book with fine pictures in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, where am I to come?” asked Diamond, who was too much a man + of the world not to know that he must have the gentleman's address before + he could go and see him. + </p> + <p> + “You're no such silly!” thought he, as he put his hand in his pocket, and + brought out a card. “There,” he said, “your father will be able to read + that, and tell you where to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and put the card in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman walked away, but turning round a few paces off, saw Diamond + give his penny to the girl, and, walking slower heard him say: + </p> + <p> + “I've got a father, and mother, and little brother, and you've got nothing + but a wicked old grannie. You may have my penny.” + </p> + <p> + The girl put it beside the other in her pocket, the only trustworthy + article of dress she wore. Her grandmother always took care that she had a + stout pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Is she as cruel as ever?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Much the same. But I gets more coppers now than I used to, and I can get + summats to eat, and take browns enough home besides to keep her from + grumbling. It's a good thing she's so blind, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “'Cause if she was as sharp in the eyes as she used to be, she would find + out I never eats her broken wittles, and then she'd know as I must get + something somewheres.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't she watch you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “O' course she do. Don't she just! But I make believe and drop it in my + lap, and then hitch it into my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “What would she do if she found you out?” + </p> + <p> + “She never give me no more.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't want it!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do want it.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you do with it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to cripple Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's cripple Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “A boy in the Row. His mother broke his leg when he wur a kid, so he's + never come to much; but he's a good boy, is Jim, and I love Jim dearly. I + always keeps off a penny for Jim—leastways as often as I can.—But + there I must sweep again, for them busses makes no end o' dirt.” + </p> + <p> + “Diamond! Diamond!” cried his father, who was afraid he might get no good + by talking to the girl; and Diamond obeyed, and got up again upon the box. + He told his father about the gentleman, and what he had promised him if he + would learn to read, and showed him the gentleman's card. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's not many doors from the Mews!” said his father, giving him back + the card. “Take care of it, my boy, for it may lead to something. God + knows, in these hard times a man wants as many friends as he's ever likely + to get.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you got friends enough, father?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have no right to complain; but the more the better, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Just let me count,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + And he took his hands from his pockets, and spreading out the fingers of + his left hand, began to count, beginning at the thumb. + </p> + <p> + “There's mother, first, and then baby, and then me. Next there's old + Diamond—and the cab—no, I won't count the cab, for it never + looks at you, and when Diamond's out of the shafts, it's nobody. Then + there's the man that drinks next door, and his wife, and his baby.” + </p> + <p> + “They're no friends of mine,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Well, they're friends of mine,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + His father laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Much good they'll do you!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know they won't?” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go on,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Then there's Jack and Mr. Stonecrop, and, deary me! not to have mentioned + Mr. Coleman and Mrs. Coleman, and Miss Coleman, and Mrs. Crump. And then + there's the clergyman that spoke to me in the garden that day the tree was + blown down.” + </p> + <p> + “What's his name!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know his name.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does he live?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you count him, then?” + </p> + <p> + “He did talk to me, and very kindlike too.” + </p> + <p> + His father laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Why, child, you're just counting everybody you know. That don't make 'em + friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't it? I thought it did. Well, but they shall be my friends. I shall + make 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “How will you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “They can't help themselves then, if they would. If I choose to be their + friend, you know, they can't prevent me. Then there's that girl at the + crossing.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine set of friends you do have, to be sure, Diamond!” + </p> + <p> + “Surely she's a friend anyhow, father. If it hadn't been for her, you + would never have got Mrs. Coleman and Miss Coleman to carry home.” + </p> + <p> + His father was silent, for he saw that Diamond was right, and was ashamed + to find himself more ungrateful than he had thought. + </p> + <p> + “Then there's the new gentleman,” Diamond went on. + </p> + <p> + “If he do as he say,” interposed his father. + </p> + <p> + “And why shouldn't he? I daresay sixpence ain't too much for him to spare. + But I don't quite understand, father: is nobody your friend but the one + that does something for you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won't say that, my boy. You would have to leave out baby then.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, I shouldn't. Baby can laugh in your face, and crow in your ears, + and make you feel so happy. Call you that nothing, father?” + </p> + <p> + The father's heart was fairly touched now. He made no answer to this last + appeal, and Diamond ended off with saying: + </p> + <p> + “And there's the best of mine to come yet—and that's you, daddy—except + it be mother, you know. You're my friend, daddy, ain't you? And I'm your + friend, ain't I?” + </p> + <p> + “And God for us all,” said his father, and then they were both silent for + that was very solemn. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. DIAMOND LEARNS TO READ + </h2> + <p> + THE question of the tall gentleman as to whether Diamond could read or not + set his father thinking it was high time he could; and as soon as old + Diamond was suppered and bedded, he began the task that very night. But it + was not much of a task to Diamond, for his father took for his lesson-book + those very rhymes his mother had picked up on the sea-shore; and as + Diamond was not beginning too soon, he learned very fast indeed. Within a + month he was able to spell out most of the verses for himself. + </p> + <p> + But he had never come upon the poem he thought he had heard his mother + read from it that day. He had looked through and through the book several + times after he knew the letters and a few words, fancying he could tell + the look of it, but had always failed to find one more like it than + another. So he wisely gave up the search till he could really read. Then + he resolved to begin at the beginning, and read them all straight through. + This took him nearly a fortnight. When he had almost reached the end, he + came upon the following verses, which took his fancy much, although they + were certainly not very like those he was in search of. + </p> + <p> + LITTLE BOY BLUE + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood. + Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey; + He said, “I would not go back if I could, + It's all so jolly and funny.” + + He sang, “This wood is all my own, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + So here I'll sit, like a king on my throne, + All so jolly and funny.” + + A little snake crept out of the tree, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + “Lie down at my feet, little snake,” said he, + All so jolly and funny. + + A little bird sang in the tree overhead, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + “Come and sing your song on my finger instead, + All so jolly and funny.” + + The snake coiled up; and the bird flew down, + And sang him the song of Birdie Brown. + + Little Boy Blue found it tiresome to sit, + And he thought he had better walk on a bit. + + So up he got, his way to take, + And he said, “Come along, little bird and snake.” + + And waves of snake o'er the damp leaves passed, + And the snake went first and Birdie Brown last; + + By Boy Blue's head, with flutter and dart, + Flew Birdie Brown with its song in its heart. + + He came where the apples grew red and sweet: + “Tree, drop me an apple down at my feet.” + + He came where the cherries hung plump and red: + “Come to my mouth, sweet kisses,” he said. + + And the boughs bow down, and the apples they dapple + The grass, too many for him to grapple. + + And the cheeriest cherries, with never a miss, + Fall to his mouth, each a full-grown kiss. + + He met a little brook singing a song. + He said, “Little brook, you are going wrong. + + “You must follow me, follow me, follow, I say + Do as I tell you, and come this way.” + + And the song-singing, sing-songing forest brook + Leaped from its bed and after him took, + + Followed him, followed. And pale and wan, + The dead leaves rustled as the water ran. + + And every bird high up on the bough, + And every creature low down below, + + He called, and the creatures obeyed the call, + Took their legs and their wings and followed him all; + + Squirrels that carried their tails like a sack, + Each on his own little humpy brown back; + + Householder snails, and slugs all tails, + And butterflies, flutterbies, ships all sails; + + And weasels, and ousels, and mice, and larks, + And owls, and rere-mice, and harkydarks, + + All went running, and creeping, and flowing, + After the merry boy fluttering and going; + + The dappled fawns fawning, the fallow-deer following, + The swallows and flies, flying and swallowing; + + Cockchafers, henchafers, cockioli-birds, + Cockroaches, henroaches, cuckoos in herds. + + The spider forgot and followed him spinning, + And lost all his thread from end to beginning. + + The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist, + He never had made such undignified haste. + + The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying. + The mole in his moleskins left his barrowing burrowing. + + The bees went buzzing, so busy and beesy, + And the midges in columns so upright and easy. + + But Little Boy Blue was not content, + Calling for followers still as he went, + + Blowing his horn, and beating his drum, + And crying aloud, “Come all of you, come!” + + He said to the shadows, “Come after me;” + And the shadows began to flicker and flee, + + And they flew through the wood all flattering and fluttering, + Over the dead leaves flickering and muttering. + + And he said to the wind, “Come, follow; come, follow, + With whistle and pipe, and rustle and hollo.” + + And the wind wound round at his desire, + As if he had been the gold cock on the spire. + + And the cock itself flew down from the church, + And left the farmers all in the lurch. + + They run and they fly, they creep and they come, + Everything, everything, all and some. + + The very trees they tugged at their roots, + Only their feet were too fast in their boots, + + After him leaning and straining and bending, + As on through their boles he kept walking and wending, + + Till out of the wood he burst on a lea, + Shouting and calling, “Come after me!” + + And then they rose up with a leafy hiss, + And stood as if nothing had been amiss. + + Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone, + And the creatures came round him every one. + + And he said to the clouds, “I want you there.” + And down they sank through the thin blue air. + + And he said to the sunset far in the West, + “Come here; I want you; I know best.” + + And the sunset came and stood up on the wold, + And burned and glowed in purple and gold. + + Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder: + “What's to be done with them all, I wonder.” + + Then Little Boy Blue, he said, quite low, + “What to do with you all I am sure I don't know.” + + Then the clouds clodded down till dismal it grew; + The snake sneaked close; round Birdie Brown flew; + + The brook sat up like a snake on its tail; + And the wind came up with a what-will-you wail; + + And all the creatures sat and stared; + The mole opened his very eyes and glared; + + And for rats and bats and the world and his wife, + Little Boy Blue was afraid of his life. + + Then Birdie Brown began to sing, + And what he sang was the very thing: + + “You have brought us all hither, Little Boy Blue, + Pray what do you want us all to do?” + + “Go away! go away!” said Little Boy Blue; + “I'm sure I don't want you—get away—do.” + + “No, no; no, no; no, yes, and no, no,” + Sang Birdie Brown, “it mustn't be so. + + “We cannot for nothing come here, and away. + Give us some work, or else we stay.” + + “Oh dear! and oh dear!” with sob and with sigh, + Said Little Boy Blue, and began to cry. + + But before he got far, he thought of a thing; + And up he stood, and spoke like a king. + + “Why do you hustle and jostle and bother? + Off with you all! Take me back to my mother.” + + The sunset stood at the gates of the west. + “Follow me, follow me” came from Birdie Brown's breast. + + “I am going that way as fast as I can,” + Said the brook, as it sank and turned and ran. + + Back to the woods fled the shadows like ghosts: + “If we stay, we shall all be missed from our posts.” + + Said the wind with a voice that had changed its cheer, + “I was just going there, when you brought me here.” + + “That's where I live,” said the sack-backed squirrel, + And he turned his sack with a swing and a swirl. + + Said the cock of the spire, “His father's churchwarden.” + Said the brook running faster, “I run through his garden.” + + Said the mole, “Two hundred worms—there I caught 'em + Last year, and I'm going again next autumn.” + + Said they all, “If that's where you want us to steer for, + What in earth or in water did you bring us here for?” + + “Never you mind,” said Little Boy Blue; + “That's what I tell you. If that you won't do, + + “I'll get up at once, and go home without you. + I think I will; I begin to doubt you.” + + He rose; and up rose the snake on its tail, + And hissed three times, half a hiss, half a wail. + + Little Boy Blue he tried to go past him; + But wherever he turned, sat the snake and faced him. + + “If you don't get out of my way,” he said, + “I tell you, snake, I will break your head.” + + The snake he neither would go nor come; + So he hit him hard with the stick of his drum. + + The snake fell down as if he were dead, + And Little Boy Blue set his foot on his head. + + And all the creatures they marched before him, + And marshalled him home with a high cockolorum. + + And Birdie Brown sang Twirrrr twitter twirrrr twee— + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + Little Boy Blue has listened to me— + All so jolly and funny. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. SAL'S NANNY + </h2> + <p> + DIAMOND managed with many blunders to read this rhyme to his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it nice, mother?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's pretty,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “I think it means something,” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I don't know what,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if it's the same boy—yes, it must be the same—Little + Boy Blue, you know. Let me see—how does that rhyme go? + </p> + <p> + Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn— + </p> + <p> + Yes, of course it is—for this one went `blowing his horn and beating + his drum.' He had a drum too. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn; + The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn, +</pre> + <p> + He had to keep them out, you know. But he wasn't minding his work. It goes— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? + He's under the haystack, fast asleep. +</pre> + <p> + There, you see, mother! And then, let me see— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Who'll go and wake him? No, not I; + For if I do, he'll be sure to cry. +</pre> + <p> + So I suppose nobody did wake him. He was a rather cross little boy, I + daresay, when woke up. And when he did wake of himself, and saw the + mischief the cow had done to the corn, instead of running home to his + mother, he ran away into the wood and lost himself. Don't you think that's + very likely, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “So you see he was naughty; for even when he lost himself he did not want + to go home. Any of the creatures would have shown him the way if he had + asked it—all but the snake. He followed the snake, you know, and he + took him farther away. I suppose it was a young one of the same serpent + that tempted Adam and Eve. Father was telling us about it last Sunday, you + remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless the child!” said his mother to herself; and then added aloud, + finding that Diamond did not go on, “Well, what next?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, mother. I'm sure there's a great deal more, but what it is + I can't say. I only know that he killed the snake. I suppose that's what + he had a drumstick for. He couldn't do it with his horn.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely you're not such a silly as to take it all for true, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it must be. It looks true. That killing of the snake looks true. + It's what I've got to do so often.” + </p> + <p> + His mother looked uneasy. Diamond smiled full in her face, and added— + </p> + <p> + “When baby cries and won't be happy, and when father and you talk about + your troubles, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + This did little to reassure his mother; and lest my reader should have his + qualms about it too, I venture to remind him once more that Diamond had + been to the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + Finding she made no reply, Diamond went on— + </p> + <p> + “In a week or so, I shall be able to go to the tall gentleman and tell him + I can read. And I'll ask him if he can help me to understand the rhyme.” + </p> + <p> + But before the week was out, he had another reason for going to Mr. + Raymond. + </p> + <p> + For three days, on each of which, at one time or other, Diamond's father + was on the same stand near the National Gallery, the girl was not at her + crossing, and Diamond got quite anxious about her, fearing she must be + ill. On the fourth day, not seeing her yet, he said to his father, who had + that moment shut the door of his cab upon a fare— + </p> + <p> + “Father, I want to go and look after the girl, She can't be well.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said his father. “Only take care of yourself, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he climbed on his box and drove off. + </p> + <p> + He had great confidence in his boy, you see, and would trust him anywhere. + But if he had known the kind of place in which the girl lived, he would + perhaps have thought twice before he allowed him to go alone. Diamond, who + did know something of it, had not, however, any fear. From talking to the + girl he had a good notion of where about it was, and he remembered the + address well enough; so by asking his way some twenty times, mostly of + policemen, he came at length pretty near the place. The last policeman he + questioned looked down upon him from the summit of six feet two inches, + and replied with another question, but kindly: + </p> + <p> + “What do you want there, my small kid? It ain't where you was bred, I + guess.” + </p> + <p> + “No sir” answered Diamond. “I live in Bloomsbury.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a long way off,” said the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's a good distance,” answered Diamond; “but I find my way about + pretty well. Policemen are always kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But what on earth do you want here?” + </p> + <p> + Diamond told him plainly what he was about, and of course the man believed + him, for nobody ever disbelieved Diamond. People might think he was + mistaken, but they never thought he was telling a story. + </p> + <p> + “It's an ugly place,” said the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “Is it far off?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No. It's next door almost. But it's not safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody hurts me,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I must go with you, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! please not,” said Diamond. “They might think I was going to + meddle with them, and I ain't, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, do as you please,” said the man, and gave him full directions. + </p> + <p> + Diamond set off, never suspecting that the policeman, who was a + kind-hearted man, with children of his own, was following him close, and + watching him round every corner. As he went on, all at once he thought he + remembered the place, and whether it really was so, or only that he had + laid up the policeman's instructions well in his mind, he went straight + for the cellar of old Sal. + </p> + <p> + “He's a sharp little kid, anyhow, for as simple as he looks,” said the man + to himself. “Not a wrong turn does he take! But old Sal's a rum un for + such a child to pay a morning visit to. She's worse when she's sober than + when she's half drunk. I've seen her when she'd have torn him in pieces.” + </p> + <p> + Happily then for Diamond, old Sal had gone out to get some gin. When he + came to her door at the bottom of the area-stair and knocked, he received + no answer. He laid his ear to the door, and thought he heard a moaning + within. So he tried the door, and found it was not locked! It was a dreary + place indeed,—and very dark, for the window was below the level of + the street, and covered with mud, while over the grating which kept people + from falling into the area, stood a chest of drawers, placed there by a + dealer in second-hand furniture, which shut out almost all the light. And + the smell in the place was dreadful. Diamond stood still for a while, for + he could see next to nothing, but he heard the moaning plainly enough now, + When he got used to the darkness, he discovered his friend lying with + closed eyes and a white suffering face on a heap of little better than + rags in a corner of the den. He went up to her and spoke; but she made him + no answer. Indeed, she was not in the least aware of his presence, and + Diamond saw that he could do nothing for her without help. So taking a + lump of barley-sugar from his pocket, which he had bought for her as he + came along, and laying it beside her, he left the place, having already + made up his mind to go and see the tall gentleman, Mr. Raymond, and ask + him to do something for Sal's Nanny, as the girl was called. + </p> + <p> + By the time he got up the area-steps, three or four women who had seen him + go down were standing together at the top waiting for him. They wanted his + clothes for their children; but they did not follow him down lest Sal + should find them there. The moment he appeared, they laid their hands on + him, and all began talking at once, for each wanted to get some advantage + over her neighbours. He told them quite quietly, for he was not + frightened, that he had come to see what was the matter with Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “What do you know about Nanny?” said one of them fiercely. “Wait till old + Sal comes home, and you'll catch it, for going prying into her house when + she's out. If you don't give me your jacket directly, I'll go and fetch + her.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't give you my jacket,” said Diamond. “It belongs to my father and + mother, you know. It's not mine to give. Is it now? You would not think it + right to give away what wasn't yours—would you now?” + </p> + <p> + “Give it away! No, that I wouldn't; I'd keep it,” she said, with a rough + laugh. “But if the jacket ain't yours, what right have you to keep it? + Here, Cherry, make haste. It'll be one go apiece.” + </p> + <p> + They all began to tug at the jacket, while Diamond stooped and kept his + arms bent to resist them. Before they had done him or the jacket any harm, + however, suddenly they all scampered away; and Diamond, looking in the + opposite direction, saw the tall policeman coming towards him. + </p> + <p> + “You had better have let me come with you, little man,” he said, looking + down in Diamond's face, which was flushed with his resistance. + </p> + <p> + “You came just in the right time, thank you,” returned Diamond. “They've + done me no harm.” + </p> + <p> + “They would have if I hadn't been at hand, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but you were at hand, you know, so they couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the answer was deeper in purport than either Diamond or the + policeman knew. They walked away together, Diamond telling his new friend + how ill poor Nanny was, and that he was going to let the tall gentleman + know. The policeman put him in the nearest way for Bloomsbury, and + stepping out in good earnest, Diamond reached Mr. Raymond's door in less + than an hour. When he asked if he was at home, the servant, in return, + asked what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + “I want to tell him something.” + </p> + <p> + “But I can't go and trouble him with such a message as that.” + </p> + <p> + “He told me to come to him—that is, when I could read—and I + can.” + </p> + <p> + “How am I to know that?” + </p> + <p> + Diamond stared with astonishment for one moment, then answered: + </p> + <p> + “Why, I've just told you. That's how you know it.” + </p> + <p> + But this man was made of coarser grain than the policeman, and, instead of + seeing that Diamond could not tell a lie, he put his answer down as + impudence, and saying, “Do you think I'm going to take your word for it?” + shut the door in his face. + </p> + <p> + Diamond turned and sat down on the doorstep, thinking with himself that + the tall gentleman must either come in or come out, and he was therefore + in the best possible position for finding him. He had not waited long + before the door opened again; but when he looked round, it was only the + servant once more. + </p> + <p> + “Get, away” he said. “What are you doing on the doorstep?” + </p> + <p> + “Waiting for Mr. Raymond,” answered Diamond, getting up. + </p> + <p> + “He's not at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll wait till he comes,” returned Diamond, sitting down again with + a smile. + </p> + <p> + What the man would have done next I do not know, but a step sounded from + the hall, and when Diamond looked round yet again, there was the tall + gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “Who's this, John?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir. An imperent little boy as will sit on the doorstep.” + </p> + <p> + “Please sir” said Diamond, “he told me you weren't at home, and I sat down + to wait for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, what!” said Mr. Raymond. “John! John! This won't do. Is it a habit of + yours to turn away my visitors? There'll be some one else to turn away, + I'm afraid, if I find any more of this kind of thing. Come in, my little + man. I suppose you've come to claim your sixpence?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, not that.” + </p> + <p> + “What! can't you read yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can now, a little. But I'll come for that next time. I came to + tell you about Sal's Nanny.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's Sal's Nanny?” + </p> + <p> + “The girl at the crossing you talked to the same day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; I remember. What's the matter? Has she got run over?” + </p> + <p> + Then Diamond told him all. + </p> + <p> + Now Mr. Raymond was one of the kindest men in London. He sent at once to + have the horse put to the brougham, took Diamond with him, and drove to + the Children's Hospital. There he was well known to everybody, for he was + not only a large subscriber, but he used to go and tell the children + stories of an afternoon. One of the doctors promised to go and find Nanny, + and do what could be done—have her brought to the hospital, if + possible. + </p> + <p> + That same night they sent a litter for her, and as she could be of no use + to old Sal until she was better, she did not object to having her removed. + So she was soon lying in the fever ward—for the first time in her + life in a nice clean bed. But she knew nothing of the whole affair. She + was too ill to know anything. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. MR. RAYMOND'S RIDDLE + </h2> + <p> + MR. RAYMOND took Diamond home with him, stopping at the Mews to tell his + mother that he would send him back soon. Diamond ran in with the message + himself, and when he reappeared he had in his hand the torn and crumpled + book which North Wind had given him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I see,” said Mr. Raymond: “you are going to claim your sixpence now.” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't thinking of that so much as of another thing,” said Diamond. + “There's a rhyme in this book I can't quite understand. I want you to tell + me what it means, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “I will if I can,” answered Mr. Raymond. “You shall read it to me when we + get home, and then I shall see.” + </p> + <p> + Still with a good many blunders, Diamond did read it after a fashion. Mr. + Raymond took the little book and read it over again. + </p> + <p> + Now Mr. Raymond was a poet himself, and so, although he had never been at + the back of the north wind, he was able to understand the poem pretty + well. But before saying anything about it, he read it over aloud, and + Diamond thought he understood it much better already. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what I think it means,” he then said. “It means that people + may have their way for a while, if they like, but it will get them into + such troubles they'll wish they hadn't had it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know!” said Diamond. “Like the poor cabman next door. He drinks + too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” returned Mr. Raymond. “But when people want to do right, things + about them will try to help them. Only they must kill the snake, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “I was sure the snake had something to do with it,” cried Diamond + triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + A good deal more talk followed, and Mr. Raymond gave Diamond his sixpence. + </p> + <p> + “What will you do with it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Take it home to my mother,” he answered. “She has a teapot—such a + black one!—with a broken spout, and she keeps all her money in it. + It ain't much; but she saves it up to buy shoes for me. And there's baby + coming on famously, and he'll want shoes soon. And every sixpence is + something—ain't it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure, my man. I hope you'll always make as good a use of your + money.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, sir,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “And here's a book for you, full of pictures and stories and poems. I + wrote it myself, chiefly for the children of the hospital where I hope + Nanny is going. I don't mean I printed it, you know. I made it,” added Mr. + Raymond, wishing Diamond to understand that he was the author of the book. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you mean. I make songs myself. They're awfully silly, but + they please baby, and that's all they're meant for.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you let me hear one of them now?” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I couldn't. I forget them as soon as I've done with them. + Besides, I couldn't make a line without baby on my knee. We make them + together, you know. They're just as much baby's as mine. It's he that + pulls them out of me.” + </p> + <p> + “I suspect the child's a genius,” said the poet to himself, “and that's + what makes people think him silly.” + </p> + <p> + Now if any of my child readers want to know what a genius is—shall I + try to tell them, or shall I not? I will give them one very short answer: + it means one who understands things without any other body telling him + what they mean. God makes a few such now and then to teach the rest of us. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like riddles?” asked Mr. Raymond, turning over the leaves of his + own book. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what a riddle is,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “It's something that means something else, and you've got to find out what + the something else is.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Raymond liked the old-fashioned riddle best, and had written a few—one + of which he now read. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I have only one foot, but thousands of toes; + My one foot stands, but never goes. + I have many arms, and they're mighty all; + And hundreds of fingers, large and small. + From the ends of my fingers my beauty grows. + I breathe with my hair, and I drink with my toes. + I grow bigger and bigger about the waist, + And yet I am always very tight laced. + None e'er saw me eat—I've no mouth to bite; + Yet I eat all day in the full sunlight. + In the summer with song I shave and quiver, + But in winter I fast and groan and shiver. +</pre> + <p> + “Do you know what that means, Diamond?” he asked, when he had finished. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed, I don't,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Then you can read it for yourself, and think over it, and see if you can + find out,” said Mr. Raymond, giving him the book. “And now you had better + go home to your mother. When you've found the riddle, you can come again.” + </p> + <p> + If Diamond had had to find out the riddle in order to see Mr. Raymond + again, I doubt if he would ever have seen him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh then,” I think I hear some little reader say, “he could not have been + a genius, for a genius finds out things without being told.” + </p> + <p> + I answer, “Genius finds out truths, not tricks.” And if you do not + understand that, I am afraid you must be content to wait till you grow + older and know more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. THE EARLY BIRD + </h2> + <p> + WHEN Diamond got home he found his father at home already, sitting by the + fire and looking rather miserable, for his head ached and he felt sick. He + had been doing night work of late, and it had not agreed with him, so he + had given it up, but not in time, for he had taken some kind of fever. The + next day he was forced to keep his bed, and his wife nursed him, and + Diamond attended to the baby. If he had not been ill, it would have been + delightful to have him at home; and the first day Diamond sang more songs + than ever to the baby, and his father listened with some pleasure. But the + next he could not bear even Diamond's sweet voice, and was very ill + indeed; so Diamond took the baby into his own room, and had no end of + quiet games with him there. If he did pull all his bedding on the floor, + it did not matter, for he kept baby very quiet, and made the bed himself + again, and slept in it with baby all the next night, and many nights + after. + </p> + <p> + But long before his father got well, his mother's savings were all but + gone. She did not say a word about it in the hearing of her husband, lest + she should distress him; and one night, when she could not help crying, + she came into Diamond's room that his father might not hear her. She + thought Diamond was asleep, but he was not. When he heard her sobbing, he + was frightened, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Is father worse, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Diamond,” she answered, as well as she could; “he's a good bit + better.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you crying for, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Because my money is almost all gone,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “O mammy, you make me think of a little poem baby and I learned out of + North Wind's book to-day. Don't you remember how I bothered you about some + of the words?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, child,” said his mother heedlessly, thinking only of what she should + do after to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + Diamond began and repeated the poem, for he had a wonderful memory. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A little bird sat on the edge of her nest; + Her yellow-beaks slept as sound as tops; + That day she had done her very best, + And had filled every one of their little crops. + She had filled her own just over-full, + And hence she was feeling a little dull. + + “Oh, dear!” she sighed, as she sat with her head + Sunk in her chest, and no neck at all, + While her crop stuck out like a feather bed + Turned inside out, and rather small; + “What shall I do if things don't reform? + I don't know where there's a single worm. + + “I've had twenty to-day, and the children five each, + Besides a few flies, and some very fat spiders: + No one will say I don't do as I preach— + I'm one of the best of bird-providers; + But where's the use? We want a storm— + I don't know where there's a single worm.” + + “There's five in my crop,” said a wee, wee bird, + Which woke at the voice of his mother's pain; + “I know where there's five.” And with the word + He tucked in his head, and went off again. + “The folly of childhood,” sighed his mother, + “Has always been my especial bother.” + + The yellow-beaks they slept on and on— + They never had heard of the bogy To-morrow; + But the mother sat outside, making her moan— + She'll soon have to beg, or steal, or borrow. + For she never can tell the night before, + Where she shall find one red worm more. + + The fact, as I say, was, she'd had too many; + She couldn't sleep, and she called it virtue, + Motherly foresight, affection, any + Name you may call it that will not hurt you, + So it was late ere she tucked her head in, + And she slept so late it was almost a sin. + + But the little fellow who knew of five + Nor troubled his head about any more, + Woke very early, felt quite alive, + And wanted a sixth to add to his store: + He pushed his mother, the greedy elf, + Then thought he had better try for himself. + + When his mother awoke and had rubbed her eyes, + Feeling less like a bird, and more like a mole, + She saw him—fancy with what surprise— + Dragging a huge worm out of a hole! + 'Twas of this same hero the proverb took form: + 'Tis the early bird that catches the worm. +</pre> + <p> + “There, mother!” said Diamond, as he finished; “ain't it funny?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you were like that little bird, Diamond, and could catch worms for + yourself,” said his mother, as she rose to go and look after her husband. + </p> + <p> + Diamond lay awake for a few minutes, thinking what he could do to catch + worms. It was very little trouble to make up his mind, however, and still + less to go to sleep after it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. ANOTHER EARLY BIRD + </h2> + <p> + HE GOT up in the morning as soon as he heard the men moving in the yard. + He tucked in his little brother so that he could not tumble out of bed, + and then went out, leaving the door open, so that if he should cry his + mother might hear him at once. When he got into the yard he found the + stable-door just opened. + </p> + <p> + “I'm the early bird, I think,” he said to himself. “I hope I shall catch + the worm.” + </p> + <p> + He would not ask any one to help him, fearing his project might meet with + disapproval and opposition. With great difficulty, but with the help of a + broken chair he brought down from his bedroom, he managed to put the + harness on Diamond. If the old horse had had the least objection to the + proceeding, of course he could not have done it; but even when it came to + the bridle, he opened his mouth for the bit, just as if he had been taking + the apple which Diamond sometimes gave him. He fastened the cheek-strap + very carefully, just in the usual hole, for fear of choking his friend, or + else letting the bit get amongst his teeth. It was a job to get the saddle + on; but with the chair he managed it. If old Diamond had had an education + in physics to equal that of the camel, he would have knelt down to let him + put it on his back, but that was more than could be expected of him, and + then Diamond had to creep quite under him to get hold of the girth. The + collar was almost the worst part of the business; but there Diamond could + help Diamond. He held his head very low till his little master had got it + over and turned it round, and then he lifted his head, and shook it on to + his shoulders. The yoke was rather difficult; but when he had laid the + traces over the horse's neck, the weight was not too much for him. He got + him right at last, and led him out of the stable. + </p> + <p> + By this time there were several of the men watching him, but they would + not interfere, they were so anxious to see how he would get over the + various difficulties. They followed him as far as the stable-door, and + there stood watching him again as he put the horse between the shafts, got + them up one after the other into the loops, fastened the traces, the + belly-band, the breeching, and the reins. + </p> + <p> + Then he got his whip. The moment he mounted the box, the men broke into a + hearty cheer of delight at his success. But they would not let him go + without a general inspection of the harness; and although they found it + right, for not a buckle had to be shifted, they never allowed him to do it + for himself again all the time his father was ill. + </p> + <p> + The cheer brought his mother to the window, and there she saw her little + boy setting out alone with the cab in the gray of morning. She tugged at + the window, but it was stiff; and before she could open it, Diamond, who + was in a great hurry, was out of the mews, and almost out of the street. + She called “Diamond! Diamond!” but there was no answer except from Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear for him, ma'am,” said Jack. “It 'ud be only a devil as would + hurt him, and there ain't so many o' them as some folk 'ud have you + believe. A boy o' Diamond's size as can 'arness a 'oss t'other Diamond's + size, and put him to, right as a trivet—if he do upset the keb—'ll + fall on his feet, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “But he won't upset the cab, will he, Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “Not he, ma'am. Leastways he won't go for to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know as much as that myself. What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean he's a little likely to do it as the oldest man in the stable. + How's the gov'nor to-day, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + “A good deal better, thank you,” she answered, closing the window in some + fear lest her husband should have been made anxious by the news of + Diamond's expedition. He knew pretty well, however, what his boy was + capable of, and although not quite easy was less anxious than his mother. + But as the evening drew on, the anxiety of both of them increased, and + every sound of wheels made his father raise himself in his bed, and his + mother peep out of the window. + </p> + <p> + Diamond had resolved to go straight to the cab-stand where he was best + known, and never to crawl for fear of getting annoyed by idlers. Before he + got across Oxford Street, however, he was hailed by a man who wanted to + catch a train, and was in too great a hurry to think about the driver. + Having carried him to King's Cross in good time, and got a good fare in + return, he set off again in great spirits, and reached the stand in + safety. He was the first there after all. + </p> + <p> + As the men arrived they all greeted him kindly, and inquired after his + father. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you afraid of the old 'oss running away with you?” asked one. + </p> + <p> + “No, he wouldn't run away with me,” answered Diamond. “He knows I'm + getting the shillings for father. Or if he did he would only run home.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're a plucky one, for all your girl's looks!” said the man; “and + I wish ye luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Diamond. “I'll do what I can. I came to the old + place, you see, because I knew you would let me have my turn here.” + </p> + <p> + In the course of the day one man did try to cut him out, but he was a + stranger; and the shout the rest of them raised let him see it would not + do, and made him so far ashamed besides, that he went away crawling. + </p> + <p> + Once, in a block, a policeman came up to him, and asked him for his + number. Diamond showed him his father's badge, saying with a smile: + </p> + <p> + “Father's ill at home, and so I came out with the cab. There's no fear of + me. I can drive. Besides, the old horse could go alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as well, I daresay. You're a pair of 'em. But you are a rum 'un for + a cabby—ain't you now?” said the policeman. “I don't know as I ought + to let you go.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't done nothing,” said Diamond. “It's not my fault I'm no bigger. + I'm big enough for my age.” + </p> + <p> + “That's where it is,” said the man. “You ain't fit.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” asked Diamond, with his usual smile, and turning + his head like a little bird. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how are you to get out of this ruck now, when it begins to move?” + </p> + <p> + “Just you get up on the box,” said Diamond, “and I'll show you. There, + that van's a-moving now. Jump up.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman did as Diamond told him, and was soon satisfied that the + little fellow could drive. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, as he got down again, “I don't know as I should be right + to interfere. Good luck to you, my little man!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and drove away. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes a gentleman hailed him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the driver of this cab?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir” said Diamond, showing his badge, of which, he was proud. + </p> + <p> + “You're the youngest cabman I ever saw. How am I to know you won't break + all my bones?” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather break all my own,” said Diamond. “But if you're afraid, + never mind me; I shall soon get another fare.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll risk it,” said the gentleman; and, opening the door himself, he + jumped in. + </p> + <p> + He was going a good distance, and soon found that Diamond got him over the + ground well. Now when Diamond had only to go straight ahead, and had not + to mind so much what he was about, his thoughts always turned to the + riddle Mr. Raymond had set him; and this gentleman looked so clever that + he fancied he must be able to read it for him. He had given up all hope of + finding it out for himself, and he could not plague his father about it + when he was ill. He had thought of the answer himself, but fancied it + could not be the right one, for to see how it all fitted required some + knowledge of physiology. So, when he reached the end of his journey, he + got down very quickly, and with his head just looking in at the window, + said, as the gentleman gathered his gloves and newspapers: + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, can you tell me the meaning of a riddle?” + </p> + <p> + “You must tell me the riddle first,” answered the gentleman, amused. + </p> + <p> + Diamond repeated the riddle. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that's easy enough,” he returned. “It's a tree.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it ain't got no mouth, sure enough; but how then does it eat all + day long?” + </p> + <p> + “It sucks in its food through the tiniest holes in its leaves,” he + answered. “Its breath is its food. And it can't do it except in the + daylight.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir, thank you,” returned Diamond. “I'm sorry I couldn't find + it out myself; Mr. Raymond would have been better pleased with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you needn't tell him any one told you.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond gave him a stare which came from the very back of the north wind, + where that kind of thing is unknown. + </p> + <p> + “That would be cheating,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you a cabby, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Cabbies don't cheat.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't they? I am of a different opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure my father don't.” + </p> + <p> + “What's your fare, young innocent?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think the distance is a good deal over three miles—that's + two shillings. Only father says sixpence a mile is too little, though we + can't ask for more.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a deep one. But I think you're wrong. It's over four miles—not + much, but it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's half-a-crown,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here's three shillings. Will that do?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly, sir. I'll tell my father how good you were to me—first + to tell me my riddle, then to put me right about the distance, and then to + give me sixpence over. It'll help father to get well again, it will.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it may, my man. I shouldn't wonder if you're as good as you look, + after all.” + </p> + <p> + As Diamond returned, he drew up at a stand he had never been on before: it + was time to give Diamond his bag of chopped beans and oats. The men got + about him, and began to chaff him. He took it all good-humouredly, until + one of them, who was an ill-conditioned fellow, began to tease old Diamond + by poking him roughly in the ribs, and making general game of him. That he + could not bear, and the tears came in his eyes. He undid the nose-bag, put + it in the boot, and was just going to mount and drive away, when the + fellow interfered, and would not let him get up. Diamond endeavoured to + persuade him, and was very civil, but he would have his fun out of him, as + he said. In a few minutes a group of idle boys had assembled, and Diamond + found himself in a very uncomfortable position. Another cab drew up at the + stand, and the driver got off and approached the assemblage. + </p> + <p> + “What's up here?” he asked, and Diamond knew the voice. It was that of the + drunken cabman. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see this young oyster? He pretends to drive a cab,” said his + enemy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do see him. And I sees you too. You'd better leave him alone. He + ain't no oyster. He's a angel come down on his own business. You be off, + or I'll be nearer you than quite agreeable.” + </p> + <p> + The drunken cabman was a tall, stout man, who did not look one to take + liberties with. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if he's a friend of yours,” said the other, drawing back. + </p> + <p> + Diamond got out the nose-bag again. Old Diamond should have his feed out + now. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is a friend o' mine. One o' the best I ever had. It's a pity he + ain't a friend o' yourn. You'd be the better for it, but it ain't no fault + of hisn.” + </p> + <p> + When Diamond went home at night, he carried with him one pound one + shilling and sixpence, besides a few coppers extra, which had followed + some of the fares. + </p> + <p> + His mother had got very anxious indeed—so much so that she was + almost afraid, when she did hear the sound of his cab, to go and look, + lest she should be yet again disappointed, and should break down before + her husband. But there was the old horse, and there was the cab all right, + and there was Diamond in the box, his pale face looking triumphant as a + full moon in the twilight. + </p> + <p> + When he drew up at the stable-door, Jack came out, and after a good many + friendly questions and congratulations, said: + </p> + <p> + “You go in to your mother, Diamond. I'll put up the old 'oss. I'll take + care on him. He do deserve some small attention, he do.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Jack,” said Diamond, and bounded into the house, and into the + arms of his mother, who was waiting him at the top of the stair. + </p> + <p> + The poor, anxious woman led him into his own room, sat down on his bed, + took him on her lap as if he had been a baby, and cried. + </p> + <p> + “How's father?” asked Diamond, almost afraid to ask. + </p> + <p> + “Better, my child,” she answered, “but uneasy about you, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you tell him I was the early bird gone out to catch the worm?” + </p> + <p> + “That was what put it in your head, was it, you monkey?” said his mother, + beginning to get better. + </p> + <p> + “That or something else,” answered Diamond, so very quietly that his + mother held his head back and stared in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Well! of all the children!” she said, and said no more. + </p> + <p> + “And here's my worm,” resumed Diamond. + </p> + <p> + But to see her face as he poured the shillings and sixpences and pence + into her lap! She burst out crying a second time, and ran with the money + to her husband. + </p> + <p> + And how pleased he was! It did him no end of good. But while he was + counting the coins, Diamond turned to baby, who was lying awake in his + cradle, sucking his precious thumb, and took him up, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Baby, baby! I haven't seen you for a whole year.” + </p> + <p> + And then he began to sing to him as usual. And what he sang was this, for + he was too happy either to make a song of his own or to sing sense. It was + one out of Mr. Raymond's book. + </p> + <p> + THE TRUE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Hey, diddle, diddle! + The cat and the fiddle! + He played such a merry tune, + That the cow went mad + With the pleasure she had, + And jumped right over the moon. + But then, don't you see? + Before that could be, + The moon had come down and listened. + The little dog hearkened, + So loud that he barkened, + “There's nothing like it, there isn't.” + + Hey, diddle, diddle! + Went the cat and the fiddle, + Hey diddle, diddle, dee, dee! + The dog laughed at the sport + Till his cough cut him short, + It was hey diddle, diddle, oh me! + And back came the cow + With a merry, merry low, + For she'd humbled the man in the moon. + The dish got excited, + The spoon was delighted, + And the dish waltzed away with the spoon. + + But the man in the moon, + Coming back too soon + From the famous town of Norwich, + Caught up the dish, + Said, “It's just what I wish + To hold my cold plum-porridge!” + Gave the cow a rat-tat, + Flung water on the cat, + And sent him away like a rocket. + Said, “O Moon there you are!” + Got into her car, + And went off with the spoon in his pocket + + Hey ho! diddle, diddle! + The wet cat and wet fiddle, + They made such a caterwauling, + That the cow in a fright + Stood bolt upright + Bellowing now, and bawling; + And the dog on his tail, + Stretched his neck with a wail. + But “Ho! ho!” said the man in the moon— + “No more in the South + Shall I burn my mouth, + For I've found a dish and a spoon.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. DIAMOND'S DREAM + </h2> + <p> + “THERE, baby!” said Diamond; “I'm so happy that I can only sing nonsense. + Oh, father, think if you had been a poor man, and hadn't had a cab and old + Diamond! What should I have done?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know indeed what you could have done,” said his father from the + bed. + </p> + <p> + “We should have all starved, my precious Diamond,” said his mother, whose + pride in her boy was even greater than her joy in the shillings. Both of + them together made her heart ache, for pleasure can do that as well as + pain. + </p> + <p> + “Oh no! we shouldn't,” said Diamond. “I could have taken Nanny's crossing + till she came back; and then the money, instead of going for Old Sal's + gin, would have gone for father's beef-tea. I wonder what Nanny will do + when she gets well again. Somebody else will be sure to have taken the + crossing by that time. I wonder if she will fight for it, and whether I + shall have to help her. I won't bother my head about that. Time enough + yet! Hey diddle! hey diddle! hey diddle diddle! I wonder whether Mr. + Raymond would take me to see Nanny. Hey diddle! hey diddle! hey diddle + diddle! The baby and fiddle! O, mother, I'm such a silly! But I can't help + it. I wish I could think of something else, but there's nothing will come + into my head but hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle! I wonder what + the angels do—when they're extra happy, you know—when they've + been driving cabs all day and taking home the money to their mothers. Do + you think they ever sing nonsense, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay they've got their own sort of it,” answered his mother, “else + they wouldn't be like other people.” She was thinking more of her + twenty-one shillings and sixpence, and of the nice dinner she would get + for her sick husband next day, than of the angels and their nonsense, when + she said it. But Diamond found her answer all right. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to be sure,” he replied. “They wouldn't be like other people if they + hadn't their nonsense sometimes. But it must be very pretty nonsense, and + not like that silly hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle! I wish I + could get it out of my head. I wonder what the angels' nonsense is like. + Nonsense is a very good thing, ain't it, mother?—a little of it now + and then; more of it for baby, and not so much for grown people like + cabmen and their mothers? It's like the pepper and salt that goes in the + soup—that's it—isn't it, mother? There's baby fast asleep! Oh, + what a nonsense baby it is—to sleep so much! Shall I put him down, + mother?” + </p> + <p> + Diamond chattered away. What rose in his happy little heart ran out of his + mouth, and did his father and mother good. When he went to bed, which he + did early, being more tired, as you may suppose, than usual, he was still + thinking what the nonsense could be like which the angels sang when they + were too happy to sing sense. But before coming to any conclusion he fell + fast asleep. And no wonder, for it must be acknowledged a difficult + question. + </p> + <p> + That night he had a very curious dream which I think my readers would like + to have told them. They would, at least, if they are as fond of nice + dreams as I am, and don't have enough of them of their own. + </p> + <p> + He dreamed that he was running about in the twilight in the old garden. He + thought he was waiting for North Wind, but she did not come. So he would + run down to the back gate, and see if she were there. He ran and ran. It + was a good long garden out of his dream, but in his dream it had grown so + long and spread out so wide that the gate he wanted was nowhere. He ran + and ran, but instead of coming to the gate found himself in a beautiful + country, not like any country he had ever been in before. There were no + trees of any size; nothing bigger in fact than hawthorns, which were full + of may-blossom. The place in which they grew was wild and dry, mostly + covered with grass, but having patches of heath. It extended on every side + as far as he could see. But although it was so wild, yet wherever in an + ordinary heath you might have expected furze bushes, or holly, or broom, + there grew roses—wild and rare—all kinds. On every side, far + and near, roses were glowing. There too was the gum-cistus, whose flowers + fall every night and come again the next morning, lilacs and syringas and + laburnums, and many shrubs besides, of which he did not know the names; + but the roses were everywhere. He wandered on and on, wondering when it + would come to an end. It was of no use going back, for there was no house + to be seen anywhere. But he was not frightened, for you know Diamond was + used to things that were rather out of the way. He threw himself down + under a rose-bush, and fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + He woke, not out of his dream, but into it, thinking he heard a child's + voice, calling “Diamond, Diamond!” He jumped up, but all was still about + him. The rose-bushes were pouring out their odours in clouds. He could see + the scent like mists of the same colour as the rose, issuing like a slow + fountain and spreading in the air till it joined the thin rosy vapour + which hung over all the wilderness. But again came the voice calling him, + and it seemed to come from over his head. He looked up, but saw only the + deep blue sky full of stars—more brilliant, however, than he had + seen them before; and both sky and stars looked nearer to the earth. + </p> + <p> + While he gazed up, again he heard the cry. At the same moment he saw one + of the biggest stars over his head give a kind of twinkle and jump, as if + it went out and came in again. He threw himself on his back, and fixed his + eyes upon it. Nor had he gazed long before it went out, leaving something + like a scar in the blue. But as he went on gazing he saw a face where the + star had been—a merry face, with bright eyes. The eyes appeared not + only to see Diamond, but to know that Diamond had caught sight of them, + for the face withdrew the same moment. Again came the voice, calling + “Diamond, Diamond;” and in jumped the star to its place. + </p> + <p> + Diamond called as loud as he could, right up into the sky: + </p> + <p> + “Here's Diamond, down below you. What do you want him to do?” + </p> + <p> + The next instant many of the stars round about that one went out, and many + voices shouted from the sky,— + </p> + <p> + “Come up; come up. We're so jolly! Diamond! Diamond!” + </p> + <p> + This was followed by a peal of the merriest, kindliest laughter, and all + the stars jumped into their places again. + </p> + <p> + “How am I to come up?” shouted Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Go round the rose-bush. It's got its foot in it,” said the first voice. + </p> + <p> + Diamond got up at once, and walked to the other side of the rose-bush. + </p> + <p> + There he found what seemed the very opposite of what he wanted—a + stair down into the earth. It was of turf and moss. It did not seem to + promise well for getting into the sky, but Diamond had learned to look + through the look of things. The voice must have meant that he was to go + down this stair; and down this stair Diamond went, without waiting to + think more about it. + </p> + <p> + It was such a nice stair, so cool and soft—all the sides as well as + the steps grown with moss and grass and ferns! Down and down Diamond went—a + long way, until at last he heard the gurgling and splashing of a little + stream; nor had he gone much farther before he met it—yes, met it + coming up the stairs to meet him, running up just as naturally as if it + had been doing the other thing. Neither was Diamond in the least surprised + to see it pitching itself from one step to another as it climbed towards + him: he never thought it was odd—and no more it was, there. It would + have been odd here. It made a merry tune as it came, and its voice was + like the laughter he had heard from the sky. This appeared promising; and + he went on, down and down the stair, and up and up the stream, till at + last he came where it hurried out from under a stone, and the stair + stopped altogether. And as the stream bubbled up, the stone shook and + swayed with its force; and Diamond thought he would try to lift it. + Lightly it rose to his hand, forced up by the stream from below; and, by + what would have seemed an unaccountable perversion of things had he been + awake, threatened to come tumbling upon his head. But he avoided it, and + when it fell, got upon it. He now saw that the opening through which the + water came pouring in was over his head, and with the help of the stone he + scrambled out by it, and found himself on the side of a grassy hill which + rounded away from him in every direction, and down which came the brook + which vanished in the hole. But scarcely had he noticed so much as this + before a merry shouting and laughter burst upon him, and a number of naked + little boys came running, every one eager to get to him first. At the + shoulders of each fluttered two little wings, which were of no use for + flying, as they were mere buds; only being made for it they could not help + fluttering as if they were flying. Just as the foremost of the troop + reached him, one or two of them fell, and the rest with shouts of laughter + came tumbling over them till they heaped up a mound of struggling + merriment. One after another they extricated themselves, and each as he + got free threw his arms round Diamond and kissed him. Diamond's heart was + ready to melt within him from clear delight. When they had all embraced + him,— + </p> + <p> + “Now let us have some fun,” cried one, and with a shout they all scampered + hither and thither, and played the wildest gambols on the grassy slopes. + They kept constantly coming back to Diamond, however, as the centre of + their enjoyment, rejoicing over him as if they had found a lost playmate. + </p> + <p> + There was a wind on the hillside which blew like the very embodiment of + living gladness. It blew into Diamond's heart, and made him so happy that + he was forced to sit down and cry. + </p> + <p> + “Now let's go and dig for stars,” said one who seemed to be the captain of + the troop. + </p> + <p> + They all scurried away, but soon returned, one after another, each with a + pickaxe on his shoulder and a spade in his hand. As soon as they were + gathered, the captain led them in a straight line to another part of the + hill. Diamond rose and followed. + </p> + <p> + “Here is where we begin our lesson for to-night,” he said. “Scatter and + dig.” + </p> + <p> + There was no more fun. Each went by himself, walking slowly with bent + shoulders and his eyes fixed on the ground. Every now and then one would + stop, kneel down, and look intently, feeling with his hands and parting + the grass. One would get up and walk on again, another spring to his feet, + catch eagerly at his pickaxe and strike it into the ground once and again, + then throw it aside, snatch up his spade, and commence digging at the + loosened earth. Now one would sorrowfully shovel the earth into the hole + again, trample it down with his little bare white feet, and walk on. But + another would give a joyful shout, and after much tugging and loosening + would draw from the hole a lump as big as his head, or no bigger than his + fist; when the under side of it would pour such a blaze of golden or + bluish light into Diamond's eyes that he was quite dazzled. Gold and blue + were the commoner colours: the jubilation was greater over red or green or + purple. And every time a star was dug up all the little angels dropped + their tools and crowded about it, shouting and dancing and fluttering + their wing-buds. + </p> + <p> + When they had examined it well, they would kneel down one after the other + and peep through the hole; but they always stood back to give Diamond the + first look. All that diamond could report, however, was, that through the + star-holes he saw a great many things and places and people he knew quite + well, only somehow they were different—there was something + marvellous about them—he could not tell what. Every time he rose + from looking through a star-hole, he felt as if his heart would break for, + joy; and he said that if he had not cried, he did not know what would have + become of him. + </p> + <p> + As soon as all had looked, the star was carefully fitted in again, a + little mould was strewn over it, and the rest of the heap left as a sign + that the star had been discovered. + </p> + <p> + At length one dug up a small star of a most lovely colour—a colour + Diamond had never seen before. The moment the angel saw what it was, + instead of showing it about, he handed it to one of his neighbours, and + seated himself on the edge of the hole, saying: + </p> + <p> + “This will do for me. Good-bye. I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + They crowded about him, hugging and kissing him; then stood back with a + solemn stillness, their wings lying close to their shoulders. The little + fellow looked round on them once with a smile, and then shot himself + headlong through the star-hole. Diamond, as privileged, threw himself on + the ground to peep after him, but he saw nothing. “It's no use,” said the + captain. “I never saw anything more of one that went that way.” + </p> + <p> + “His wings can't be much use,” said Diamond, concerned and fearful, yet + comforted by the calm looks of the rest. + </p> + <p> + “That's true,” said the captain. “He's lost them by this time. They all do + that go that way. You haven't got any, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Diamond. “I never did have any.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! didn't you?” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Some people say,” he added, after a pause, “that they come again. I don't + know. I've never found the colour I care about myself. I suppose I shall + some day.” + </p> + <p> + Then they looked again at the star, put it carefully into its hole, danced + around it and over it—but solemnly, and called it by the name of the + finder. + </p> + <p> + “Will you know it again?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. We never forget a star that's been made a door of.” + </p> + <p> + Then they went on with their searching and digging. + </p> + <p> + Diamond having neither pickaxe nor spade, had the more time to think. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see any little girls,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + The captain stopped his shovelling, leaned on his spade, rubbed his + forehead thoughtfully with his left hand—the little angels were all + left-handed—repeated the words “little girls,” and then, as if a + thought had struck him, resumed his work, saying— + </p> + <p> + “I think I know what you mean. I've never seen any of them, of course; but + I suppose that's the sort you mean. I'm told—but mind I don't say it + is so, for I don't know—that when we fall asleep, a troop of angels + very like ourselves, only quite different, goes round to all the stars we + have discovered, and discovers them after us. I suppose with our + shovelling and handling we spoil them a bit; and I daresay the clouds that + come up from below make them smoky and dull sometimes. They say—mind, + I say they say—these other angels take them out one by one, and pass + each round as we do, and breathe over it, and rub it with their white + hands, which are softer than ours, because they don't do any + pick-and-spade work, and smile at it, and put it in again: and that is + what keeps them from growing dark.” + </p> + <p> + “How jolly!” thought Diamond. “I should like to see them at their work + too.—When do you go to sleep?” he asked the captain. + </p> + <p> + “When we grow sleepy,” answered the captain. “They do say—but mind I + say they say—that it is when those others—what do you call + them? I don't know if that is their name; I am only guessing that may be + the sort you mean—when they are on their rounds and come near any + troop of us we fall asleep. They live on the west side of the hill. None + of us have ever been to the top of it yet.” + </p> + <p> + Even as he spoke, he dropped his spade. He tumbled down beside it, and lay + fast asleep. One after the other each of the troop dropped his pickaxe or + shovel from his listless hands, and lay fast asleep by his work. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” thought Diamond to himself, with delight, “now the girl-angels are + coming, and I, not being an angel, shall not fall asleep like the rest, + and I shall see the girl-angels.” + </p> + <p> + But the same moment he felt himself growing sleepy. He struggled hard with + the invading power. He put up his fingers to his eyelids and pulled them + open. But it was of no use. He thought he saw a glimmer of pale rosy light + far up the green hill, and ceased to know. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke, all the angels were starting up wide awake too. He expected + to see them lift their tools, but no, the time for play had come. They + looked happier than ever, and each began to sing where he stood. He had + not heard them sing before. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” he thought, “I shall know what kind of nonsense the angels sing + when they are merry. They don't drive cabs, I see, but they dig for stars, + and they work hard enough to be merry after it.” + </p> + <p> + And he did hear some of the angels' nonsense; for if it was all sense to + them, it had only just as much sense to Diamond as made good nonsense of + it. He tried hard to set it down in his mind, listening as closely as he + could, now to one, now to another, and now to all together. But while they + were yet singing he began, to his dismay, to find that he was coming awake—faster + and faster. And as he came awake, he found that, for all the goodness of + his memory, verse after verse of the angels' nonsense vanished from it. He + always thought he could keep the last, but as the next began he lost the + one before it, and at length awoke, struggling to keep hold of the last + verse of all. He felt as if the effort to keep from forgetting that one + verse of the vanishing song nearly killed him. And yet by the time he was + wide awake he could not be sure of that even. It was something like this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + White hands of whiteness + Wash the stars' faces, + Till glitter, glitter, glit, goes their brightness + Down to poor places. +</pre> + <p> + This, however, was so near sense that he thought it could not be really + what they did sing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. DIAMOND TAKES A FARE THE WRONG WAY RIGHT + </h2> + <p> + THE next morning Diamond was up almost as early as before. He had nothing + to fear from his mother now, and made no secret of what he was about. By + the time he reached the stable, several of the men were there. They asked + him a good many questions as to his luck the day before, and he told them + all they wanted to know. But when he proceeded to harness the old horse, + they pushed him aside with rough kindness, called him a baby, and began to + do it all for him. So Diamond ran in and had another mouthful of tea and + bread and butter; and although he had never been so tired as he was the + night before, he started quite fresh this morning. It was a cloudy day, + and the wind blew hard from the north—so hard sometimes that, + perched on the box with just his toes touching the ground, Diamond wished + that he had some kind of strap to fasten himself down with lest he should + be blown away. But he did not really mind it. + </p> + <p> + His head was full of the dream he had dreamed; but it did not make him + neglect his work, for his work was not to dig stars but to drive old + Diamond and pick up fares. There are not many people who can think about + beautiful things and do common work at the same time. But then there are + not many people who have been to the back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + There was not much business doing. And Diamond felt rather cold, + notwithstanding his mother had herself put on his comforter and helped him + with his greatcoat. But he was too well aware of his dignity to get inside + his cab as some do. A cabman ought to be above minding the weather—at + least so Diamond thought. At length he was called to a neighbouring house, + where a young woman with a heavy box had to be taken to Wapping for a + coast-steamer. + </p> + <p> + He did not find it at all pleasant, so far east and so near the river; for + the roughs were in great force. However, there being no block, not even in + Nightingale Lane, he reached the entrance of the wharf, and set down his + passenger without annoyance. But as he turned to go back, some idlers, not + content with chaffing him, showed a mind to the fare the young woman had + given him. They were just pulling him off the box, and Diamond was + shouting for the police, when a pale-faced man, in very shabby clothes, + but with the look of a gentleman somewhere about him, came up, and making + good use of his stick, drove them off. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my little man,” he said, “get on while you can. Don't lose any time. + This is not a place for you.” + </p> + <p> + But Diamond was not in the habit of thinking only of himself. He saw that + his new friend looked weary, if not ill, and very poor. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you jump in, sir?” he said. “I will take you wherever you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my man; but I have no money; so I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I don't want any money. I shall be much happier if you will get in. + You have saved me all I had. I owe you a lift, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Which way are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “To Charing Cross; but I don't mind where I go.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am very tired. If you will take me to Charing Cross, I shall be + greatly obliged to you. I have walked from Gravesend, and had hardly a + penny left to get through the tunnel.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he opened the door and got in, and Diamond drove away. + </p> + <p> + But as he drove, he could not help fancying he had seen the gentleman—for + Diamond knew he was a gentleman—before. Do all he could, however, he + could not recall where or when. Meantime his fare, if we may call him + such, seeing he was to pay nothing, whom the relief of being carried had + made less and less inclined to carry himself, had been turning over things + in his mind, and, as they passed the Mint, called to Diamond, who stopped + the horse, got down and went to the window. + </p> + <p> + “If you didn't mind taking me to Chiswick, I should be able to pay you + when we got there. It's a long way, but you shall have the whole fare from + the Docks—and something over.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir” said Diamond. “I shall be most happy.” + </p> + <p> + He was just clambering up again, when the gentleman put his head out of + the window and said— + </p> + <p> + “It's The Wilderness—Mr. Coleman's place; but I'll direct you when + we come into the neighbourhood.” + </p> + <p> + It flashed upon Diamond who he was. But he got upon his box to arrange his + thoughts before making any reply. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman was Mr. Evans, to whom Miss Coleman was to have been + married, and Diamond had seen him several times with her in the garden. I + have said that he had not behaved very well to Miss Coleman. He had put + off their marriage more than once in a cowardly fashion, merely because he + was ashamed to marry upon a small income, and live in a humble way. When a + man thinks of what people will say in such a case, he may love, but his + love is but a poor affair. Mr. Coleman took him into the firm as a junior + partner, and it was in a measure through his influence that he entered + upon those speculations which ruined him. So his love had not been a + blessing. The ship which North Wind had sunk was their last venture, and + Mr. Evans had gone out with it in the hope of turning its cargo to the + best advantage. He was one of the single boat-load which managed to reach + a desert island, and he had gone through a great many hardships and + sufferings since then. But he was not past being taught, and his troubles + had done him no end of good, for they had made him doubt himself, and + begin to think, so that he had come to see that he had been foolish as + well as wicked. For, if he had had Miss Coleman with him in the desert + island, to build her a hut, and hunt for her food, and make clothes for + her, he would have thought himself the most fortunate of men; and when he + was at home, he would not marry till he could afford a man-servant. Before + he got home again, he had even begun to understand that no man can make + haste to be rich without going against the will of God, in which case it + is the one frightful thing to be successful. So he had come back a more + humble man, and longing to ask Miss Coleman to forgive him. But he had no + idea what ruin had fallen upon them, for he had never made himself + thoroughly acquainted with the firm's affairs. Few speculative people do + know their own affairs. Hence he never doubted he should find matters much + as he left them, and expected to see them all at The Wilderness as before. + But if he had not fallen in with Diamond, he would not have thought of + going there first. + </p> + <p> + What was Diamond to do? He had heard his father and mother drop some + remarks concerning Mr. Evans which made him doubtful of him. He understood + that he had not been so considerate as he might have been. So he went + rather slowly till he should make up his mind. It was, of course, of no + use to drive Mr. Evans to Chiswick. But if he should tell him what had + befallen them, and where they lived now, he might put off going to see + them, and he was certain that Miss Coleman, at least, must want very much + to see Mr. Evans. He was pretty sure also that the best thing in any case + was to bring them together, and let them set matters right for themselves. + </p> + <p> + The moment he came to this conclusion, he changed his course from westward + to northward, and went straight for Mr. Coleman's poor little house in + Hoxton. Mr. Evans was too tired and too much occupied with his thoughts to + take the least notice of the streets they passed through, and had no + suspicion, therefore, of the change of direction. + </p> + <p> + By this time the wind had increased almost to a hurricane, and as they had + often to head it, it was no joke for either of the Diamonds. The distance, + however, was not great. Before they reached the street where Mr. Coleman + lived it blew so tremendously, that when Miss Coleman, who was going out a + little way, opened the door, it dashed against the wall with such a bang, + that she was afraid to venture, and went in again. In five minutes after, + Diamond drew up at the door. As soon as he had entered the street, + however, the wind blew right behind them, and when he pulled up, old + Diamond had so much ado to stop the cab against it, that the breeching + broke. Young Diamond jumped off his box, knocked loudly at the door, then + turned to the cab and said—before Mr. Evans had quite begun to think + something must be amiss: + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, my harness has given away. Would you mind stepping in here + for a few minutes? They're friends of mine. I'll take you where you like + after I've got it mended. I shan't be many minutes, but you can't stand in + this wind.” + </p> + <p> + Half stupid with fatigue and want of food, Mr. Evans yielded to the boy's + suggestion, and walked in at the door which the maid held with difficulty + against the wind. She took Mr. Evans for a visitor, as indeed he was, and + showed him into the room on the ground-floor. Diamond, who had followed + into the hall, whispered to her as she closed the door— + </p> + <p> + “Tell Miss Coleman. It's Miss Coleman he wants to see.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know” said the maid. “He don't look much like a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “He is, though; and I know him, and so does Miss Coleman.” + </p> + <p> + The maid could not but remember Diamond, having seen him when he and his + father brought the ladies home. So she believed him, and went to do what + he told her. + </p> + <p> + What passed in the little parlour when Miss Coleman came down does not + belong to my story, which is all about Diamond. If he had known that Miss + Coleman thought Mr. Evans was dead, perhaps he would have managed + differently. There was a cry and a running to and fro in the house, and + then all was quiet again. + </p> + <p> + Almost as soon as Mr. Evans went in, the wind began to cease, and was now + still. Diamond found that by making the breeching just a little tighter + than was quite comfortable for the old horse he could do very well for the + present; and, thinking it better to let him have his bag in this quiet + place, he sat on the box till the old horse should have eaten his dinner. + In a little while Mr. Evans came out, and asked him to come in. Diamond + obeyed, and to his delight Miss Coleman put her arms round him and kissed + him, and there was payment for him! Not to mention the five precious + shillings she gave him, which he could not refuse because his mother + wanted them so much at home for his father. He left them nearly as happy + as they were themselves. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the day he did better, and, although he had not so much to + take home as the day before, yet on the whole the result was satisfactory. + And what a story he had to tell his father and mother about his + adventures, and how he had done, and what was the result! They asked him + such a multitude of questions! some of which he could answer, and some of + which he could not answer; and his father seemed ever so much better from + finding that his boy was already not only useful to his family but useful + to other people, and quite taking his place as a man who judged what was + wise, and did work worth doing. + </p> + <p> + For a fortnight Diamond went on driving his cab, and keeping his family. + He had begun to be known about some parts of London, and people would + prefer taking his cab because they liked what they heard of him. One + gentleman who lived near the mews engaged him to carry him to the City + every morning at a certain hour; and Diamond was punctual as clockwork—though + to effect that required a good deal of care, for his father's watch was + not much to be depended on, and had to be watched itself by the clock of + St. George's church. Between the two, however, he did make a success of + it. + </p> + <p> + After that fortnight, his father was able to go out again. Then Diamond + went to make inquiries about Nanny, and this led to something else. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL + </h2> + <p> + THE first day his father resumed his work, Diamond went with him as usual. + In the afternoon, however, his father, having taken a fare to the + neighbourhood, went home, and Diamond drove the cab the rest of the day. + It was hard for old Diamond to do all the work, but they could not afford + to have another horse. They contrived to save him as much as possible, and + fed him well, and he did bravely. + </p> + <p> + The next morning his father was so much stronger that Diamond thought he + might go and ask Mr. Raymond to take him to see Nanny. He found him at + home. His servant had grown friendly by this time, and showed him in + without any cross-questioning. Mr. Raymond received him with his usual + kindness, consented at once, and walked with him to the Hospital, which + was close at hand. It was a comfortable old-fashioned house, built in the + reign of Queen Anne, and in her day, no doubt, inhabited by rich and + fashionable people: now it was a home for poor sick children, who were + carefully tended for love's sake. There are regions in London where a + hospital in every other street might be full of such children, whose + fathers and mothers are dead, or unable to take care of them. + </p> + <p> + When Diamond followed Mr. Raymond into the room where those children who + had got over the worst of their illness and were growing better lay, he + saw a number of little iron bedsteads, with their heads to the walls, and + in every one of them a child, whose face was a story in itself. In some, + health had begun to appear in a tinge upon the cheeks, and a doubtful + brightness in the eyes, just as out of the cold dreary winter the spring + comes in blushing buds and bright crocuses. In others there were more of + the signs of winter left. Their faces reminded you of snow and keen + cutting winds, more than of sunshine and soft breezes and butterflies; but + even in them the signs of suffering told that the suffering was less, and + that if the spring-time had but arrived, it had yet arrived. + </p> + <p> + Diamond looked all round, but could see no Nanny. He turned to Mr. Raymond + with a question in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “Nanny's not here,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see her.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, though. There she is.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to a bed right in front of where Diamond was standing. + </p> + <p> + “That's not Nanny,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It is Nanny. I have seen her many times since you have. Illness makes a + great difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that girl must have been to the back of the north wind!” thought + Diamond, but he said nothing, only stared; and as he stared, something of + the old Nanny began to dawn through the face of the new Nanny. The old + Nanny, though a good girl, and a friendly girl, had been rough, blunt in + her speech, and dirty in her person. Her face would always have reminded + one who had already been to the back of the north wind of something he had + seen in the best of company, but it had been coarse notwithstanding, + partly from the weather, partly from her living amongst low people, and + partly from having to defend herself: now it was so sweet, and gentle, and + refined, that she might have had a lady and gentleman for a father and + mother. And Diamond could not help thinking of words which he had heard in + the church the day before: “Surely it is good to be afflicted;” or + something like that. North Wind, somehow or other, must have had to do + with her! She had grown from a rough girl into a gentle maiden. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Raymond, however, was not surprised, for he was used to see such + lovely changes—something like the change which passes upon the + crawling, many-footed creature, when it turns sick and ill, and revives a + butterfly, with two wings instead of many feet. Instead of her having to + take care of herself, kind hands ministered to her, making her comfortable + and sweet and clean, soothing her aching head, and giving her cooling + drink when she was thirsty; and kind eyes, the stars of the kingdom of + heaven, had shone upon her; so that, what with the fire of the fever and + the dew of tenderness, that which was coarse in her had melted away, and + her whole face had grown so refined and sweet that Diamond did not know + her. But as he gazed, the best of the old face, all the true and good part + of it, that which was Nanny herself, dawned upon him, like the moon coming + out of a cloud, until at length, instead of only believing Mr. Raymond + that this was she, he saw for himself that it was Nanny indeed—very + worn but grown beautiful. + </p> + <p> + He went up to her. She smiled. He had heard her laugh, but had never seen + her smile before. + </p> + <p> + “Nanny, do you know me?” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + She only smiled again, as if the question was amusing. + </p> + <p> + She was not likely to forget him; for although she did not yet know it was + he who had got her there, she had dreamed of him often, and had talked + much about him when delirious. Nor was it much wonder, for he was the only + boy except Joe who had ever shown her kindness. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Mr. Raymond was going from bed to bed, talking to the little + people. Every one knew him, and every one was eager to have a look, and a + smile, and a kind word from him. + </p> + <p> + Diamond sat down on a stool at the head of Nanny's bed. She laid her hand + in his. No one else of her old acquaintance had been near her. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a little voice called aloud— + </p> + <p> + “Won't Mr. Raymond tell us a story?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, please do! please do!” cried several little voices which also + were stronger than the rest. For Mr. Raymond was in the habit of telling + them a story when he went to see them, and they enjoyed it far more than + the other nice things which the doctor permitted him to give them. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Mr. Raymond, “I will. What sort of a story shall it be?” + </p> + <p> + “A true story,” said one little girl. + </p> + <p> + “A fairy tale,” said a little boy. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Raymond, “I suppose, as there is a difference, I may + choose. I can't think of any true story just at this moment, so I will + tell you a sort of a fairy one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, jolly!” exclaimed the little boy who had called out for a fairy tale. + </p> + <p> + “It came into my head this morning as I got out of bed,” continued Mr. + Raymond; “and if it turns out pretty well, I will write it down, and get + somebody to print it for me, and then you shall read it when you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Then nobody ever heard it before?” asked one older child. + </p> + <p> + “No, nobody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed several, thinking it very grand to have the first telling; + and I daresay there might be a peculiar freshness about it, because + everything would be nearly as new to the story-teller himself as to the + listeners. + </p> + <p> + Some were only sitting up and some were lying down, so there could not be + the same busy gathering, bustling, and shifting to and fro with which + children generally prepare themselves to hear a story; but their faces, + and the turning of their heads, and many feeble exclamations of expected + pleasure, showed that all such preparations were making within them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Raymond stood in the middle of the room, that he might turn from side + to side, and give each a share of seeing him. Diamond kept his place by + Nanny's side, with her hand in his. I do not know how much of Mr. + Raymond's story the smaller children understood; indeed, I don't quite + know how much there was in it to be understood, for in such a story every + one has just to take what he can get. But they all listened with apparent + satisfaction, and certainly with great attention. Mr. Raymond wrote it + down afterwards, and here it is—somewhat altered no doubt, for a + good story-teller tries to make his stories better every time he tells + them. I cannot myself help thinking that he was somewhat indebted for this + one to the old story of The Sleeping Beauty. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. LITTLE DAYLIGHT + </h2> + <p> + NO HOUSE of any pretension to be called a palace is in the least worthy of + the name, except it has a wood near it—very near it—and the + nearer the better. Not all round it—I don't mean that, for a palace + ought to be open to the sun and wind, and stand high and brave, with + weathercocks glittering and flags flying; but on one side of every palace + there must be a wood. And there was a very grand wood indeed beside the + palace of the king who was going to be Daylight's father; such a grand + wood, that nobody yet had ever got to the other end of it. Near the house + it was kept very trim and nice, and it was free of brushwood for a long + way in; but by degrees it got wild, and it grew wilder, and wilder, and + wilder, until some said wild beasts at last did what they liked in it. The + king and his courtiers often hunted, however, and this kept the wild + beasts far away from the palace. + </p> + <p> + One glorious summer morning, when the wind and sun were out together, when + the vanes were flashing and the flags frolicking against the blue sky, + little Daylight made her appearance from somewhere—nobody could tell + where—a beautiful baby, with such bright eyes that she might have + come from the sun, only by and by she showed such lively ways that she + might equally well have come out of the wind. There was great jubilation + in the palace, for this was the first baby the queen had had, and there is + as much happiness over a new baby in a palace as in a cottage. + </p> + <p> + But there is one disadvantage of living near a wood: you do not know quite + who your neighbours may be. Everybody knew there were in it several + fairies, living within a few miles of the palace, who always had had + something to do with each new baby that came; for fairies live so much + longer than we, that they can have business with a good many generations + of human mortals. The curious houses they lived in were well known also,—one, + a hollow oak; another, a birch-tree, though nobody could ever find how + that fairy made a house of it; another, a hut of growing trees + intertwined, and patched up with turf and moss. But there was another + fairy who had lately come to the place, and nobody even knew she was a + fairy except the other fairies. A wicked old thing she was, always + concealing her power, and being as disagreeable as she could, in order to + tempt people to give her offence, that she might have the pleasure of + taking vengeance upon them. The people about thought she was a witch, and + those who knew her by sight were careful to avoid offending her. She lived + in a mud house, in a swampy part of the forest. + </p> + <p> + In all history we find that fairies give their remarkable gifts to prince + or princess, or any child of sufficient importance in their eyes, always + at the christening. Now this we can understand, because it is an ancient + custom amongst human beings as well; and it is not hard to explain why + wicked fairies should choose the same time to do unkind things; but it is + difficult to understand how they should be able to do them, for you would + fancy all wicked creatures would be powerless on such an occasion. But I + never knew of any interference on the part of the wicked fairy that did + not turn out a good thing in the end. What a good thing, for instance, it + was that one princess should sleep for a hundred years! Was she not saved + from all the plague of young men who were not worthy of her? And did she + not come awake exactly at the right moment when the right prince kissed + her? For my part, I cannot help wishing a good many girls would sleep till + just the same fate overtook them. It would be happier for them, and more + agreeable to their friends. + </p> + <p> + Of course all the known fairies were invited to the christening. But the + king and queen never thought of inviting an old witch. + </p> + <p> + For the power of the fairies they have by nature; whereas a witch gets her + power by wickedness. The other fairies, however, knowing the danger thus + run, provided as well as they could against accidents from her quarter. + But they could neither render her powerless, nor could they arrange their + gifts in reference to hers beforehand, for they could not tell what those + might be. + </p> + <p> + Of course the old hag was there without being asked. Not to be asked was + just what she wanted, that she might have a sort of reason for doing what + she wished to do. For somehow even the wickedest of creatures likes a + pretext for doing the wrong thing. + </p> + <p> + Five fairies had one after the other given the child such gifts as each + counted best, and the fifth had just stepped back to her place in the + surrounding splendour of ladies and gentlemen, when, mumbling a laugh + between her toothless gums, the wicked fairy hobbled out into the middle + of the circle, and at the moment when the archbishop was handing the baby + to the lady at the head of the nursery department of state affairs, + addressed him thus, giving a bite or two to every word before she could + part with it: + </p> + <p> + “Please your Grace, I'm very deaf: would your Grace mind repeating the + princess's name?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, my good woman,” said the archbishop, stooping to shout in + her ear: “the infant's name is little Daylight.” + </p> + <p> + “And little daylight it shall be,” cried the fairy, in the tone of a dry + axle, “and little good shall any of her gifts do her. For I bestow upon + her the gift of sleeping all day long, whether she will or not. Ha, ha! + He, he! Hi, hi!” + </p> + <p> + Then out started the sixth fairy, who, of course, the others had arranged + should come after the wicked one, in order to undo as much as she might. + </p> + <p> + “If she sleep all day,” she said, mournfully, “she shall, at least, wake + all night.” + </p> + <p> + “A nice prospect for her mother and me!” thought the poor king; for they + loved her far too much to give her up to nurses, especially at night, as + most kings and queens do—and are sorry for it afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “You spoke before I had done,” said the wicked fairy. “That's against the + law. It gives me another chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said the other fairies, all together. + </p> + <p> + “She did. I hadn't done laughing,” said the crone. “I had only got to Hi, + hi! and I had to go through Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! So I decree that if she + wakes all night she shall wax and wane with its mistress, the moon. And + what that may mean I hope her royal parents will live to see. Ho, ho! Hu, + hu!” + </p> + <p> + But out stepped another fairy, for they had been wise enough to keep two + in reserve, because every fairy knew the trick of one. + </p> + <p> + “Until,” said the seventh fairy, “a prince comes who shall kiss her + without knowing it.” + </p> + <p> + The wicked fairy made a horrid noise like an angry cat, and hobbled away. + She could not pretend that she had not finished her speech this time, for + she had laughed Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what that means,” said the poor king to the seventh fairy. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be afraid. The meaning will come with the thing itself,” said she. + </p> + <p> + The assembly broke up, miserable enough—the queen, at least, + prepared for a good many sleepless nights, and the lady at the head of the + nursery department anything but comfortable in the prospect before her, + for of course the queen could not do it all. As for the king, he made up + his mind, with what courage he could summon, to meet the demands of the + case, but wondered whether he could with any propriety require the First + Lord of the Treasury to take a share in the burden laid upon him. + </p> + <p> + I will not attempt to describe what they had to go through for some time. + But at last the household settled into a regular system—a very + irregular one in some respects. For at certain seasons the palace rang all + night with bursts of laughter from little Daylight, whose heart the old + fairy's curse could not reach; she was Daylight still, only a little in + the wrong place, for she always dropped asleep at the first hint of dawn + in the east. But her merriment was of short duration. When the moon was at + the full, she was in glorious spirits, and as beautiful as it was possible + for a child of her age to be. But as the moon waned, she faded, until at + last she was wan and withered like the poorest, sickliest child you might + come upon in the streets of a great city in the arms of a homeless mother. + Then the night was quiet as the day, for the little creature lay in her + gorgeous cradle night and day with hardly a motion, and indeed at last + without even a moan, like one dead. At first they often thought she was + dead, but at last they got used to it, and only consulted the almanac to + find the moment when she would begin to revive, which, of course, was with + the first appearance of the silver thread of the crescent moon. Then she + would move her lips, and they would give her a little nourishment; and she + would grow better and better and better, until for a few days she was + splendidly well. When well, she was always merriest out in the moonlight; + but even when near her worst, she seemed better when, in warm summer + nights, they carried her cradle out into the light of the waning moon. + Then in her sleep she would smile the faintest, most pitiful smile. + </p> + <p> + For a long time very few people ever saw her awake. As she grew older she + became such a favourite, however, that about the palace there were always + some who would contrive to keep awake at night, in order to be near her. + But she soon began to take every chance of getting away from her nurses + and enjoying her moonlight alone. And thus things went on until she was + nearly seventeen years of age. Her father and mother had by that time got + so used to the odd state of things that they had ceased to wonder at them. + All their arrangements had reference to the state of the Princess + Daylight, and it is amazing how things contrive to accommodate themselves. + But how any prince was ever to find and deliver her, appeared + inconceivable. + </p> + <p> + As she grew older she had grown more and more beautiful, with the sunniest + hair and the loveliest eyes of heavenly blue, brilliant and profound as + the sky of a June day. But so much more painful and sad was the change as + her bad time came on. The more beautiful she was in the full moon, the + more withered and worn did she become as the moon waned. At the time at + which my story has now arrived, she looked, when the moon was small or + gone, like an old woman exhausted with suffering. This was the more + painful that her appearance was unnatural; for her hair and eyes did not + change. Her wan face was both drawn and wrinkled, and had an eager hungry + look. Her skinny hands moved as if wishing, but unable, to lay hold of + something. Her shoulders were bent forward, her chest went in, and she + stooped as if she were eighty years old. At last she had to be put to bed, + and there await the flow of the tide of life. But she grew to dislike + being seen, still more being touched by any hands, during this season. One + lovely summer evening, when the moon lay all but gone upon the verge of + the horizon, she vanished from her attendants, and it was only after + searching for her a long time in great terror, that they found her fast + asleep in the forest, at the foot of a silver birch, and carried her home. + </p> + <p> + A little way from the palace there was a great open glade, covered with + the greenest and softest grass. This was her favourite haunt; for here the + full moon shone free and glorious, while through a vista in the trees she + could generally see more or less of the dying moon as it crossed the + opening. Here she had a little rustic house built for her, and here she + mostly resided. None of the court might go there without leave, and her + own attendants had learned by this time not to be officious in waiting + upon her, so that she was very much at liberty. Whether the good fairies + had anything to do with it or not I cannot tell, but at last she got into + the way of retreating further into the wood every night as the moon waned, + so that sometimes they had great trouble in finding her; but as she was + always very angry if she discovered they were watching her, they scarcely + dared to do so. At length one night they thought they had lost her + altogether. It was morning before they found her. Feeble as she was, she + had wandered into a thicket a long way from the glade, and there she lay—fast + asleep, of course. + </p> + <p> + Although the fame of her beauty and sweetness had gone abroad, yet as + everybody knew she was under a bad spell, no king in the neighbourhood had + any desire to have her for a daughter-in-law. There were serious + objections to such a relation. + </p> + <p> + About this time in a neighbouring kingdom, in consequence of the + wickedness of the nobles, an insurrection took place upon the death of the + old king, the greater part of the nobility was massacred, and the young + prince was compelled to flee for his life, disguised like a peasant. For + some time, until he got out of the country, he suffered much from hunger + and fatigue; but when he got into that ruled by the princess's father, and + had no longer any fear of being recognised, he fared better, for the + people were kind. He did not abandon his disguise, however. One tolerable + reason was that he had no other clothes to put on, and another that he had + very little money, and did not know where to get any more. There was no + good in telling everybody he met that he was a prince, for he felt that a + prince ought to be able to get on like other people, else his rank only + made a fool of him. He had read of princes setting out upon adventure; and + here he was out in similar case, only without having had a choice in the + matter. He would go on, and see what would come of it. + </p> + <p> + For a day or two he had been walking through the palace-wood, and had had + next to nothing to eat, when he came upon the strangest little house, + inhabited by a very nice, tidy, motherly old woman. This was one of the + good fairies. The moment she saw him she knew quite well who he was and + what was going to come of it; but she was not at liberty to interfere with + the orderly march of events. She received him with the kindness she would + have shown to any other traveller, and gave him bread and milk, which he + thought the most delicious food he had ever tasted, wondering that they + did not have it for dinner at the palace sometimes. The old woman pressed + him to stay all night. When he awoke he was amazed to find how well and + strong he felt. She would not take any of the money he offered, but begged + him, if he found occasion of continuing in the neighbourhood, to return + and occupy the same quarters. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you much, good mother,” answered the prince; “but there is little + chance of that. The sooner I get out of this wood the better.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said the fairy. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how should I know?” returned she. + </p> + <p> + “I can't tell,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the fairy. + </p> + <p> + “How strangely you talk!” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Do I?” said the fairy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the fairy. + </p> + <p> + The prince was not used to be spoken to in this fashion, so he felt a + little angry, and turned and walked away. But this did not offend the + fairy. She stood at the door of her little house looking after him till + the trees hid him quite. Then she said “At last!” and went in. + </p> + <p> + The prince wandered and wandered, and got nowhere. The sun sank and sank + and went out of sight, and he seemed no nearer the end of the wood than + ever. He sat down on a fallen tree, ate a bit of bread the old woman had + given him, and waited for the moon; for, although he was not much of an + astronomer, he knew the moon would rise some time, because she had risen + the night before. Up she came, slow and slow, but of a good size, pretty + nearly round indeed; whereupon, greatly refreshed with his piece of bread, + he got up and went—he knew not whither. + </p> + <p> + After walking a considerable distance, he thought he was coming to the + outside of the forest; but when he reached what he thought the last of it, + he found himself only upon the edge of a great open space in it, covered + with grass. The moon shone very bright, and he thought he had never seen a + more lovely spot. Still it looked dreary because of its loneliness, for he + could not see the house at the other side. He sat down, weary again, and + gazed into the glade. He had not seen so much room for several days. + </p> + <p> + All at once he spied something in the middle of the grass. What could it + be? It moved; it came nearer. Was it a human creature, gliding across—a + girl dressed in white, gleaming in the moonshine? She came nearer and + nearer. He crept behind a tree and watched, wondering. It must be some + strange being of the wood—a nymph whom the moonlight and the warm + dusky air had enticed from her tree. But when she came close to where he + stood, he no longer doubted she was human—for he had caught sight of + her sunny hair, and her clear blue eyes, and the loveliest face and form + that he had ever seen. All at once she began singing like a nightingale, + and dancing to her own music, with her eyes ever turned towards the moon. + She passed close to where he stood, dancing on by the edge of the trees + and away in a great circle towards the other side, until he could see but + a spot of white in the yellowish green of the moonlit grass. But when he + feared it would vanish quite, the spot grew, and became a figure once + more. She approached him again, singing and dancing, and waving her arms + over her head, until she had completed the circle. Just opposite his tree + she stood, ceased her song, dropped her arms, and broke out into a long + clear laugh, musical as a brook. Then, as if tired, she threw herself on + the grass, and lay gazing at the moon. The prince was almost afraid to + breathe lest he should startle her, and she should vanish from his sight. + As to venturing near her, that never came into his head. + </p> + <p> + She had lain for a long hour or longer, when the prince began again to + doubt concerning her. Perhaps she was but a vision of his own fancy. Or + was she a spirit of the wood, after all? If so, he too would haunt the + wood, glad to have lost kingdom and everything for the hope of being near + her. He would build him a hut in the forest, and there he would live for + the pure chance of seeing her again. Upon nights like this at least she + would come out and bask in the moonlight, and make his soul blessed. But + while he thus dreamed she sprang to her feet, turned her face full to the + moon, and began singing as she would draw her down from the sky by the + power of her entrancing voice. She looked more beautiful than ever. Again + she began dancing to her own music, and danced away into the distance. + Once more she returned in a similar manner; but although he was watching + as eagerly as before, what with fatigue and what with gazing, he fell fast + asleep before she came near him. When he awoke it was broad daylight, and + the princess was nowhere. + </p> + <p> + He could not leave the place. What if she should come the next night! He + would gladly endure a day's hunger to see her yet again: he would buckle + his belt quite tight. He walked round the glade to see if he could + discover any prints of her feet. But the grass was so short, and her steps + had been so light, that she had not left a single trace behind her. He + walked half-way round the wood without seeing anything to account for her + presence. Then he spied a lovely little house, with thatched roof and low + eaves, surrounded by an exquisite garden, with doves and peacocks walking + in it. Of course this must be where the gracious lady who loved the + moonlight lived. Forgetting his appearance, he walked towards the door, + determined to make inquiries, but as he passed a little pond full of gold + and silver fishes, he caught sight of himself and turned to find the door + to the kitchen. There he knocked, and asked for a piece of bread. The + good-natured cook brought him in, and gave him an excellent breakfast, + which the prince found nothing the worse for being served in the kitchen. + While he ate, he talked with his entertainer, and learned that this was + the favourite retreat of the Princess Daylight. But he learned nothing + more, both because he was afraid of seeming inquisitive, and because the + cook did not choose to be heard talking about her mistress to a peasant + lad who had begged for his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + As he rose to take his leave, it occurred to him that he might not be so + far from the old woman's cottage as he had thought, and he asked the cook + whether she knew anything of such a place, describing it as well as he + could. She said she knew it well enough, adding with a smile— + </p> + <p> + “It's there you're going, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if it's not far off.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not more than three miles. But mind what you are about, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that?” + </p> + <p> + “If you're after any mischief, she'll make you repent it.” + </p> + <p> + “The best thing that could happen under the circumstances,” remarked the + prince. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” asked the cook. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it stands to reason,” answered the prince “that if you wish to do + anything wrong, the best thing for you is to be made to repent of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said the cook. “Well, I think you may venture. She's a good old + soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Which way does it lie from here?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + She gave him full instructions; and he left her with many thanks. + </p> + <p> + Being now refreshed, however, the prince did not go back to the cottage + that day: he remained in the forest, amusing himself as best he could, but + waiting anxiously for the night, in the hope that the princess would again + appear. Nor was he disappointed, for, directly the moon rose, he spied a + glimmering shape far across the glade. As it drew nearer, he saw it was + she indeed—not dressed in white as before: in a pale blue like the + sky, she looked lovelier still. He thought it was that the blue suited her + yet better than the white; he did not know that she was really more + beautiful because the moon was nearer the full. In fact the next night was + full moon, and the princess would then be at the zenith of her loveliness. + </p> + <p> + The prince feared for some time that she was not coming near his + hiding-place that night; but the circles in her dance ever widened as the + moon rose, until at last they embraced the whole glade, and she came still + closer to the trees where he was hiding than she had come the night + before. He was entranced with her loveliness, for it was indeed a + marvellous thing. All night long he watched her, but dared not go near + her. He would have been ashamed of watching her too, had he not become + almost incapable of thinking of anything but how beautiful she was. He + watched the whole night long, and saw that as the moon went down she + retreated in smaller and smaller circles, until at last he could see her + no more. + </p> + <p> + Weary as he was, he set out for the old woman's cottage, where he arrived + just in time for her breakfast, which she shared with him. He then went to + bed, and slept for many hours. When he awoke the sun was down, and he + departed in great anxiety lest he should lose a glimpse of the lovely + vision. But, whether it was by the machinations of the swamp-fairy, or + merely that it is one thing to go and another to return by the same road, + he lost his way. I shall not attempt to describe his misery when the moon + rose, and he saw nothing but trees, trees, trees. + </p> + <p> + She was high in the heavens before he reached the glade. Then indeed his + troubles vanished, for there was the princess coming dancing towards him, + in a dress that shone like gold, and with shoes that glimmered through the + grass like fireflies. She was of course still more beautiful than before. + Like an embodied sunbeam she passed him, and danced away into the + distance. + </p> + <p> + Before she returned in her circle, the clouds had begun to gather about + the moon. The wind rose, the trees moaned, and their lighter branches + leaned all one way before it. The prince feared that the princess would go + in, and he should see her no more that night. But she came dancing on more + jubilant than ever, her golden dress and her sunny hair streaming out upon + the blast, waving her arms towards the moon, and in the exuberance of her + delight ordering the clouds away from off her face. The prince could + hardly believe she was not a creature of the elements, after all. + </p> + <p> + By the time she had completed another circle, the clouds had gathered + deep, and there were growlings of distant thunder. Just as she passed the + tree where he stood, a flash of lightning blinded him for a moment, and + when he saw again, to his horror, the princess lay on the ground. He + darted to her, thinking she had been struck; but when she heard him + coming, she was on her feet in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. I thought—the lightning” said the prince, + hesitating. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing the matter,” said the princess, waving him off rather + haughtily. + </p> + <p> + The poor prince turned and walked towards the wood. + </p> + <p> + “Come back,” said Daylight: “I like you. You do what you are told. Are you + good?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so good as I should like to be,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Then go and grow better,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + Again the disappointed prince turned and went. + </p> + <p> + “Come back,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + He obeyed, and stood before her waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me what the sun is like?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. “But where's the good of asking what you know?” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't know,” she rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Why, everybody knows.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the very thing: I'm not everybody. I've never seen the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you can't know what it's like till you do see it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you must be a prince,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “Do I look like one?” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “I can't quite say that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you both do what you are told and speak the truth.—Is the + sun so very bright?” + </p> + <p> + “As bright as the lightning.” + </p> + <p> + “But it doesn't go out like that, does it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. It shines like the moon, rises and sets like the moon, is much + the same shape as the moon, only so bright that you can't look at it for a + moment.” + </p> + <p> + “But I would look at it,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “But you couldn't,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “But I could,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Why can't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I can't wake. And I never shall wake until——” + </p> + <p> + Here she hid her face in her hands, turned away, and walked in the + slowest, stateliest manner towards the house. The prince ventured to + follow her at a little distance, but she turned and made a repellent + gesture, which, like a true gentleman-prince, he obeyed at once. He waited + a long time, but as she did not come near him again, and as the night had + now cleared, he set off at last for the old woman's cottage. + </p> + <p> + It was long past midnight when he reached it, but, to his surprise, the + old woman was paring potatoes at the door. Fairies are fond of doing odd + things. Indeed, however they may dissemble, the night is always their day. + And so it is with all who have fairy blood in them. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what are you doing there, this time of the night, mother?” said the + prince; for that was the kind way in which any young man in his country + would address a woman who was much older than himself. + </p> + <p> + “Getting your supper ready, my son,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't want any supper,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you've seen Daylight,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen a princess who never saw it,” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like her?” asked the fairy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! don't I?” said the prince. “More than you would believe, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “A fairy can believe anything that ever was or ever could be,” said the + old woman. + </p> + <p> + “Then are you a fairy?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Then what do you do for things not to believe?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “There's plenty of them—everything that never was nor ever could + be.” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty, I grant you,” said the prince. “But do you believe there could be + a princess who never saw the daylight? Do you believe that now?” + </p> + <p> + This the prince said, not that he doubted the princess, but that he wanted + the fairy to tell him more. She was too old a fairy, however, to be caught + so easily. + </p> + <p> + “Of all people, fairies must not tell secrets. Besides, she's a princess.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you a secret. I'm a prince.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know it?” + </p> + <p> + “By the curl of the third eyelash on your left eyelid.” + </p> + <p> + “Which corner do you count from?” + </p> + <p> + “That's a secret.” + </p> + <p> + “Another secret? Well, at least, if I am a prince, there can be no harm in + telling me about a princess.” + </p> + <p> + “It's just the princes I can't tell.” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any more of them—are there?” said the prince. + </p> + <p> + “What! you don't think you're the only prince in the world, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no! not at all. But I know there's one too many just at + present, except the princess——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, that's it,” said the fairy. + </p> + <p> + “What's it?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + But he could get nothing more out of the fairy, and had to go to bed + unanswered, which was something of a trial. + </p> + <p> + Now wicked fairies will not be bound by the law which the good fairies + obey, and this always seems to give the bad the advantage over the good, + for they use means to gain their ends which the others will not. But it is + all of no consequence, for what they do never succeeds; nay, in the end it + brings about the very thing they are trying to prevent. So you see that + somehow, for all their cleverness, wicked fairies are dreadfully stupid, + for, although from the beginning of the world they have really helped + instead of thwarting the good fairies, not one of them is a bit wiser for + it. She will try the bad thing just as they all did before her; and + succeeds no better of course. + </p> + <p> + The prince had so far stolen a march upon the swamp-fairy that she did not + know he was in the neighbourhood until after he had seen the princess + those three times. When she knew it, she consoled herself by thinking that + the princess must be far too proud and too modest for any young man to + venture even to speak to her before he had seen her six times at least. + But there was even less danger than the wicked fairy thought; for, however + much the princess might desire to be set free, she was dreadfully afraid + of the wrong prince. Now, however, the fairy was going to do all she + could. + </p> + <p> + She so contrived it by her deceitful spells, that the next night the + prince could not by any endeavour find his way to the glade. It would take + me too long to tell her tricks. They would be amusing to us, who know that + they could not do any harm, but they were something other than amusing to + the poor prince. He wandered about the forest till daylight, and then fell + fast asleep. The same thing occurred for seven following days, during + which neither could he find the good fairy's cottage. After the third + quarter of the moon, however, the bad fairy thought she might be at ease + about the affair for a fortnight at least, for there was no chance of the + prince wishing to kiss the princess during that period. So the first day + of the fourth quarter he did find the cottage, and the next day he found + the glade. For nearly another week he haunted it. But the princess never + came. I have little doubt she was on the farther edge of it some part of + every night, but at this period she always wore black, and, there being + little or no light, the prince never saw her. Nor would he have known her + if he had seen her. How could he have taken the worn decrepit creature she + was now, for the glorious Princess Daylight? + </p> + <p> + At last, one night when there was no moon at all, he ventured near the + house. There he heard voices talking, although it was past midnight; for + her women were in considerable uneasiness, because the one whose turn it + was to watch her had fallen asleep, and had not seen which way she went, + and this was a night when she would probably wander very far, describing a + circle which did not touch the open glade at all, but stretched away from + the back of the house, deep into that side of the forest—a part of + which the prince knew nothing. When he understood from what they said that + she had disappeared, and that she must have gone somewhere in the said + direction, he plunged at once into the wood to see if he could find her. + For hours he roamed with nothing to guide him but the vague notion of a + circle which on one side bordered on the house, for so much had he picked + up from the talk he had overheard. + </p> + <p> + It was getting towards the dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light + in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary at the + foot of it. While he sat—very miserable, you may be sure—full + of fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants could take it + so quietly, he bethought himself that it would not be a bad plan to light + a fire, which, if she were anywhere near, would attract her. This he + managed with a tinder-box, which the good fairy had given him. It was just + beginning to blaze up, when he heard a moan, which seemed to come from the + other side of the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart throbbed so + that he had to lean for a moment against the tree before he could move. + When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark heap on the + earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it was not the + princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier than a child, and + carried it to the flame. The countenance was that of an old woman, but it + had a fearfully strange look. A black hood concealed her hair, and her + eyes were closed. He laid her down as comfortably as he could, chafed her + hands, put a little cordial from a bottle, also the gift of the fairy, + into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it about her, and in short + did the best he could. In a little while she opened her eyes and looked at + him—so pitifully! The tears rose and flowed from her grey wrinkled + cheeks, but she said never a word. She closed her eyes again, but the + tears kept on flowing, and her whole appearance was so utterly pitiful + that the prince was near crying too. He begged her to tell him what was + the matter, promising to do all he could to help her; but still she did + not speak. He thought she was dying, and took her in his arms again to + carry her to the princess's house, where he thought the good-natured cook + might be able to do something for her. When he lifted her, the tears + flowed yet faster, and she gave such a sad moan that it went to his very + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, mother!” he said. “Poor mother!” and kissed her on the withered + lips. + </p> + <p> + She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him! But he did not + see them, for it was still very dark, and he had enough to do to make his + way through the trees towards the house. + </p> + <p> + Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could have + imagined possible—she was such a little thin old thing—she + began to move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her a moment + longer, he thought to lay her on the grass. But she stood upright on her + feet. Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her. The first gleam + of the morning was caught on her face: that face was bright as the + never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the sky of darkest blue. The + prince recoiled in overmastering wonder. It was Daylight herself whom he + had brought from the forest! He fell at her feet, nor dared to look up + until she laid her hand upon his head. He rose then. + </p> + <p> + “You kissed me when I was an old woman: there! I kiss you when I am a + young princess,” murmured Daylight.—“Is that the sun coming?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. RUBY + </h2> + <p> + THE children were delighted with the story, and made many amusing remarks + upon it. Mr. Raymond promised to search his brain for another, and when he + had found one to bring it to them. Diamond having taken leave of Nanny, + and promised to go and see her again soon, went away with him. + </p> + <p> + Now Mr. Raymond had been turning over in his mind what he could do both + for Diamond and for Nanny. He had therefore made some acquaintance with + Diamond's father, and had been greatly pleased with him. But he had come + to the resolution, before he did anything so good as he would like to do + for them, to put them all to a certain test. So as they walked away + together, he began to talk with Diamond as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Nanny must leave the hospital soon, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad of that, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Don't you think it's a nice place?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, very. But it's better to be well and doing something, you know, even + if it's not quite so comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “But they can't keep Nanny so long as they would like. They can't keep her + till she's quite strong. There are always so many sick children they want + to take in and make better. And the question is, What will she do when + they send her out again?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I can't tell, though I've been thinking of it over and + over, sir. Her crossing was taken long ago, and I couldn't bear to see + Nanny fighting for it, especially with such a poor fellow as has taken it. + He's quite lame, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't look much like fighting, now, does she, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. She looks too like an angel. Angels don't fight—do they, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to get things for themselves, at least,” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” added Diamond, “I don't quite see that she would have any + better right to the crossing than the boy who has got it. Nobody gave it + to her; she only took it. And now he has taken it.” + </p> + <p> + “If she were to sweep a crossing—soon at least—after the + illness she has had, she would be laid up again the very first wet day,” + said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “And there's hardly any money to be got except on the wet days,” remarked + Diamond reflectively. “Is there nothing else she could do, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Not without being taught, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, couldn't somebody teach her something?” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you teach her, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know anything myself, sir. I could teach her to dress the baby; + but nobody would give her anything for doing things like that: they are so + easy. There wouldn't be much good in teaching her to drive a cab, for + where would she get the cab to drive? There ain't fathers and old Diamonds + everywhere. At least poor Nanny can't find any of them, I doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps if she were taught to be nice and clean, and only speak gentle + words.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother could teach her that,” interrupted Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “And to dress babies, and feed them, and take care of them,” Mr. Raymond + proceeded, “she might get a place as a nurse somewhere, you know. People + do give money for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll ask mother,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “But you'll have to give her her food then; and your father, not being + strong, has enough to do already without that.” + </p> + <p> + “But here's me,” said Diamond: “I help him out with it. When he's tired of + driving, up I get. It don't make any difference to old Diamond. I don't + mean he likes me as well as my father—of course he can't, you know—nobody + could; but he does his duty all the same. It's got to be done, you know, + sir; and Diamond's a good horse—isn't he, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “From your description I should say certainly; but I have not the pleasure + of his acquaintance myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think he will go to heaven, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “That I don't know anything about,” said Mr. Raymond. “I confess I should + be glad to think so,” he added, smiling thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure he'll get to the back of the north wind, anyhow,” said Diamond + to himself; but he had learned to be very careful of saying such things + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it rather too much for him to go in the cab all day and every day?” + resumed Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “So father says, when he feels his ribs of a morning. But then he says the + old horse do eat well, and the moment he's had his supper, down he goes, + and never gets up till he's called; and, for the legs of him, father says + that makes no end of a differ. Some horses, sir! they won't lie down all + night long, but go to sleep on their four pins, like a haystack, father + says. I think it's very stupid of them, and so does old Diamond. But then + I suppose they don't know better, and so they can't help it. We mustn't be + too hard upon them, father says.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father must be a good man, Diamond.” Diamond looked up in Mr. + Raymond's face, wondering what he could mean. + </p> + <p> + “I said your father must be a good man, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Diamond. “How could he drive a cab if he wasn't?” + </p> + <p> + “There are some men who drive cabs who are not very good,” objected Mr. + Raymond. + </p> + <p> + Diamond remembered the drunken cabman, and saw that his friend was right. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but,” he returned, “he must be, you know, with such a horse as old + Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “That does make a difference,” said Mr. Raymond. “But it is quite enough + that he is a good man without our trying to account for it. Now, if you + like, I will give you a proof that I think him a good man. I am going away + on the Continent for a while—for three months, I believe—and I + am going to let my house to a gentleman who does not want the use of my + brougham. My horse is nearly as old, I fancy, as your Diamond, but I don't + want to part with him, and I don't want him to be idle; for nobody, as you + say, ought to be idle; but neither do I want him to be worked very hard. + Now, it has come into my head that perhaps your father would take charge + of him, and work him under certain conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “My father will do what's right,” said Diamond. “I'm sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, so I think. Will you ask him when he comes home to call and have a + little chat with me—to-day, some time?” + </p> + <p> + “He must have his dinner first,” said Diamond. “No, he's got his dinner + with him to-day. It must be after he's had his tea.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, of course. Any time will do. I shall be at home all day.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir. I will tell him. You may be sure he will come. My father + thinks you a very kind gentleman, and I know he is right, for I know your + very own self, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Raymond smiled, and as they had now reached his door, they parted, and + Diamond went home. As soon as his father entered the house, Diamond gave + him Mr. Raymond's message, and recounted the conversation that had + preceded it. His father said little, but took thought-sauce to his bread + and butter, and as soon as he had finished his meal, rose, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I will go to your friend directly, Diamond. It would be a grand thing to + get a little more money. We do want it.” Diamond accompanied his father to + Mr. Raymond's door, and there left him. + </p> + <p> + He was shown at once into Mr. Raymond's study, where he gazed with some + wonder at the multitude of books on the walls, and thought what a learned + man Mr. Raymond must be. + </p> + <p> + Presently Mr. Raymond entered, and after saying much the same about his + old horse, made the following distinct proposal—one not + over-advantageous to Diamond's father, but for which he had reasons—namely, + that Joseph should have the use of Mr. Raymond's horse while he was away, + on condition that he never worked him more than six hours a day, and fed + him well, and that, besides, he should take Nanny home as soon as she was + able to leave the hospital, and provide for her as one of his own + children, neither better nor worse—so long, that is, as he had the + horse. + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father could not help thinking it a pretty close bargain. He + should have both the girl and the horse to feed, and only six hours' work + out of the horse. + </p> + <p> + “It will save your own horse,” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” answered Joseph; “but all I can get by my own horse is + only enough to keep us, and if I save him and feed your horse and the girl—don't + you see, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can go home and think about it, and let me know by the end of + the week. I am in no hurry before then.” + </p> + <p> + So Joseph went home and recounted the proposal to his wife, adding that he + did not think there was much advantage to be got out of it. + </p> + <p> + “Not much that way, husband,” said Diamond's mother; “but there would be + an advantage, and what matter who gets it!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see it,” answered her husband. “Mr. Raymond is a gentleman of + property, and I don't discover any much good in helping him to save a + little more. He won't easily get one to make such a bargain, and I don't + mean he shall get me. It would be a loss rather than a gain—I do + think—at least if I took less work out of our own horse.” + </p> + <p> + “One hour would make a difference to old Diamond. But that's not the main + point. You must think what an advantage it would be to the poor girl that + hasn't a home to go to!” + </p> + <p> + “She is one of Diamond's friends,” thought his father. + </p> + <p> + “I could be kind to her, you know,” the mother went on, “and teach her + housework, and how to handle a baby; and, besides, she would help me, and + I should be the stronger for it, and able to do an odd bit of charing now + and then, when I got the chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't hear of that,” said her husband. “Have the girl by all means. I'm + ashamed I did not think of both sides of the thing at once. I wonder if + the horse is a great eater. To be sure, if I gave Diamond two hours' + additional rest, it would be all the better for the old bones of him, and + there would be four hours extra out of the other horse. That would give + Diamond something to do every day. He could drive old Diamond after + dinner, and I could take the other horse out for six hours after tea, or + in the morning, as I found best. It might pay for the keep of both of + them,—that is, if I had good luck. I should like to oblige Mr. + Raymond, though he be rather hard, for he has been very kind to our + Diamond, wife. Hasn't he now?” + </p> + <p> + “He has indeed, Joseph,” said his wife, and there the conversation ended. + </p> + <p> + Diamond's father went the very next day to Mr. Raymond, and accepted his + proposal; so that the week after having got another stall in the same + stable, he had two horses instead of one. Oddly enough, the name of the + new horse was Ruby, for he was a very red chestnut. Diamond's name came + from a white lozenge on his forehead. Young Diamond said they were rich + now, with such a big diamond and such a big ruby. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. NANNY'S DREAM + </h2> + <p> + NANNY was not fit to be moved for some time yet, and Diamond went to see + her as often as he could. But being more regularly engaged now, seeing he + went out every day for a few hours with old Diamond, and had his baby to + mind, and one of the horses to attend to, he could not go so often as he + would have liked. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as he sat by her bedside, she said to him: + </p> + <p> + “I've had such a beautiful dream, Diamond! I should like to tell it you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do,” said Diamond; “I am so fond of dreams!” + </p> + <p> + “She must have been to the back of the north wind,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + “It was a very foolish dream, you know. But somehow it was so pleasant! + What a good thing it is that you believe the dream all the time you are in + it!” + </p> + <p> + My readers must not suppose that poor Nanny was able to say what she meant + so well as I put it down here. She had never been to school, and had heard + very little else than vulgar speech until she came to the hospital. But I + have been to school, and although that could never make me able to dream + so well as Nanny, it has made me able to tell her dream better than she + could herself. And I am the more desirous of doing this for her that I + have already done the best I could for Diamond's dream, and it would be a + shame to give the boy all the advantage. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you all I know about it,” said Nanny. “The day before + yesterday, a lady came to see us—a very beautiful lady, and very + beautifully dressed. I heard the matron say to her that it was very kind + of her to come in blue and gold; and she answered that she knew we didn't + like dull colours. She had such a lovely shawl on, just like redness + dipped in milk, and all worked over with flowers of the same colour. It + didn't shine much, it was silk, but it kept in the shine. When she came to + my bedside, she sat down, just where you are sitting, Diamond, and laid + her hand on the counterpane. I was sitting up, with my table before me + ready for my tea. Her hand looked so pretty in its blue glove, that I was + tempted to stroke it. I thought she wouldn't be angry, for everybody that + comes to the hospital is kind. It's only in the streets they ain't kind. + But she drew her hand away, and I almost cried, for I thought I had been + rude. Instead of that, however, it was only that she didn't like giving me + her glove to stroke, for she drew it off, and then laid her hand where it + was before. I wasn't sure, but I ventured to put out my ugly hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Your hand ain't ugly, Nanny,” said Diamond; but Nanny went on— + </p> + <p> + “And I stroked it again, and then she stroked mine,—think of that! + And there was a ring on her finger, and I looked down to see what it was + like. And she drew it off, and put it upon one of my fingers. It was a red + stone, and she told me they called it a ruby.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is funny!” said Diamond. “Our new horse is called Ruby. We've + got another horse—a red one—such a beauty!” + </p> + <p> + But Nanny went on with her story. + </p> + <p> + “I looked at the ruby all the time the lady was talking to me,—it + was so beautiful! And as she talked I kept seeing deeper and deeper into + the stone. At last she rose to go away, and I began to pull the ring off + my finger; and what do you think she said?—'Wear it all night, if + you like. Only you must take care of it. I can't give it you, for some one + gave it to me; but you may keep it till to-morrow.' Wasn't it kind of her? + I could hardly take my tea, I was so delighted to hear it; and I do think + it was the ring that set me dreaming; for, after I had taken my tea, I + leaned back, half lying and half sitting, and looked at the ring on my + finger. By degrees I began to dream. The ring grew larger and larger, + until at last I found that I was not looking at a red stone, but at a red + sunset, which shone in at the end of a long street near where Grannie + lives. I was dressed in rags as I used to be, and I had great holes in my + shoes, at which the nasty mud came through to my feet. I didn't use to + mind it before, but now I thought it horrid. And there was the great red + sunset, with streaks of green and gold between, standing looking at me. + Why couldn't I live in the sunset instead of in that dirt? Why was it so + far away always? Why did it never come into our wretched street? It faded + away, as the sunsets always do, and at last went out altogether. Then a + cold wind began to blow, and flutter all my rags about——” + </p> + <p> + “That was North Wind herself,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said Nanny, and went on with her story. + </p> + <p> + “I turned my back to it, and wandered away. I did not know where I was + going, only it was warmer to go that way. I don't think it was a north + wind, for I found myself in the west end at last. But it doesn't matter in + a dream which wind it was.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said Diamond. “I believe North Wind can get into our + dreams—yes, and blow in them. Sometimes she has blown me out of a + dream altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean, Diamond,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” answered Diamond. “Two people can't always understand each + other. They'd both be at the back of the north wind directly, and what + would become of the other places without them?” + </p> + <p> + “You do talk so oddly!” said Nanny. “I sometimes think they must have been + right about you.” + </p> + <p> + “What did they say about me?” asked Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “They called you God's baby.” + </p> + <p> + “How kind of them! But I knew that.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you know what it meant, though? It meant that you were not right in + the head.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel all right,” said Diamond, putting both hands to his head, as if it + had been a globe he could take off and set on again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, as long as you are pleased I am pleased,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Nanny. Do go on with your story. I think I like dreams even + better than fairy tales. But they must be nice ones, like yours, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I went on, keeping my back to the wind, until I came to a fine + street on the top of a hill. How it happened I don't know, but the front + door of one of the houses was open, and not only the front door, but the + back door as well, so that I could see right through the house—and + what do you think I saw? A garden place with green grass, and the moon + shining upon it! Think of that! There was no moon in the street, but + through the house there was the moon. I looked and there was nobody near: + I would not do any harm, and the grass was so much nicer than the mud! But + I couldn't think of going on the grass with such dirty shoes: I kicked + them off in the gutter, and ran in on my bare feet, up the steps, and + through the house, and on to the grass; and the moment I came into the + moonlight, I began to feel better.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why North Wind blew you there,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “It came of Mr. Raymond's story about Princess Daylight,” returned Nanny. + “Well, I lay down upon the grass in the moonlight without thinking how I + was to get out again. Somehow the moon suited me exactly. There was not a + breath of the north wind you talk about; it was quite gone.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't want her any more, just then. She never goes where she's not + wanted,” said Diamond. “But she blew you into the moonlight, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we won't dispute about it,” said Nanny: “you've got a tile loose, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I have,” returned Diamond, “don't you see it may let in the + moonlight, or the sunlight for that matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps yes, perhaps no,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “And you've got your dreams, too, Nanny.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I know they're dreams.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I. But I know besides they are something more as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do you?” rejoined Nanny. “I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Diamond. “Perhaps you will some day.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I won't,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + Diamond held his peace, and Nanny resumed her story. + </p> + <p> + “I lay a long time, and the moonlight got in at every tear in my clothes, + and made me feel so happy——” + </p> + <p> + “There, I tell you!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What do you tell me?” returned Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “North Wind——” + </p> + <p> + “It was the moonlight, I tell you,” persisted Nanny, and again Diamond + held his peace. + </p> + <p> + “All at once I felt that the moon was not shining so strong. I looked up, + and there was a cloud, all crapey and fluffy, trying to drown the + beautiful creature. But the moon was so round, just like a whole plate, + that the cloud couldn't stick to her. She shook it off, and said there and + shone out clearer and brighter than ever. But up came a thicker cloud,—and + 'You shan't,' said the moon; and 'I will,' said the cloud,—but it + couldn't: out shone the moon, quite laughing at its impudence. I knew her + ways, for I've always been used to watch her. She's the only thing worth + looking at in our street at night.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't call it your street,” said Diamond. “You're not going back to it. + You're coming to us, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “That's too good to be true,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “There are very few things good enough to be true,” said Diamond; “but I + hope this is. Too good to be true it can't be. Isn't true good? and isn't + good good? And how, then, can anything be too good to be true? That's like + old Sal—to say that.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't abuse Grannie, Diamond. She's a horrid old thing, she and her gin + bottle; but she'll repent some day, and then you'll be glad not to have + said anything against her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Because you'll be sorry for her.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for her now.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. That's right. She'll be sorry too. And there'll be an end of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. You come to us,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Where was I?” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “Telling me how the moon served the clouds.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But it wouldn't do, all of it. Up came the clouds and the clouds, + and they came faster and faster, until the moon was covered up. You + couldn't expect her to throw off a hundred of them at once—could + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “So it grew very dark; and a dog began to yelp in the house. I looked and + saw that the door to the garden was shut. Presently it was opened—not + to let me out, but to let the dog in—yelping and bounding. I thought + if he caught sight of me, I was in for a biting first, and the police + after. So I jumped up, and ran for a little summer-house in the corner of + the garden. The dog came after me, but I shut the door in his face. It was + well it had a door—wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “You dreamed of the door because you wanted it,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't; it came of itself. It was there, in the true dream.” + </p> + <p> + “There—I've caught you!” said Diamond. “I knew you believed in the + dream as much as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, if you will lay traps for a body!” said Nanny. “Anyhow, I was + safe inside the summer-house. And what do you think?—There was the + moon beginning to shine again—but only through one of the panes—and + that one was just the colour of the ruby. Wasn't it funny?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not a bit funny,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “If you will be contrary!” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Diamond; “I only meant that was the very pane I should have + expected her to shine through.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well!” returned Nanny. + </p> + <p> + What Diamond meant, I do not pretend to say. He had curious notions about + things. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Nanny, “I didn't know what to do, for the dog kept barking + at the door, and I couldn't get out. But the moon was so beautiful that I + couldn't keep from looking at it through the red pane. And as I looked it + got larger and larger till it filled the whole pane and outgrew it, so + that I could see it through the other panes; and it grew till it filled + them too and the whole window, so that the summer-house was nearly as + bright as day. + </p> + <p> + “The dog stopped barking, and I heard a gentle tapping at the door, like + the wind blowing a little branch against it.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like her,” said Diamond, who thought everything strange and + beautiful must be done by North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “So I turned from the window and opened the door; and what do you think I + saw?” + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful lady,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No—the moon itself, as big as a little house, and as round as a + ball, shining like yellow silver. It stood on the grass—down on the + very grass: I could see nothing else for the brightness of it: And as I + stared and wondered, a door opened in the side of it, near the ground, and + a curious little old man, with a crooked thing over his shoulder, looked + out, and said: 'Come along, Nanny; my lady wants you. We're come to fetch + you.” I wasn't a bit frightened. I went up to the beautiful bright thing, + and the old man held down his hand, and I took hold of it, and gave a + jump, and he gave me a lift, and I was inside the moon. And what do you + think it was like? It was such a pretty little house, with blue windows + and white curtains! At one of the windows sat a beautiful lady, with her + head leaning on her hand, looking out. She seemed rather sad, and I was + sorry for her, and stood staring at her. + </p> + <p> + “`You didn't think I had such a beautiful mistress as that!' said the + queer little man. `No, indeed!' I answered: `who would have thought it?' + `Ah! who indeed? But you see you don't know everything.' The little man + closed the door, and began to pull at a rope which hung behind it with a + weight at the end. After he had pulled a while, he said—`There, that + will do; we're all right now.' Then he took me by the hand and opened a + little trap in the floor, and led me down two or three steps, and I saw + like a great hole below me. `Don't be frightened,' said the tittle man. + `It's not a hole. It's only a window. Put your face down and look + through.' I did as he told me, and there was the garden and the + summer-house, far away, lying at the bottom of the moonlight. `There!' + said the little man; `we've brought you off! Do you see the little dog + barking at us down there in the garden?' I told him I couldn't see + anything so far. `Can you see anything so small and so far off?' I said. + `Bless you, child!' said the little man; `I could pick up a needle out of + the grass if I had only a long enough arm. There's one lying by the door + of the summer-house now.' I looked at his eyes. They were very small, but + so bright that I think he saw by the light that went out of them. Then he + took me up, and up again by a little stair in a corner of the room, and + through another trapdoor, and there was one great round window above us, + and I saw the blue sky and the clouds, and such lots of stars, all so big + and shining as hard as ever they could!” + </p> + <p> + “The little girl-angels had been polishing them,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense you do talk!” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “But my nonsense is just as good as yours, Nanny. When you have done, I'll + tell you my dream. The stars are in it—not the moon, though. She was + away somewhere. Perhaps she was gone to fetch you then. I don't think + that, though, for my dream was longer ago than yours. She might have been + to fetch some one else, though; for we can't fancy it's only us that get + such fine things done for them. But do tell me what came next.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps one of my child-readers may remember whether the moon came down to + fetch him or her the same night that Diamond had his dream. I cannot tell, + of course. I know she did not come to fetch me, though I did think I could + make her follow me when I was a boy—not a very tiny one either. + </p> + <p> + “The little man took me all round the house, and made me look out of every + window. Oh, it was beautiful! There we were, all up in the air, in such a + nice, clean little house! `Your work will be to keep the windows bright,' + said the little man. `You won't find it very difficult, for there ain't + much dust up here. Only, the frost settles on them sometimes, and the + drops of rain leave marks on them.' `I can easily clean them inside,' I + said; `but how am I to get the frost and rain off the outside of them?' + `Oh!' he said, `it's quite easy. There are ladders all about. You've only + got to go out at the door, and climb about. There are a great many windows + you haven't seen yet, and some of them look into places you don't know + anything about. I used to clean them myself, but I'm getting rather old, + you see. Ain't I now?' `I can't tell,' I answered. `You see I never saw + you when you were younger.' `Never saw the man in the moon?' said he. `Not + very near,' I answered, `not to tell how young or how old he looked. I + have seen the bundle of sticks on his back.' For Jim had pointed that out + to me. Jim was very fond of looking at the man in the moon. Poor Jim! I + wonder he hasn't been to see me. I'm afraid he's ill too.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try to find out,” said Diamond, “and let you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Nanny. “You and Jim ought to be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “But what did the man in the moon say, when you told him you had seen him + with the bundle of sticks on his back?” + </p> + <p> + “He laughed. But I thought he looked offended too. His little nose turned + up sharper, and he drew the corners of his mouth down from the tips of his + ears into his neck. But he didn't look cross, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't he say anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! He said: `That's all nonsense. What you saw was my bundle of + dusters. I was going to clean the windows. It takes a good many, you know. + Really, what they do say of their superiors down there!' `It's only + because they don't know better,' I ventured to say. `Of course, of + course,' said the little man. `Nobody ever does know better. Well, I + forgive them, and that sets it all right, I hope.' `It's very good of + you,' I said. `No!' said he, `it's not in the least good of me. I couldn't + be comfortable otherwise.' After this he said nothing for a while, and I + laid myself on the floor of his garret, and stared up and around at the + great blue beautifulness. I had forgotten him almost, when at last he + said: `Ain't you done yet?' `Done what?' I asked. `Done saying your + prayers,' says he. 'I wasn't saying my prayers,' I answered. `Oh, yes, you + were,' said he, `though you didn't know it! And now I must show you + something else.' + </p> + <p> + “He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through a narrow + passage, and through another, and another, and another. I don't know how + there could be room for so many passages in such a little house. The heart + of it must be ever so much farther from the sides than they are from each + other. How could it have an inside that was so independent of its outside? + There's the point. It was funny—wasn't it, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much the sort + of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked himself and only + added, “All right. I don't see it. I don't see why the inside should + depend on the outside. It ain't so with the crabs. They creep out of their + outsides and make new ones. Mr. Raymond told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see what that has got to do with it,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “Then go on with your story, please,” said Diamond. “What did you come to, + after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the + moon?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long and + narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners.” + </p> + <p> + “That's worth knowing,” remarked Diamond. “For who knows how soon he may + have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?” + </p> + <p> + “We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man + told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something + like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is + it?' I asked. `Don't you know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,' I + answered. `Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never heard + bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's bees,' he + went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers. `But where + are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees gather their honey + from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. `Do let me see them,' I + said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. `I have no business with them. + I don't understand them. Besides, they are so bright that if one were to + fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.' `Then you have seen + them?' `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't quite know: they are + so very bright—like buttons of lightning. Now I've showed you all I + can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' I followed him, and he made + me sit down under a lamp that hung from the roof, and gave me some bread + and honey. + </p> + <p> + “The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her hand, + gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white cloudy + curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I could see + nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very still, and + her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I did not see her + whole face—only the side of it, for she never moved to turn it full + upon me, or even to look at me. + </p> + <p> + “How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. The + little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string + there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking with + some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and clean the + windows, and I didn't fancy the job. At last he came up to me with a great + armful of dusters. `It's time you set about the windows,' he said; `for + there's rain coming, and if they're quite clean before, then the rain + can't spoil them.' I got up at once. `You needn't be afraid,' he said. + `You won't tumble off. Only you must be careful. Always hold on with one + hand while you rub with the other.' As he spoke, he opened the door. I + started back in a terrible fright, for there was nothing but blue air to + be seen under me, like a great water without a bottom at all. But what + must be must, and to live up here was so much nicer than down in the mud + with holes in my shoes, that I never thought of not doing as I was told. + The little man showed me how and where to lay hold while I put my foot + round the edge of the door on to the first round of a ladder. `Once you're + up,' he said, `you'll see how you have to go well enough.' I did as he + told me, and crept out very carefully. Then the little man handed me the + bundle of dusters, saying, `I always carry them on my reaping hook, but I + don't think you could manage it properly. You shall have it if you like.' + I wouldn't take it, however, for it looked dangerous. + </p> + <p> + “I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the top of the + moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars were all over my head, so + bright and so near that I could almost have laid hold of them. The round + ball to which I clung went bobbing and floating away through the dark blue + above and below and on every side. It was so beautiful that all fear left + me, and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window after window. At length + I came to a very little one, in at which I peeped. There was the room with + the box of bees in it! I laid my ear to the window, and heard the musical + hum quite distinctly. A great longing to see them came upon me, and I + opened the window and crept in. The little box had a door like a closet. I + opened it—the tiniest crack—when out came the light with such + a sting that I closed it again in terror—not, however, before three + bees had shot out into the room, where they darted about like flashes of + lightning. Terribly frightened, I tried to get out of the window again, + but I could not: there was no way to the outside of the moon but through + the door; and that was in the room where the lady sat. No sooner had I + reached the room, than the three bees, which had followed me, flew at once + to the lady, and settled upon her hair. Then first I saw her move. She + started, put up her hand, and caught them; then rose and, having held them + into the flame of the lamp one after the other, turned to me. Her face was + not so sad now as stern. It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me + into trouble,' she said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is + all I can do to manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great + loss, and there will be a storm.' As she spoke, the clouds had gathered + all about us. I could see them come crowding up white about the windows. + `I am sorry to find,' said the lady, `that you are not to be trusted. You + must go home again—you won't do for us.' Then came a great clap of + thunder, and the moon rocked and swayed. All grew dark about me, and I + fell on the floor and lay half-stunned. I could hear everything but could + see nothing. `Shall I throw her out of the door, my lady?' said the little + man. `No,' she answered; `she's not quite bad enough for that. I don't + think there's much harm in her; only she'll never do for us. She would + make dreadful mischief up here. She's only fit for the mud. It's a great + pity. I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly + afraid she has stolen it.' The little man caught hold of my hand, and I + felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was true about it, + but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. Other things began to + come into my head. Somebody else had a hold of me. The little man wasn't + there. I opened my eyes at last, and saw the nurse. I had cried out in my + sleep, and she had come and waked me. But, Diamond, for all it was only a + dream, I cannot help being ashamed of myself yet for opening the lady's + box of bees.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't do it again—would you—if she were to take you + back?” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No. I don't think anything would ever make me do it again. But where's + the good? I shall never have the chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You silly baby! It was only a dream,” said Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “I know that, Nanny, dear. But how can you tell you mayn't dream it + again?” + </p> + <p> + “That's not a bit likely.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You're always saying that,” said Nanny. “I don't like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I won't say it again—if I don't forget.” said Diamond. “But it + was such a beautiful dream!—wasn't it, Nanny? What a pity you opened + that door and let the bees out! You might have had such a long dream, and + such nice talks with the moon-lady. Do try to go again, Nanny. I do so + want to hear more.” + </p> + <p> + But now the nurse came and told him it was time to go; and Diamond went, + saying to himself, “I can't help thinking that North Wind had something to + do with that dream. It would be tiresome to lie there all day and all + night too—without dreaming. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, the + moon might have carried her to the back of the north wind—who + knows?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW + </h2> + <p> + IT WAS a great delight to Diamond when at length Nanny was well enough to + leave the hospital and go home to their house. She was not very strong + yet, but Diamond's mother was very considerate of her, and took care that + she should have nothing to do she was not quite fit for. If Nanny had been + taken straight from the street, it is very probable she would not have + been so pleasant in a decent household, or so easy to teach; but after the + refining influences of her illness and the kind treatment she had had in + the hospital, she moved about the house just like some rather sad pleasure + haunting the mind. As she got better, and the colour came back to her + cheeks, her step grew lighter and quicker, her smile shone out more + readily, and it became certain that she would soon be a treasure of help. + It was great fun to see Diamond teaching her how to hold the baby, and + wash and dress him, and often they laughed together over her awkwardness. + But she had not many such lessons before she was able to perform those + duties quite as well as Diamond himself. + </p> + <p> + Things however did not go well with Joseph from the very arrival of Ruby. + It almost seemed as if the red beast had brought ill luck with him. The + fares were fewer, and the pay less. Ruby's services did indeed make the + week's income at first a little beyond what it used to be, but then there + were two more to feed. After the first month he fell lame, and for the + whole of the next Joseph dared not attempt to work him. I cannot say that + he never grumbled, for his own health was far from what it had been; but I + can say that he tried to do his best. During all that month, they lived on + very short commons indeed, seldom tasting meat except on Sundays, and poor + old Diamond, who worked hardest of all, not even then—so that at the + end of it he was as thin as a clothes-horse, while Ruby was as plump and + sleek as a bishop's cob. + </p> + <p> + Nor was it much better after Ruby was able to work again, for it was a + season of great depression in business, and that is very soon felt amongst + the cabmen. City men look more after their shillings, and their wives and + daughters have less to spend. It was besides a wet autumn, and bread rose + greatly in price. When I add to this that Diamond's mother was but poorly, + for a new baby was coming, you will see that these were not very jolly + times for our friends in the mews. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the depressing influences around him, Joseph was able to + keep a little hope alive in his heart; and when he came home at night, + would get Diamond to read to him, and would also make Nanny produce her + book that he might see how she was getting on. For Diamond had taken her + education in hand, and as she was a clever child, she was very soon able + to put letters and words together. + </p> + <p> + Thus the three months passed away, but Mr. Raymond did not return. Joseph + had been looking anxiously for him, chiefly with the desire of getting rid + of Ruby—not that he was absolutely of no use to him, but that he was + a constant weight upon his mind. Indeed, as far as provision went, he was + rather worse off with Ruby and Nanny than he had been before, but on the + other hand, Nanny was a great help in the house, and it was a comfort to + him to think that when the new baby did come, Nanny would be with his + wife. + </p> + <p> + Of God's gifts a baby is of the greatest; therefore it is no wonder that + when this one came, she was as heartily welcomed by the little household + as if she had brought plenty with her. Of course she made a great + difference in the work to be done—far more difference than her size + warranted, but Nanny was no end of help, and Diamond was as much of a + sunbeam as ever, and began to sing to the new baby the first moment he got + her in his arms. But he did not sing the same songs to her that he had + sung to his brother, for, he said, she was a new baby and must have new + songs; and besides, she was a sister-baby and not a brother-baby, and of + course would not like the same kind of songs. Where the difference in his + songs lay, however, I do not pretend to be able to point out. One thing I + am sure of, that they not only had no small share in the education of the + little girl, but helped the whole family a great deal more than they were + aware. + </p> + <p> + How they managed to get through the long dreary expensive winter, I can + hardly say. Sometimes things were better, sometimes worse. But at last the + spring came, and the winter was over and gone, and that was much. Still, + Mr. Raymond did not return, and although the mother would have been able + to manage without Nanny now, they could not look for a place for her so + long as they had Ruby; and they were not altogether sorry for this. One + week at last was worse than they had yet had. They were almost without + bread before it was over. But the sadder he saw his father and mother + looking, the more Diamond set himself to sing to the two babies. + </p> + <p> + One thing which had increased their expenses was that they had been forced + to hire another little room for Nanny. When the second baby came, Diamond + gave up his room that Nanny might be at hand to help his mother, and went + to hers, which, although a fine place to what she had been accustomed to, + was not very nice in his eyes. He did not mind the change though, for was + not his mother the more comfortable for it? And was not Nanny more + comfortable too? And indeed was not Diamond himself more comfortable that + other people were more comfortable? And if there was more comfort every + way, the change was a happy one. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. DIAMOND AND RUBY + </h2> + <p> + IT WAS Friday night, and Diamond, like the rest of the household, had had + very little to eat that day. The mother would always pay the week's rent + before she laid out anything even on food. His father had been very gloomy—so + gloomy that he had actually been cross to his wife. It is a strange thing + how pain of seeing the suffering of those we love will sometimes make us + add to their suffering by being cross with them. This comes of not having + faith enough in God, and shows how necessary this faith is, for when we + lose it, we lose even the kindness which alone can soothe the suffering. + Diamond in consequence had gone to bed very quiet and thoughtful—a + little troubled indeed. + </p> + <p> + It had been a very stormy winter, and even now that the spring had come, + the north wind often blew. When Diamond went to his bed, which was in a + tiny room in the roof, he heard it like the sea moaning; and when he fell + asleep he still heard the moaning. All at once he said to himself, “Am I + awake, or am I asleep?” But he had no time to answer the question, for + there was North Wind calling him. His heart beat very fast, it was such a + long time since he had heard that voice. He jumped out of bed, and looked + everywhere, but could not see her. “Diamond, come here,” she said again + and again; but where the here was he could not tell. To be sure the room + was all but quite dark, and she might be close beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “I want so much to go to you, but I can't + tell where.” + </p> + <p> + “Come here, Diamond,” was all her answer. + </p> + <p> + Diamond opened the door, and went out of the room, and down the stair and + into the yard. His little heart was in a flutter, for he had long given up + all thought of seeing her again. Neither now was he to see her. When he + got out, a great puff of wind came against him, and in obedience to it he + turned his back, and went as it blew. It blew him right up to the + stable-door, and went on blowing. + </p> + <p> + “She wants me to go into the stable,” said Diamond to himself, “but the + door is locked.” + </p> + <p> + He knew where the key was, in a certain hole in the wall—far too + high for him to get at. He ran to the place, however: just as he reached + it there came a wild blast, and down fell the key clanging on the stones + at his feet. He picked it up, and ran back and opened the stable-door, and + went in. And what do you think he saw? + </p> + <p> + A little light came through the dusty window from a gas-lamp, sufficient + to show him Diamond and Ruby with their two heads up, looking at each + other across the partition of their stalls. The light showed the white + mark on Diamond's forehead, but Ruby's eye shone so bright, that he + thought more light came out of it than went in. This is what he saw. + </p> + <p> + But what do you think he heard? + </p> + <p> + He heard the two horses talking to each other—in a strange language, + which yet, somehow or other, he could understand, and turn over in his + mind in English. The first words he heard were from Diamond, who + apparently had been already quarrelling with Ruby. + </p> + <p> + “Look how fat you are Ruby!” said old Diamond. “You are so plump and your + skin shines so, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no harm in being fat,” said Ruby in a deprecating tone. “No, nor + in being sleek. I may as well shine as not.” + </p> + <p> + “No harm?” retorted Diamond. “Is it no harm to go eating up all poor + master's oats, and taking up so much of his time grooming you, when you + only work six hours—no, not six hours a day, and, as I hear, get + along no faster than a big dray-horse with two tons behind him?—So + they tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your master's not mine,” said Ruby. “I must attend to my own master's + interests, and eat all that is given me, and be sleek and fat as I can, + and go no faster than I need.” + </p> + <p> + “Now really if the rest of the horses weren't all asleep, poor things—they + work till they're tired—I do believe they would get up and kick you + out of the stable. You make me ashamed of being a horse. You dare to say + my master ain't your master! That's your gratitude for the way he feeds + you and spares you! Pray where would your carcass be if it weren't for + him?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't do it for my sake. If I were his own horse, he would work me + as hard as he does you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm proud to be so worked. I wouldn't be as fat as you—not for + all you're worth. You're a disgrace to the stable. Look at the horse next + you. He's something like a horse—all skin and bone. And his master + ain't over kind to him either. He put a stinging lash on his whip last + week. But that old horse knows he's got the wife and children to keep—as + well as his drunken master—and he works like a horse. I daresay he + grudges his master the beer he drinks, but I don't believe he grudges + anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't grudge yours what he gets by me,” said Ruby. + </p> + <p> + “Gets!” retorted Diamond. “What he gets isn't worth grudging. It comes to + next to nothing—what with your fat and shine. + </p> + <p> + “Well, at least you ought to be thankful you're the better for it. You get + a two hours' rest a day out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank my master for that—not you, you lazy fellow! You go along + like a buttock of beef upon castors—you do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you afraid I'll kick, if you go on like that, Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “Kick! You couldn't kick if you tried. You might heave your rump up half a + foot, but for lashing out—oho! If you did, you'd be down on your + belly before you could get your legs under you again. It's my belief, once + out, they'd stick out for ever. Talk of kicking! Why don't you put one + foot before the other now and then when you're in the cab? The abuse + master gets for your sake is quite shameful. No decent horse would bring + it on him. Depend upon it, Ruby, no cabman likes to be abused any more + than his fare. But his fares, at least when you are between the shafts, + are very much to be excused. Indeed they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, Diamond, I don't want to go lame again.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you were so very lame after all—there!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I believe it was all your own fault. I'm not lame. I never was lame + in all my life. You don't take care of your legs. You never lay them down + at night. There you are with your huge carcass crushing down your poor + legs all night long. You don't even care for your own legs—so long + as you can eat, eat, and sleep, sleep. You a horse indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you I was lame.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not denying there was a puffy look about your off-pastern. But my + belief is, it wasn't even grease—it was fat.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I put my foot on one of those horrid stones they make the + roads with, and it gave my ankle such a twist.” + </p> + <p> + “Ankle indeed! Why should you ape your betters? Horses ain't got any + ankles: they're only pasterns. And so long as you don't lift your feet + better, but fall asleep between every step, you'll run a good chance of + laming all your ankles as you call them, one after another. It's not your + lively horse that comes to grief in that way. I tell you I believe it + wasn't much, and if it was, it was your own fault. There! I've done. I'm + going to sleep. I'll try to think as well of you as I can. If you would + but step out a bit and run off a little of your fat!” Here Diamond began + to double up his knees; but Ruby spoke again, and, as young Diamond + thought, in a rather different tone. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Diamond, I can't bear to have an honest old horse like you think + of me like that. I will tell you the truth: it was my own fault that I + fell lame.” + </p> + <p> + “I told you so,” returned the other, tumbling against the partition as he + rolled over on his side to give his legs every possible privilege in their + narrow circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “I meant to do it, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + At the words, the old horse arose with a scramble like thunder, shot his + angry head and glaring eye over into Ruby's stall, and said— + </p> + <p> + “Keep out of my way, you unworthy wretch, or I'll bite you. You a horse! + Why did you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I wanted to grow fat.” + </p> + <p> + “You grease-tub! Oh! my teeth and tail! I thought you were a humbug! Why + did you want to get fat? There's no truth to be got out of you but by + cross-questioning. You ain't fit to be a horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Because once I am fat, my nature is to keep fat for a long time; and I + didn't know when master might come home and want to see me.” + </p> + <p> + “You conceited, good-for-nothing brute! You're only fit for the knacker's + yard. You wanted to look handsome, did you? Hold your tongue, or I'll + break my halter and be at you—with your handsome fat!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Diamond. You're a good horse. You can't hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't hurt you! Just let me once try.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Why then?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I'm an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you don't. An ignorant, rude old human horse, like you, couldn't + know it. But there's young Diamond listening to all we're saying; and he + knows well enough there are horses in heaven for angels to ride upon, as + well as other animals, lions and eagles and bulls, in more important + situations. The horses the angels ride, must be angel-horses, else the + angels couldn't ride upon them. Well, I'm one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever know a horse tell a lie?” + </p> + <p> + “Never before. But you've confessed to shamming lame.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the sort. It was necessary I should grow fat, and necessary + that good Joseph, your master, should grow lean. I could have pretended to + be lame, but that no horse, least of all an angel-horse would do. So I + must be lame, and so I sprained my ankle—for the angel-horses have + ankles—they don't talk horse-slang up there—and it hurt me + very much, I assure you, Diamond, though you mayn't be good enough to be + able to believe it.” + </p> + <p> + Old Diamond made no reply. He had lain down again, and a sleepy snort, + very like a snore, revealed that, if he was not already asleep, he was + past understanding a word that Ruby was saying. When young Diamond found + this, he thought he might venture to take up the dropt shuttlecock of the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I'm good enough to believe it, Ruby,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But Ruby never turned his head, or took any notice of him. I suppose he + did not understand more of English than just what the coachman and + stableman were in the habit of addressing him with. Finding, however, that + his companion made no reply, he shot his head over the partition and + looking down at him said— + </p> + <p> + “You just wait till to-morrow, and you'll see whether I'm speaking the + truth or not.—I declare the old horse is fast asleep!—Diamond!—No + I won't.” + </p> + <p> + Ruby turned away, and began pulling at his hayrack in silence. + </p> + <p> + Diamond gave a shiver, and looking round saw that the door of the stable + was open. He began to feel as if he had been dreaming, and after a glance + about the stable to see if North Wind was anywhere visible, he thought he + had better go back to bed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS + </h2> + <p> + THE next morning, Diamond's mother said to his father, “I'm not quite + comfortable about that child again.” + </p> + <p> + “Which child, Martha?” asked Joseph. “You've got a choice now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Diamond I mean. I'm afraid he's getting into his queer ways again. + He's been at his old trick of walking in his sleep. I saw him run up the + stair in the middle of the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you go after him, wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did—and found him fast asleep in his bed. It's because + he's had so little meat for the last six weeks, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be that. I'm very sorry. But if it don't please God to send us + enough, what am I to do, wife?” + </p> + <p> + “You can't help it, I know, my dear good man,” returned Martha. “And after + all I don't know. I don't see why he shouldn't get on as well as the rest + of us. There I'm nursing baby all this time, and I get along pretty well. + I'm sure, to hear the little man singing, you wouldn't think there was + much amiss with him.” + </p> + <p> + For at that moment Diamond was singing like a lark in the clouds. He had + the new baby in his arms, while his mother was dressing herself. Joseph + was sitting at his breakfast—a little weak tea, dry bread, and very + dubious butter—which Nanny had set for him, and which he was + enjoying because he was hungry. He had groomed both horses, and had got + old Diamond harnessed ready to put to. + </p> + <p> + “Think of a fat angel, Dulcimer!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading his Bible, + had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty that ever after + he called his sister Dulcimer! + </p> + <p> + “Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!” he repeated; “for Ruby's an angel + of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat on purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “What purpose, Diamond?” asked his father. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his master comes,” + answered Diamond.—“What do you think, Dulcimer? It must be for some + good, for Ruby's an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I were rid of him, anyhow,” said his father; “for he weighs heavy + on my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder, father: he's so fat,” said Diamond. “But you needn't be + afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you had + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. It was + too bad to leave him on my hands this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he couldn't help it,” suggested Diamond. “I daresay he has some + good reason for it.” + </p> + <p> + “So I should have said,” returned his father, “if he had not driven such a + hard bargain with me at first.” + </p> + <p> + “But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband,” said his wife. “Mr. + Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of the bargain + than you wanted or reckoned upon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not: he's a hard man,” said Joseph, as he rose and went to get + his cab out. + </p> + <p> + Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches of + everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something like + what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Where did you come from, baby dear? + Out of the everywhere into here. + + Where did you get your eyes so blue? + Out of the sky as I came through. + + What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? + Some of the starry spikes left in. + + Where did you get that little tear? + I found it waiting when I got here. + + What makes your forehead so smooth and high? + A soft hand stroked it as I went by. + + What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? + I saw something better than any one knows. + + Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? + Three angels gave me at once a kiss. + + Where did you get this pearly ear? + God spoke, and it came out to hear. + + Where did you get those arms and hands? + Love made itself into hooks and bands. + + Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? + From the same box as the cherubs' wings. + + How did they all just come to be you? + God thought about me, and so I grew. + + But how did you come to us, you dear? + God thought about you, and so I am here. +</pre> + <p> + “You never made that song, Diamond,” said his mother. + </p> + <p> + “No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don't. That would be to take it from + somebody else. But it's mine for all that.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes it yours?” + </p> + <p> + “I love it so.” + </p> + <p> + “Does loving a thing make it yours?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, mother—at least more than anything else can. If I + didn't love baby (which couldn't be, you know) she wouldn't be mine a bit. + But I do love baby, and baby is my very own Dulcimer.” + </p> + <p> + “The baby's mine, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “That makes her the more mine, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you make that out?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you're mine, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that because you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just because. Love makes the only myness,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + When his father came home to have his dinner, and change Diamond for Ruby, + they saw him look very sad, and he told them he had not had a fare worth + mentioning the whole morning. + </p> + <p> + “We shall all have to go to the workhouse, wife,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to go to the back of the north wind,” said Diamond, + dreamily, not intending to say it aloud. + </p> + <p> + “So it would,” answered his father. “But how are we to get there, + Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “We must wait till we're taken,” returned Diamond. + </p> + <p> + Before his father could speak again, a knock came to the door, and in + walked Mr. Raymond with a smile on his face. Joseph got up and received + him respectfully, but not very cordially. Martha set a chair for him, but + he would not sit down. + </p> + <p> + “You are not very glad to see me,” he said to Joseph. “You don't want to + part with the old horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir, you are mistaken there. What with anxiety about him, and bad + luck, I've wished I were rid of him a thousand times. It was only to be + for three months, and here it's eight or nine.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to hear such a statement,” said Mr. Raymond. “Hasn't he been of + service to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not much, not with his lameness” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Mr. Raymond, hastily—“you've been laming him—have + you? That accounts for it. I see, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't my fault, and he's all right now. I don't know how it happened, + but—” + </p> + <p> + “He did it on purpose,” said Diamond. “He put his foot on a stone just to + twist his ankle.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that, Diamond?” said his father, turning to him. “I never + said so, for I could not think how it came.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard it—in the stable,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Let's have a look at him,” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll step into the yard,” said Joseph, “I'll bring him out.” + </p> + <p> + They went, and Joseph, having first taken off his harness, walked Ruby + into the middle of the yard. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Raymond, “you've not been using him well.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean by that, sir. I didn't expect to hear that + from you. He's sound in wind and limb—as sound as a barrel.” + </p> + <p> + “And as big, you might add. Why, he's as fat as a pig! You don't call that + good usage!” + </p> + <p> + Joseph was too angry to make any answer. + </p> + <p> + “You've not worked him enough, I say. That's not making good use of him. + That's not doing as you'd be done by.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't be sorry if I was served the same, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “He's too fat, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a whole month I couldn't work him at all, and he did nothing + but eat his head off. He's an awful eater. I've taken the best part of six + hours a day out of him since, but I'm always afraid of his coming to grief + again, and so I couldn't make the most even of that. I declare to you, + sir, when he's between the shafts, I sit on the box as miserable as if I'd + stolen him. He looks all the time as if he was a bottling up of complaints + to make of me the minute he set eyes on you again. There! look at him now, + squinting round at me with one eye! I declare to you, on my word, I + haven't laid the whip on him more than three times.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear it. He never did want the whip.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say that, sir. If ever a horse wanted the whip, he do. He's + brought me to beggary almost with his snail's pace. I'm very glad you've + come to rid me of him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that,” said Mr. Raymond. “Suppose I were to ask you to buy + him of me—cheap.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have him in a present, sir. I don't like him. And I wouldn't + drive a horse that I didn't like—no, not for gold. It can't come to + good where there's no love between 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair they'd + make.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond. + </p> + <p> + When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could hardly keep his + countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. Beside the great, red, round + barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, Diamond looked like a clothes-horse + with a skin thrown over it. There was hardly a spot of him where you could + not descry some sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and grim and weary he + stood, kissing his master, and heeding no one else. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't been using him well,” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “I must say,” returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse's neck, + “that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse is worth + three of the other now.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so. I think they make a very nice pair. If the one's too + fat, the other's too lean—so that's all right. And if you won't buy + my Ruby, I must buy your Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks. + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to like the proposal,” said Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” returned Joseph. “I wouldn't part with my old Diamond for his + skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones.” + </p> + <p> + “Who said anything about parting with him?” + </p> + <p> + “You did now, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I didn't. I only spoke of buying him to make a pair with Ruby. We + could pare Ruby and patch Diamond a bit. And for height, they are as near + a match as I care about. Of course you would be the coachman—if only + you would consent to be reconciled to Ruby.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph stood bewildered, unable to answer. + </p> + <p> + “I've bought a small place in Kent,” continued Mr. Raymond, “and I must + have a pair to my carriage, for the roads are hilly thereabouts. I don't + want to make a show with a pair of high-steppers. I think these will just + do. Suppose, for a week or two, you set yourself to take Ruby down and + bring Diamond up. If we could only lay a pipe from Ruby's sides into + Diamond's, it would be the work of a moment. But I fear that wouldn't + answer.” + </p> + <p> + A strong inclination to laugh intruded upon Joseph's inclination to cry, + and made speech still harder than before. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, sir,” he said at length. “I've been so miserable, and + for so long, that I never thought you was only a chaffing of me when you + said I hadn't used the horses well. I did grumble at you, sir, many's the + time in my trouble; but whenever I said anything, my little Diamond would + look at me with a smile, as much as to say: 'I know him better than you, + father;' and upon my word, I always thought the boy must be right.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you sell me old Diamond, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir, on one condition—that if ever you want to part with + him or me, you give me the option of buying him. I could not part with + him, sir. As to who calls him his, that's nothing; for, as Diamond says, + it's only loving a thing that can make it yours—and I do love old + Diamond, sir, dearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's a cheque for twenty pounds, which I wrote to offer you for + him, in case I should find you had done the handsome thing by Ruby. Will + that be enough?” + </p> + <p> + “It's too much, sir. His body ain't worth it—shoes and all. It's + only his heart, sir—that's worth millions—but his heart'll be + mine all the same—so it's too much, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so. It won't be, at least, by the time we've got him fed up + again. You take it and welcome. Just go on with your cabbing for another + month, only take it out of Ruby and let Diamond rest; and by that time I + shall be ready for you to go down into the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir, thank you. Diamond set you down for a friend, sir, the + moment he saw you. I do believe that child of mine knows more than other + people.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, too,” said Mr. Raymond as he walked away. + </p> + <p> + He had meant to test Joseph when he made the bargain about Ruby, but had + no intention of so greatly prolonging the trial. He had been taken ill in + Switzerland, and had been quite unable to return sooner. He went away now + highly gratified at finding that he had stood the test, and was a true + man. + </p> + <p> + Joseph rushed in to his wife who had been standing at the window anxiously + waiting the result of the long colloquy. When she heard that the horses + were to go together in double harness, she burst forth into an immoderate + fit of laughter. Diamond came up with the baby in his arms and made big + anxious eyes at her, saying— + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you, mother dear? Do cry a little. It will do you + good. When father takes ever so small a drop of spirits, he puts water to + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You silly darling!” said his mother; “how could I but laugh at the notion + of that great fat Ruby going side by side with our poor old Diamond?” + </p> + <p> + “But why not, mother? With a month's oats, and nothing to do, Diamond'll + be nearer Ruby's size than you will father's. I think it's very good for + different sorts to go together. Now Ruby will have a chance of teaching + Diamond better manners.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you say such a thing, Diamond?” said his father, angrily. “To + compare the two for manners, there's no comparison possible. Our Diamond's + a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to say he isn't, father; for I daresay some gentlemen judge + their neighbours unjustly. That's all I mean. Diamond shouldn't have + thought such bad things of Ruby. He didn't try to make the best of him.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard them talking about it one night.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why Diamond and Ruby. Ruby's an angel.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph stared and said no more. For all his new gladness, he was very + gloomy as he re-harnessed the angel, for he thought his darling Diamond + was going out of his mind. + </p> + <p> + He could not help thinking rather differently, however, when he found the + change that had come over Ruby. Considering his fat, he exerted himself + amazingly, and got over the ground with incredible speed. So willing, even + anxious, was he to go now, that Joseph had to hold him quite tight. + </p> + <p> + Then as he laughed at his own fancies, a new fear came upon him lest the + horse should break his wind, and Mr. Raymond have good cause to think he + had not been using him well. He might even suppose that he had taken + advantage of his new instructions, to let out upon the horse some of his + pent-up dislike; whereas in truth, it had so utterly vanished that he felt + as if Ruby, too, had been his friend all the time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. IN THE COUNTRY + </h2> + <p> + BEFORE the end of the month, Ruby had got respectably thin, and Diamond + respectably stout. They really began to look fit for double harness. + </p> + <p> + Joseph and his wife got their affairs in order, and everything ready for + migrating at the shortest notice; and they felt so peaceful and happy that + they judged all the trouble they had gone through well worth enduring. As + for Nanny, she had been so happy ever since she left the hospital, that + she expected nothing better, and saw nothing attractive in the notion of + the country. At the same time, she had not the least idea of what the word + country meant, for she had never seen anything about her but streets and + gas-lamps. Besides, she was more attached to Jim than to Diamond: Jim was + a reasonable being, Diamond in her eyes at best only an amiable, + over-grown baby, whom no amount of expostulation would ever bring to talk + sense, not to say think it. Now that she could manage the baby as well as + he, she judged herself altogether his superior. Towards his father and + mother, she was all they could wish. + </p> + <p> + Diamond had taken a great deal of pains and trouble to find Jim, and had + at last succeeded through the help of the tall policeman, who was glad to + renew his acquaintance with the strange child. Jim had moved his quarters, + and had not heard of Nanny's illness till some time after she was taken to + the hospital, where he was too shy to go and inquire about her. But when + at length she went to live with Diamond's family, Jim was willing enough + to go and see her. It was after one of his visits, during which they had + been talking of her new prospects, that Nanny expressed to Diamond her + opinion of the country. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't nothing in it but the sun and moon, Diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “There's trees and flowers,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, they ain't no count,” returned Nanny. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't they? They're so beautiful, they make you happy to look at them.” + </p> + <p> + “That's because you're such a silly.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond smiled with a far-away look, as if he were gazing through clouds + of green leaves and the vision contented him. But he was thinking with + himself what more he could do for Nanny; and that same evening he went to + find Mr. Raymond, for he had heard that he had returned to town. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! how do you do, Diamond?” said Mr. Raymond; “I am glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + And he was indeed, for he had grown very fond of him. His opinion of him + was very different from Nanny's. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want now, my child?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I'm always wanting something, sir,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's quite right, so long as what you want is right. Everybody is + always wanting something; only we don't mention it in the right place + often enough. What is it now?” + </p> + <p> + “There's a friend of Nanny's, a lame boy, called Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard of him,” said Mr. Raymond. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Nanny doesn't care much about going to the country, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what has that to do with Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “You couldn't find a corner for Jim to work in—could you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that I couldn't. That is, if you can show good reason for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a good boy, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, so much the better for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I know he can shine boots, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better for us.” + </p> + <p> + “You want your boots shined in the country—don't you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't be nice to walk over the flowers with dirty boots—would + it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “They wouldn't like it—would they?” + </p> + <p> + “No, they wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Nanny would be better pleased to go, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “If the flowers didn't like dirty boots to walk over them, Nanny wouldn't + mind going to the country? Is that it? I don't quite see it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I didn't mean that. I meant, if you would take Jim with you to + clean your boots, and do odd jobs, you know, sir, then Nanny would like it + better. She's so fond of Jim!” + </p> + <p> + “Now you come to the point, Diamond. I see what you mean, exactly. I will + turn it over in my mind. Could you bring Jim to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try, sir. But they don't mind me much. They think I'm silly,” added + Diamond, with one of his sweetest smiles. + </p> + <p> + What Mr. Raymond thought, I dare hardly attempt to put down here. But one + part of it was, that the highest wisdom must ever appear folly to those + who do not possess it. + </p> + <p> + “I think he would come though—after dark, you know,” Diamond + continued. “He does well at shining boots. People's kind to lame boys, you + know, sir. But after dark, there ain't so much doing.” + </p> + <p> + Diamond succeeded in bringing Jim to Mr. Raymond, and the consequence was + that he resolved to give the boy a chance. He provided new clothes for + both him and Nanny; and upon a certain day, Joseph took his wife and three + children, and Nanny and Jim, by train to a certain station in the county + of Kent, where they found a cart waiting to carry them and their luggage + to The Mound, which was the name of Mr. Raymond's new residence. I will + not describe the varied feelings of the party as they went, or when they + arrived. All I will say is, that Diamond, who is my only care, was full of + quiet delight—a gladness too deep to talk about. + </p> + <p> + Joseph returned to town the same night, and the next morning drove Ruby + and Diamond down, with the carriage behind them, and Mr. Raymond and a + lady in the carriage. For Mr. Raymond was an old bachelor no longer: he + was bringing his wife with him to live at The Mound. The moment Nanny saw + her, she recognised her as the lady who had lent her the ruby-ring. That + ring had been given her by Mr. Raymond. + </p> + <p> + The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not a + great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn, and the + most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves, because if + they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun for them. So they + have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed again by the time the + trees are dressed. But there was plenty of the loveliest grass and daisies + about the house, and Diamond's chief pleasure seemed to be to lie amongst + them, and breathe the pure air. But all the time, he was dreaming of the + country at the back of the north wind, and trying to recall the songs the + river used to sing. For this was more like being at the back of the north + wind than anything he had known since he left it. Sometimes he would have + his little brother, sometimes his little sister, and sometimes both of + them in the grass with him, and then he felt just like a cat with her + first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr—all he could do was to + sing. + </p> + <p> + These were very different times from those when he used to drive the cab, + but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle. He did not do so much for + his mother now, because Nanny occupied his former place; but he helped his + father still, both in the stable and the harness-room, and generally went + with him on the box that he might learn to drive a pair, and be ready to + open the carriage-door. Mr. Raymond advised his father to give him plenty + of liberty. + </p> + <p> + “A boy like that,” he said, “ought not to be pushed.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph assented heartily, smiling to himself at the idea of pushing + Diamond. After doing everything that fell to his share, the boy had a + wealth of time at his disposal. And a happy, sometimes a merry time it + was. Only for two months or so, he neither saw nor heard anything of North + Wind. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. I MAKE DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE + </h2> + <p> + MR. RAYMOND'S house was called The Mound, because it stood upon a little + steep knoll, so smooth and symmetrical that it showed itself at once to be + artificial. It had, beyond doubt, been built for Queen Elizabeth as a + hunting tower—a place, namely, from the top of which you could see + the country for miles on all sides, and so be able to follow with your + eyes the flying deer and the pursuing hounds and horsemen. The mound had + been cast up to give a good basement-advantage over the neighbouring + heights and woods. There was a great quarry-hole not far off, brim-full of + water, from which, as the current legend stated, the materials forming the + heart of the mound—a kind of stone unfit for building—had been + dug. The house itself was of brick, and they said the foundations were + first laid in the natural level, and then the stones and earth of the + mound were heaped about and between them, so that its great height should + be well buttressed. + </p> + <p> + Joseph and his wife lived in a little cottage a short way from the house. + It was a real cottage, with a roof of thick thatch, which, in June and + July, the wind sprinkled with the red and white petals it shook from the + loose topmost sprays of the rose-trees climbing the walls. At first + Diamond had a nest under this thatch—a pretty little room with white + muslin curtains, but afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Raymond wanted to have him + for a page in the house, and his father and mother were quite pleased to + have him employed without his leaving them. So he was dressed in a suit of + blue, from which his pale face and fair hair came out like the loveliest + blossom, and took up his abode in the house. + </p> + <p> + “Would you be afraid to sleep alone, Diamond?” asked his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean, ma'am,” said Diamond. “I never was afraid of + anything that I can recollect—not much, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a little room at the top of the house—all alone,” she + returned; “perhaps you would not mind sleeping there?” + </p> + <p> + “I can sleep anywhere, and I like best to be high up. Should I be able to + see out?” + </p> + <p> + “I will show you the place,” she answered; and taking him by the hand, she + led him up and up the oval-winding stair in one of the two towers. + </p> + <p> + Near the top they entered a tiny little room, with two windows from which + you could see over the whole country. Diamond clapped his hands with + delight. + </p> + <p> + “You would like this room, then, Diamond?” said his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “It's the grandest room in the house,” he answered. “I shall be near the + stars, and yet not far from the tops of the trees. That's just what I + like.” + </p> + <p> + I daresay he thought, also, that it would be a nice place for North Wind + to call at in passing; but he said nothing of that sort. Below him spread + a lake of green leaves, with glimpses of grass here and there at the + bottom of it. As he looked down, he saw a squirrel appear suddenly, and as + suddenly vanish amongst the topmost branches. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! little squirrel,” he cried, “my nest is built higher than yours.” + </p> + <p> + “You can be up here with your books as much as you like,” said his + mistress. “I will have a little bell hung at the door, which I can ring + when I want you. Half-way down the stair is the drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + So Diamond was installed as page, and his new room got ready for him. + </p> + <p> + It was very soon after this that I came to know Diamond. I was then a + tutor in a family whose estate adjoined the little property belonging to + The Mound. I had made the acquaintance of Mr. Raymond in London some time + before, and was walking up the drive towards the house to call upon him + one fine warm evening, when I saw Diamond for the first time. He was + sitting at the foot of a great beech-tree, a few yards from the road, with + a book on his knees. He did not see me. I walked up behind the tree, and + peeping over his shoulder, saw that he was reading a fairy-book. + </p> + <p> + “What are you reading?” I said, and spoke suddenly, with the hope of + seeing a startled little face look round at me. Diamond turned his head as + quietly as if he were only obeying his mother's voice, and the calmness of + his face rebuked my unkind desire and made me ashamed of it. + </p> + <p> + “I am reading the story of the Little Lady and the Goblin Prince,” said + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I don't know the story,” I returned. “Who is it by?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Raymond made it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he your uncle?” I asked at a guess. + </p> + <p> + “No. He's my master.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you do for him?” I asked respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “Anything he wishes me to do,” he answered. “I am busy for him now. He + gave me this story to read. He wants my opinion upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you find it rather hard to make up your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear no! Any story always tells me itself what I'm to think about it. + Mr. Raymond doesn't want me to say whether it is a clever story or not, + but whether I like it, and why I like it. I never can tell what they call + clever from what they call silly, but I always know whether I like a story + or not.” + </p> + <p> + “And can you always tell why you like it or not?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Very often I can't at all. Sometimes I can. I always know, but I + can't always tell why. Mr. Raymond writes the stories, and then tries them + on me. Mother does the same when she makes jam. She's made such a lot of + jam since we came here! And she always makes me taste it to see if it'll + do. Mother knows by the face I make whether it will or not.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment I caught sight of two more children approaching. One was a + handsome girl, the other a pale-faced, awkward-looking boy, who limped + much on one leg. I withdrew a little, to see what would follow, for they + seemed in some consternation. After a few hurried words, they went off + together, and I pursued my way to the house, where I was as kindly + received by Mr. and Mrs. Raymond as I could have desired. From them I + learned something of Diamond, and was in consequence the more glad to find + him, when I returned, seated in the same place as before. + </p> + <p> + “What did the boy and girl want with you, Diamond?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “They had seen a creature that frightened them.” + </p> + <p> + “And they came to tell you about it?” + </p> + <p> + “They couldn't get water out of the well for it. So they wanted me to go + with them.” + </p> + <p> + “They're both bigger than you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but they were frightened at it.” + </p> + <p> + “And weren't you frightened at it?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I'm silly. I'm never frightened at things.” + </p> + <p> + I could not help thinking of the old meaning of the word silly. + </p> + <p> + “And what was it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I think it was a kind of an angel—a very little one. It had a long + body and great wings, which it drove about it so fast that they grew a + thin cloud all round it. It flew backwards and forwards over the well, or + hung right in the middle, making a mist of its wings, as if its business + was to take care of the water.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you do to drive it away?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't drive it away. I knew, whatever the creature was, the well was + to get water out of. So I took the jug, dipped it in, and drew the water.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did the creature do?” + </p> + <p> + “Flew about.” + </p> + <p> + “And it didn't hurt you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Why should it? I wasn't doing anything wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “What did your companions say then?” + </p> + <p> + “They said—`Thank you, Diamond. What a dear silly you are!'” + </p> + <p> + “And weren't you angry with them?” + </p> + <p> + “No! Why should I? I should like if they would play with me a little; but + they always like better to go away together when their work is over. They + never heed me. I don't mind it much, though. The other creatures are + friendly. They don't run away from me. Only they're all so busy with their + own work, they don't mind me much.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you feel lonely, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! When nobody minds me, I get into my nest, and look up. And then + the sky does mind me, and thinks about me.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your nest?” + </p> + <p> + He rose, saying, “I will show you,” and led me to the other side of the + tree. + </p> + <p> + There hung a little rope-ladder from one of the lower boughs. The boy + climbed up the ladder and got upon the bough. Then he climbed farther into + the leafy branches, and went out of sight. + </p> + <p> + After a little while, I heard his voice coming down out of the tree. + </p> + <p> + “I am in my nest now,” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see you,” I returned. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see you either, but I can see the first star peeping out of the + sky. I should like to get up into the sky. Don't you think I shall, some + day?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. Tell me what more you see up there.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything more, except a few leaves, and the big sky over me. + It goes swinging about. The earth is all behind my back. There comes + another star! The wind is like kisses from a big lady. When I get up here + I feel as if I were in North Wind's arms.” + </p> + <p> + This was the first I heard of North Wind. + </p> + <p> + The whole ways and look of the child, so full of quiet wisdom, yet so + ready to accept the judgment of others in his own dispraise, took hold of + my heart, and I felt myself wonderfully drawn towards him. It seemed to + me, somehow, as if little Diamond possessed the secret of life, and was + himself what he was so ready to think the lowest living thing—an + angel of God with something special to say or do. A gush of reverence came + over me, and with a single goodnight, I turned and left him in his nest. + </p> + <p> + I saw him often after this, and gained so much of his confidence that he + told me all I have told you. I cannot pretend to account for it. I leave + that for each philosophical reader to do after his own fashion. The + easiest way is that of Nanny and Jim, who said often to each other that + Diamond had a tile loose. But Mr. Raymond was much of my opinion + concerning the boy; while Mrs. Raymond confessed that she often rang her + bell just to have once more the pleasure of seeing the lovely stillness of + the boy's face, with those blue eyes which seemed rather made for other + people to look into than for himself to look out of. + </p> + <p> + It was plainer to others than to himself that he felt the desertion of + Nanny and Jim. They appeared to regard him as a mere toy, except when they + found he could minister to the scruple of using him—generally with + success. They were, however, well-behaved to a wonderful degree; while I + have little doubt that much of their good behaviour was owing to the + unconscious influence of the boy they called God's baby. + </p> + <p> + One very strange thing is that I could never find out where he got some of + his many songs. At times they would be but bubbles blown out of a nursery + rhyme, as was the following, which I heard him sing one evening to his + little Dulcimer. There were about a score of sheep feeding in a paddock + near him, their white wool dyed a pale rose in the light of the setting + sun. Those in the long shadows from the trees were dead white; those in + the sunlight were half glorified with pale rose. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Little Bo Peep, she lost her sheep, + And didn't know where to find them; + They were over the height and out of sight, + Trailing their tails behind them. + + Little Bo Peep woke out of her sleep, + Jump'd up and set out to find them: + “The silly things, they've got no wings, + And they've left their trails behind them: + + “They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails, + And so I shall follow and find them;” + For wherever a tail had dragged a trail, + The long grass grew behind them. + + And day's eyes and butter-cups, cow's lips and crow's feet + Were glittering in the sun. + She threw down her book, and caught up her crook, + And after her sheep did run. + + She ran, and she ran, and ever as she ran, + The grass grew higher and higher; + Till over the hill the sun began + To set in a flame of fire. + + She ran on still—up the grassy hill, + And the grass grew higher and higher; + When she reached its crown, the sun was down, + And had left a trail of fire. + + The sheep and their tails were gone, all gone— + And no more trail behind them! + Yes, yes! they were there—long-tailed and fair, + But, alas! she could not find them. + + Purple and gold, and rosy and blue, + With their tails all white behind them, + Her sheep they did run in the trail of the sun; + She saw them, but could not find them. + + After the sun, like clouds they did run, + But she knew they were her sheep: + She sat down to cry, and look up at the sky, + But she cried herself asleep. + + And as she slept the dew fell fast, + And the wind blew from the sky; + And strange things took place that shun the day's face, + Because they are sweet and shy. + + Nibble, nibble, crop! she heard as she woke: + A hundred little lambs + Did pluck and eat the grass so sweet + That grew in the trails of their dams. + + Little Bo Peep caught up her crook, + And wiped the tears that did blind her. + And nibble, nibble crop! without a stop! + The lambs came eating behind her. + + Home, home she came, both tired and lame, + With three times as many sheep. + In a month or more, they'll be as big as before, + And then she'll laugh in her sleep. + + But what would you say, if one fine day, + When they've got their bushiest tails, + Their grown up game should be just the same, + And she have to follow their trails? + + Never weep, Bo Peep, though you lose your sheep, + And do not know where to find them; + 'Tis after the sun the mothers have run, + And there are their lambs behind them. +</pre> + <p> + I confess again to having touched up a little, but it loses far more in + Diamond's sweet voice singing it than it gains by a rhyme here and there. + </p> + <p> + Some of them were out of books Mr. Raymond had given him. These he always + knew, but about the others he could seldom tell. Sometimes he would say, + “I made that one.” but generally he would say, “I don't know; I found it + somewhere;” or “I got it at the back of the north wind.” + </p> + <p> + One evening I found him sitting on the grassy slope under the house, with + his Dulcimer in his arms and his little brother rolling on the grass + beside them. He was chanting in his usual way, more like the sound of a + brook than anything else I can think of. When I went up to them he ceased + his chant. + </p> + <p> + “Do go on, Diamond. Don't mind me,” I said. + </p> + <p> + He began again at once. While he sang, Nanny and Jim sat a little way off, + one hemming a pocket-handkerchief, and the other reading a story to her, + but they never heeded Diamond. This is as near what he sang as I can + recollect, or reproduce rather. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + What would you see if I took you up + To my little nest in the air? + You would see the sky like a clear blue cup + Turned upside downwards there. + + What would you do if I took you there + To my little nest in the tree? + My child with cries would trouble the air, + To get what she could but see. + + What would you get in the top of the tree + For all your crying and grief? + Not a star would you clutch of all you see— + You could only gather a leaf. + + But when you had lost your greedy grief, + Content to see from afar, + You would find in your hand a withering leaf, + In your heart a shining star. +</pre> + <p> + As Diamond went on singing, it grew very dark, and just as he ceased there + came a great flash of lightning, that blinded us all for a moment. + Dulcimer crowed with pleasure; but when the roar of thunder came after it, + the little brother gave a loud cry of terror. Nanny and Jim came running + up to us, pale with fear. Diamond's face, too, was paler than usual, but + with delight. Some of the glory seemed to have clung to it, and remained + shining. + </p> + <p> + “You're not frightened—are you, Diamond?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “No. Why should I be?” he answered with his usual question, looking up in + my face with calm shining eyes. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't got sense to be frightened,” said Nanny, going up to him and + giving him a pitying hug. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps there's more sense in not being frightened, Nanny,” I returned. + “Do you think the lightning can do as it likes?” + </p> + <p> + “It might kill you,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, it mightn't!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + As he spoke there came another great flash, and a tearing crack. + </p> + <p> + “There's a tree struck!” I said; and when we looked round, after the + blinding of the flash had left our eyes, we saw a huge bough of the + beech-tree in which was Diamond's nest hanging to the ground like the + broken wing of a bird. + </p> + <p> + “There!” cried Nanny; “I told you so. If you had been up there you see + what would have happened, you little silly!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't,” said Diamond, and began to sing to Dulcimer. All I could + hear of the song, for the other children were going on with their chatter, + was— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The clock struck one, + And the mouse came down. + Dickery, dickery, dock! +</pre> + <p> + Then there came a blast of wind, and the rain followed in straight-pouring + lines, as if out of a watering-pot. Diamond jumped up with his little + Dulcimer in his arms, and Nanny caught up the little boy, and they ran for + the cottage. Jim vanished with a double shuffle, and I went into the + house. + </p> + <p> + When I came out again to return home, the clouds were gone, and the + evening sky glimmered through the trees, blue, and pale-green towards the + west, I turned my steps a little aside to look at the stricken beech. I + saw the bough torn from the stem, and that was all the twilight would + allow me to see. While I stood gazing, down from the sky came a sound of + singing, but the voice was neither of lark nor of nightingale: it was + sweeter than either: it was the voice of Diamond, up in his airy nest:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The lightning and thunder, + They go and they come; + But the stars and the stillness + Are always at home. +</pre> + <p> + And then the voice ceased. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Diamond,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, sir,” answered Diamond. + </p> + <p> + As I walked away pondering, I saw the great black top of the beech swaying + about against the sky in an upper wind, and heard the murmur as of many + dim half-articulate voices filling the solitude around Diamond's nest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI. DIAMOND QUESTIONS NORTH WIND + </h2> + <p> + MY READERS will not wonder that, after this, I did my very best to gain + the friendship of Diamond. Nor did I find this at all difficult, the child + was so ready to trust. Upon one subject alone was he reticent—the + story of his relations with North Wind. I fancy he could not quite make up + his mind what to think of them. At all events it was some little time + before he trusted me with this, only then he told me everything. If I + could not regard it all in exactly the same light as he did, I was, while + guiltless of the least pretence, fully sympathetic, and he was satisfied + without demanding of me any theory of difficult points involved. I let him + see plainly enough, that whatever might be the explanation of the + marvellous experience, I would have given much for a similar one myself. + </p> + <p> + On an evening soon after the thunderstorm, in a late twilight, with a + half-moon high in the heavens, I came upon Diamond in the act of climbing + by his little ladder into the beech-tree. + </p> + <p> + “What are you always going up there for, Diamond?” I heard Nanny ask, + rather rudely, I thought. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes for one thing, sometimes for another, Nanny,” answered Diamond, + looking skywards as he climbed. + </p> + <p> + “You'll break your neck some day,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going up to look at the moon to-night,” he added, without heeding her + remark. + </p> + <p> + “You'll see the moon just as well down here,” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be no nearer to her up there.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! I shall. I must be nearer her, you know. I wish I could dream as + pretty dreams about her as you can, Nanny.” + </p> + <p> + “You silly! you never have done about that dream. I never dreamed but that + one, and it was nonsense enough, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't nonsense. It was a beautiful dream—and a funny one too, + both in one.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's the good of talking about it that way, when you know it was + only a dream? Dreams ain't true.” + </p> + <p> + “That one was true, Nanny. You know it was. Didn't you come to grief for + doing what you were told not to do? And isn't that true?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't get any sense into him,” exclaimed Nanny, with an expression of + mild despair. “Do you really believe, Diamond, that there's a house in the + moon, with a beautiful lady and a crooked old man and dusters in it?” + </p> + <p> + “If there isn't, there's something better,” he answered, and vanished in + the leaves over our heads. + </p> + <p> + I went into the house, where I visited often in the evenings. When I came + out, there was a little wind blowing, very pleasant after the heat of the + day, for although it was late summer now, it was still hot. The tree-tops + were swinging about in it. I took my way past the beech, and called up to + see if Diamond were still in his nest in its rocking head. + </p> + <p> + “Are you there, Diamond?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” came his clear voice in reply. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it growing too dark for you to get down safely?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir—if I take time to it. I know my way so well, and never + let go with one hand till I've a good hold with the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Do be careful,” I insisted—foolishly, seeing the boy was as careful + as he could be already. + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming,” he returned. “I've got all the moon I want to-night.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a rustling and a rustling drawing nearer and nearer. Three or four + minutes elapsed, and he appeared at length creeping down his little + ladder. I took him in my arms, and set him on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” he said. “That's the north wind blowing, isn't it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't tell,” I answered. “It feels cool and kind, and I think it may + be. But I couldn't be sure except it were stronger, for a gentle wind + might turn any way amongst the trunks of the trees.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall know when I get up to my own room,” said Diamond. “I think I hear + my mistress's bell. Good-night, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He ran to the house, and I went home. + </p> + <p> + His mistress had rung for him only to send him to bed, for she was very + careful over him and I daresay thought he was not looking well. When he + reached his own room, he opened both his windows, one of which looked to + the north and the other to the east, to find how the wind blew. It blew + right in at the northern window. Diamond was very glad, for he thought + perhaps North Wind herself would come now: a real north wind had never + blown all the time since he left London. But, as she always came of + herself, and never when he was looking for her, and indeed almost never + when he was thinking of her, he shut the east window, and went to bed. + Perhaps some of my readers may wonder that he could go to sleep with such + an expectation; and, indeed, if I had not known him, I should have + wondered at it myself; but it was one of his peculiarities, and seemed + nothing strange in him. He was so full of quietness that he could go to + sleep almost any time, if he only composed himself and let the sleep come. + This time he went fast asleep as usual. + </p> + <p> + But he woke in the dim blue night. The moon had vanished. He thought he + heard a knocking at his door. “Somebody wants me,” he said to himself, and + jumping out of bed, ran to open it. + </p> + <p> + But there was no one there. He closed it again, and, the noise still + continuing, found that another door in the room was rattling. It belonged + to a closet, he thought, but he had never been able to open it. The wind + blowing in at the window must be shaking it. He would go and see if it was + so. + </p> + <p> + The door now opened quite easily, but to his surprise, instead of a closet + he found a long narrow room. The moon, which was sinking in the west, + shone in at an open window at the further end. The room was low with a + coved ceiling, and occupied the whole top of the house, immediately under + the roof. It was quite empty. The yellow light of the half-moon streamed + over the dark floor. He was so delighted at the discovery of the strange, + desolate, moonlit place close to his own snug little room, that he began + to dance and skip about the floor. The wind came in through the door he + had left open, and blew about him as he danced, and he kept turning + towards it that it might blow in his face. He kept picturing to himself + the many places, lovely and desolate, the hill-sides and farm-yards and + tree-tops and meadows, over which it had blown on its way to The Mound. + And as he danced, he grew more and more delighted with the motion and the + wind; his feet grew stronger, and his body lighter, until at length it + seemed as if he were borne up on the air, and could almost fly. So strong + did his feeling become, that at last he began to doubt whether he was not + in one of those precious dreams he had so often had, in which he floated + about on the air at will. But something made him look up, and to his + unspeakable delight, he found his uplifted hands lying in those of North + Wind, who was dancing with him, round and round the long bare room, her + hair now falling to the floor, now filling the arched ceiling, her eyes + shining on him like thinking stars, and the sweetest of grand smiles + playing breezily about her beautiful mouth. She was, as so often before, + of the height of a rather tall lady. She did not stoop in order to dance + with him, but held his hands high in hers. When he saw her, he gave one + spring, and his arms were about her neck, and her arms holding him to her + bosom. The same moment she swept with him through the open window in at + which the moon was shining, made a circuit like a bird about to alight, + and settled with him in his nest on the top of the great beech-tree. There + she placed him on her lap and began to hush him as if he were her own + baby, and Diamond was so entirely happy that he did not care to speak a + word. At length, however, he found that he was going to sleep, and that + would be to lose so much, that, pleasant as it was, he could not consent. + </p> + <p> + “Please, dear North Wind,” he said, “I am so happy that I'm afraid it's a + dream. How am I to know that it's not a dream?” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter?” returned North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “I should, cry” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “But why should you cry? The dream, if it is a dream, is a pleasant one—is + it not?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just why I want it to be true.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgotten what you said to Nanny about her dream?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not for the dream itself—I mean, it's not for the pleasure of + it,” answered Diamond, “for I have that, whether it be a dream or not; + it's for you, North Wind; I can't bear to find it a dream, because then I + should lose you. You would be nobody then, and I could not bear that. You + ain't a dream, are you, dear North Wind? Do say No, else I shall cry, and + come awake, and you'll be gone for ever. I daren't dream about you once + again if you ain't anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm either not a dream, or there's something better that's not a dream, + Diamond,” said North Wind, in a rather sorrowful tone, he thought. + </p> + <p> + “But it's not something better—it's you I want, North Wind,” he + persisted, already beginning to cry a little. + </p> + <p> + She made no answer, but rose with him in her arms and sailed away over the + tree-tops till they came to a meadow, where a flock of sheep was feeding. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember what the song you were singing a week ago says about + Bo-Peep—how she lost her sheep, but got twice as many lambs?” asked + North Wind, sitting down on the grass, and placing him in her lap as + before. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I do, well enough,” answered Diamond; “but I never just quite + liked that rhyme.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, child?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it seems to say one's as good as another, or two new ones are + better than one that's lost. I've been thinking about it a great deal, and + it seems to me that although any one sixpence is as good as any other + sixpence, not twenty lambs would do instead of one sheep whose face you + knew. Somehow, when once you've looked into anybody's eyes, right deep + down into them, I mean, nobody will do for that one any more. Nobody, ever + so beautiful or so good, will make up for that one going out of sight. So + you see, North Wind, I can't help being frightened to think that perhaps I + am only dreaming, and you are nowhere at all. Do tell me that you are my + own, real, beautiful North Wind.” + </p> + <p> + Again she rose, and shot herself into the air, as if uneasy because she + could not answer him; and Diamond lay quiet in her arms, waiting for what + she would say. He tried to see up into her face, for he was dreadfully + afraid she was not answering him because she could not say that she was + not a dream; but she had let her hair fall all over her face so that he + could not see it. This frightened him still more. + </p> + <p> + “Do speak, North Wind,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “I never speak when I have nothing to say,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then I do think you must be a real North Wind, and no dream,” said + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “But I'm looking for something to say all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't want you to say what's hard to find. If you were to say one + word to comfort me that wasn't true, then I should know you must be a + dream, for a great beautiful lady like you could never tell a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “But she mightn't know how to say what she had to say, so that a little + boy like you would understand it,” said North Wind. “Here, let us get down + again, and I will try to tell you what I think. You musn't suppose I am + able to answer all your questions, though. There are a great many things I + don't understand more than you do.” + </p> + <p> + She descended on a grassy hillock, in the midst of a wild furzy common. + There was a rabbit-warren underneath, and some of the rabbits came out of + their holes, in the moonlight, looking very sober and wise, just like + patriarchs standing in their tent-doors, and looking about them before + going to bed. When they saw North Wind, instead of turning round and + vanishing again with a thump of their heels, they cantered slowly up to + her and snuffled all about her with their long upper lips, which moved + every way at once. That was their way of kissing her; and, as she talked + to Diamond, she would every now and then stroke down their furry backs, or + lift and play with their long ears. They would, Diamond thought, have + leaped upon her lap, but that he was there already. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said she, after they had been sitting silent for a while, “that + if I were only a dream, you would not have been able to love me so. You + love me when you are not with me, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do,” answered Diamond, stroking her hand. “I see! I see! How + could I be able to love you as I do if you weren't there at all, you know? + Besides, I couldn't be able to dream anything half so beautiful all out of + my own head; or if I did, I couldn't love a fancy of my own like that, + could I?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not. You might have loved me in a dream, dreamily, and forgotten + me when you woke, I daresay, but not loved me like a real being as you + love me. Even then, I don't think you could dream anything that hadn't + something real like it somewhere. But you've seen me in many shapes, + Diamond: you remember I was a wolf once—don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes—a good wolf that frightened a naughty drunken nurse.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose I were to turn ugly, would you rather I weren't a dream + then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; for I should know that you were beautiful inside all the same. You + would love me, and I should love you all the same. I shouldn't like you to + look ugly, you know. But I shouldn't believe it a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if you saw it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not if I saw it ever so plain.” + </p> + <p> + “There's my Diamond! I will tell you all I know about it then. I don't + think I am just what you fancy me to be. I have to shape myself various + ways to various people. But the heart of me is true. People call me by + dreadful names, and think they know all about me. But they don't. + Sometimes they call me Bad Fortune, sometimes Evil Chance, sometimes Ruin; + and they have another name for me which they think the most dreadful of + all.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” asked Diamond, smiling up in her face. + </p> + <p> + “I won't tell you that name. Do you remember having to go through me to + get into the country at my back?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I do. How cold you were, North Wind! and so white, all but your + lovely eyes! My heart grew like a lump of ice, and then I forgot for a + while.” + </p> + <p> + “You were very near knowing what they call me then. Would you be afraid of + me if you had to go through me again?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Why should I? Indeed I should be glad enough, if it was only to get + another peep of the country at your back.” + </p> + <p> + “You've never seen it yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't I, North Wind? Oh! I'm so sorry! I thought I had. What did I see + then?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a picture of it. The real country at my real back is ever so much + more beautiful than that. You shall see it one day—perhaps before + very long.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they sing songs there?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you remember the dream you had about the little boys that dug for + the stars?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that I do. I thought you must have had something to do with that + dream, it was so beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I gave you that dream.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! thank you. Did you give Nanny her dream too—about the moon and + the bees?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I was the lady that sat at the window of the moon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you. I was almost sure you had something to do with that too. + And did you tell Mr. Raymond the story about the Princess Daylight?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I had something to do with it. At all events he thought about + it one night when he couldn't sleep. But I want to ask you whether you + remember the song the boy-angels sang in that dream of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I couldn't keep it, do what I would, and I did try.” + </p> + <p> + “That was my fault.” + </p> + <p> + “How could that be, North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I didn't know it properly myself, and so I couldn't teach it to + you. I could only make a rough guess at something like what it would be, + and so I wasn't able to make you dream it hard enough to remember it. Nor + would I have done so if I could, for it was not correct. I made you dream + pictures of it, though. But you will hear the very song itself when you do + get to the back of——” + </p> + <p> + “My own dear North Wind,” said Diamond, finishing the sentence for her, + and kissing the arm that held him leaning against her. + </p> + <p> + “And now we've settled all this—for the time, at least,” said North + Wind. + </p> + <p> + “But I can't feel quite sure yet,” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “You must wait a while for that. Meantime you may be hopeful, and content + not to be quite sure. Come now, I will take you home again, for it won't + do to tire you too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no. I'm not the least tired,” pleaded Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “It is better, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; if you wish it,” yielded Diamond with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “You are a dear good, boy” said North Wind. “I will come for you again + to-morrow night and take you out for a longer time. We shall make a little + journey together, in fact, we shall start earlier, and as the moon will be + later, we shall have a little moonlight all the way.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, and swept over the meadow and the trees. In a few moments the + Mound appeared below them. She sank a little, and floated in at the window + of Diamond's room. There she laid him on his bed, covered him over, and in + a moment he was lapt in a dreamless sleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII. ONCE MORE + </h2> + <p> + THE next night Diamond was seated by his open window, with his head on his + hand, rather tired, but so eagerly waiting for the promised visit that he + was afraid he could not sleep. But he started suddenly, and found that he + had been already asleep. He rose, and looking out of the window saw + something white against his beech-tree. It was North Wind. She was holding + by one hand to a top branch. Her hair and her garments went floating away + behind her over the tree, whose top was swaying about while the others + were still. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready, Diamond?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Diamond, “quite ready.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment she was at the window, and her arms came in and took him. She + sailed away so swiftly that he could at first mark nothing but the speed + with which the clouds above and the dim earth below went rushing past. But + soon he began to see that the sky was very lovely, with mottled clouds all + about the moon, on which she threw faint colours like those of + mother-of-pearl, or an opal. The night was warm, and in the lady's arms he + did not feel the wind which down below was making waves in the ripe corn, + and ripples on the rivers and lakes. At length they descended on the side + of an open earthy hill, just where, from beneath a stone, a spring came + bubbling out. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to take you along this little brook,” said North Wind. “I am + not wanted for anything else to-night, so I can give you a treat.” + </p> + <p> + She stooped over the stream and holding Diamond down close to the surface + of it, glided along level with its flow as it ran down the hill. And the + song of the brook came up into Diamond's ears, and grew and grew and + changed with every turn. It seemed to Diamond to be singing the story of + its life to him. And so it was. It began with a musical tinkle which + changed to a babble and then to a gentle rushing. Sometimes its song would + almost cease, and then break out again, tinkle, babble, and rush, all at + once. At the bottom of the hill they came to a small river, into which the + brook flowed with a muffled but merry sound. Along the surface of the + river, darkly clear below them in the moonlight, they floated; now, where + it widened out into a little lake, they would hover for a moment over a + bed of water-lilies, and watch them swing about, folded in sleep, as the + water on which they leaned swayed in the presence of North Wind; and now + they would watch the fishes asleep among their roots below. Sometimes she + would hold Diamond over a deep hollow curving into the bank, that he might + look far into the cool stillness. Sometimes she would leave the river and + sweep across a clover-field. The bees were all at home, and the clover was + asleep. Then she would return and follow the river. It grew wider and + wider as it went. Now the armies of wheat and of oats would hang over its + rush from the opposite banks; now the willows would dip low branches in + its still waters; and now it would lead them through stately trees and + grassy banks into a lovely garden, where the roses and lilies were asleep, + the tender flowers quite folded up, and only a few wide-awake and sending + out their life in sweet, strong odours. Wider and wider grew the stream, + until they came upon boats lying along its banks, which rocked a little in + the flutter of North Wind's garments. Then came houses on the banks, each + standing in a lovely lawn, with grand trees; and in parts the river was so + high that some of the grass and the roots of some of the trees were under + water, and Diamond, as they glided through between the stems, could see + the grass at the bottom of the water. Then they would leave the river and + float about and over the houses, one after another—beautiful rich + houses, which, like fine trees, had taken centuries to grow. There was + scarcely a light to be seen, and not a movement to be heard: all the + people in them lay fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + “What a lot of dreams they must be dreaming!” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” returned North Wind. “They can't surely be all lies—can + they?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think it depends a little on who dreams them,” suggested + Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said North Wind. “The people who think lies, and do lies, are very + likely to dream lies. But the people who love what is true will surely now + and then dream true things. But then something depends on whether the + dreams are home-grown, or whether the seed of them is blown over somebody + else's garden-wall. Ah! there's some one awake in this house!” + </p> + <p> + They were floating past a window in which a light was burning. Diamond + heard a moan, and looked up anxiously in North Wind's face. + </p> + <p> + “It's a lady,” said North Wind. “She can't sleep for pain.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you do something for her?” said Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't. But you could.” + </p> + <p> + “What could I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Sing a little song to her.” + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn't hear me.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take you in, and then she will hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “But that would be rude, wouldn't it? You can go where you please, of + course, but I should have no business in her room.” + </p> + <p> + “You may trust me, Diamond. I shall take as good care of the lady as of + you. The window is open. Come.” + </p> + <p> + By a shaded lamp, a lady was seated in a white wrapper, trying to read, + but moaning every minute. North Wind floated behind her chair, set Diamond + down, and told him to sing something. He was a little frightened, but he + thought a while, and then sang:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The sun is gone down, + And the moon's in the sky; + But the sun will come up, + And the moon be laid by. + + The flower is asleep + But it is not dead; + When the morning shines, + It will lift its head. + + When winter comes, + It will die—no, no; + It will only hide + From the frost and the snow. + + Sure is the summer, + Sure is the sun; + The night and the winter + Are shadows that run. +</pre> + <p> + The lady never lifted her eyes from her book, or her head from her hand. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Diamond had finished, North Wind lifted him and carried him + away. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't the lady hear me?” asked Diamond when they were once more floating + down the river. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, she heard you,” answered North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Was she frightened then?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't she look to see who it was?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn't know you were there.” + </p> + <p> + “How could she hear me then?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn't hear you with her ears.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she hear me with?” + </p> + <p> + “With her heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did she think the words came from?” + </p> + <p> + “She thought they came out of the book she was reading. She will search + all through it to-morrow to find them, and won't be able to understand it + at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what fun!” said Diamond. “What will she do?” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you what she won't do: she'll never forget the meaning of + them; and she'll never be able to remember the words of them.” + </p> + <p> + “If she sees them in Mr. Raymond's book, it will puzzle her, won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that it will. She will never be able to understand it.” + </p> + <p> + “Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” suggested Diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” assented the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Diamond, “I know now where we are. Oh! do let me go into the + old garden, and into mother's room, and Diamond's stall. I wonder if the + hole is at the back of my bed still. I should like to stay there all the + rest of the night. It won't take you long to get home from here, will it, + North Wind?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered; “you shall stay as long as you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how jolly,” cried Diamond, as North Wind sailed over the house with + him, and set him down on the lawn at the back. + </p> + <p> + Diamond ran about the lawn for a little while in the moonlight. He found + part of it cut up into flower-beds, and the little summer-house with the + coloured glass and the great elm-tree gone. He did not like this, and ran + into the stable. There were no horses there at all. He ran upstairs. The + rooms were empty. The only thing left that he cared about was the hole in + the wall where his little bed had stood; and that was not enough to make + him wish to stop. He ran down the stair again, and out upon the lawn. + There he threw himself down and began to cry. It was all so dreary and + lost! + </p> + <p> + “I thought I liked the place so much,” said Diamond to himself, “but I + find I don't care about it. I suppose it's only the people in it that make + you like a place, and when they're gone, it's dead, and you don't care a + bit about it. North Wind told me I might stop as long as I liked, and I've + stopped longer already. North Wind!” he cried aloud, turning his face + towards the sky. + </p> + <p> + The moon was under a cloud, and all was looking dull and dismal. A star + shot from the sky, and fell in the grass beside him. The moment it + lighted, there stood North Wind. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Diamond, joyfully, “were you the shooting star?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my child.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear me call you then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “So high up as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I heard you quite well.” + </p> + <p> + “Do take me home.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you had enough of your old home already?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, more than enough. It isn't a home at all now.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought that would be it,” said North Wind. “Everything, dreaming and + all, has got a soul in it, or else it's worth nothing, and we don't care a + bit about it. Some of our thoughts are worth nothing, because they've got + no soul in them. The brain puts them into the mind, not the mind into the + brain.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you know about that, North Wind? You haven't got a body.” + </p> + <p> + “If I hadn't you wouldn't know anything about me. No creature can know + another without the help of a body. But I don't care to talk about that. + It is time for you to go home.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, North Wind lifted Diamond and bore him away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + </h2> + <p> + I DID not see Diamond for a week or so after this, and then he told me + what I have now told you. I should have been astonished at his being able + even to report such conversations as he said he had had with North Wind, + had I not known already that some children are profound in metaphysics. + But a fear crosses me, lest, by telling so much about my friend, I should + lead people to mistake him for one of those consequential, priggish little + monsters, who are always trying to say clever things, and looking to see + whether people appreciate them. When a child like that dies, instead of + having a silly book written about him, he should be stuffed like one of + those awful big-headed fishes you see in museums. But Diamond never + troubled his head about what people thought of him. He never set up for + knowing better than others. The wisest things he said came out when he + wanted one to help him with some difficulty he was in. He was not even + offended with Nanny and Jim for calling him a silly. He supposed there was + something in it, though he could not quite understand what. I suspect + however that the other name they gave him, God's Baby, had some share in + reconciling him to it. + </p> + <p> + Happily for me, I was as much interested in metaphysics as Diamond + himself, and therefore, while he recounted his conversations with North + Wind, I did not find myself at all in a strange sea, although certainly I + could not always feel the bottom, being indeed convinced that the bottom + was miles away. + </p> + <p> + “Could it be all dreaming, do you think, sir?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I daren't say, Diamond,” I answered. “But at least there is one thing you + may be sure of, that there is a still better love than that of the + wonderful being you call North Wind. Even if she be a dream, the dream of + such a beautiful creature could not come to you by chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” returned Diamond; “I know.” + </p> + <p> + Then he was silent, but, I confess, appeared more thoughtful than + satisfied. + </p> + <p> + The next time I saw him, he looked paler than usual. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen your friend again?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Did she take you out with her?” + </p> + <p> + “No. She did not speak to me. I woke all at once, as I generally do when I + am going to see her, and there she was against the door into the big room, + sitting just as I saw her sit on her own doorstep, as white as snow, and + her eyes as blue as the heart of an iceberg. She looked at me, but never + moved or spoke.” + </p> + <p> + “Weren't you afraid?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “No. Why should I have been?” he answered. “I only felt a little cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she stay long?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I fell asleep again. I think I have been rather cold ever + since though,” he added with a smile. + </p> + <p> + I did not quite like this, but I said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Four days after, I called again at the Mound. The maid who opened the door + looked grave, but I suspected nothing. When I reached the drawing-room, I + saw Mrs. Raymond had been crying. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you heard?” she said, seeing my questioning looks. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard nothing,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “This morning we found our dear little Diamond lying on the floor of the + big attic-room, just outside his own door—fast asleep, as we + thought. But when we took him up, we did not think he was asleep. We saw + that——” + </p> + <p> + Here the kind-hearted lady broke out crying afresh. + </p> + <p> + “May I go and see him?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she sobbed. “You know your way to the top of the tower.” + </p> + <p> + I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as + white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at + once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to the + back of the north wind. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's At the Back of the North Wind, by George MacDonald + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND *** + +***** This file should be named 225-h.htm or 225-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/225/ + +Produced by Martin Ward, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +BY GEORGE MAC DONALD + +Author of "Dealings with Fairies," "Ranald Bannerman," etc., etc. + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE HAY-LOFT + + +I HAVE been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind. +An old Greek writer mentions a people who lived there, +and were so comfortable that they could not bear it any longer, +and drowned themselves. My story is not the same as his. +I do not think Herodotus had got the right account of the place. +I am going to tell you how it fared with a boy who went there. + +He lived in a low room over a coach-house; and that was not by any +means at the back of the north wind, as his mother very well knew. +For one side of the room was built only of boards, and the boards were +so old that you might run a penknife through into the north wind. +And then let them settle between them which was the sharper! +I know that when you pulled it out again the wind would be after it +like a cat after a mouse, and you would know soon enough you were not +at the back of the north wind. Still, this room was not very cold, +except when the north wind blew stronger than usual: the room I +have to do with now was always cold, except in summer, when the sun +took the matter into his own hands. Indeed, I am not sure whether +I ought to call it a room at all; for it was just a loft where they +kept hay and straw and oats for the horses. + +And when little Diamond--but stop: I must tell you that his father, +who was a coachman, had named him after a favourite horse, +and his mother had had no objection:--when little Diamond, then, +lay there in bed, he could hear the horses under him munching away +in the dark, or moving sleepily in their dreams. For Diamond's +father had built him a bed in the loft with boards all round it, +because they had so little room in their own end over the coach-house; +and Diamond's father put old Diamond in the stall under the bed, +because he was a quiet horse, and did not go to sleep standing, +but lay down like a reasonable creature. But, although he was +a surprisingly reasonable creature, yet, when young Diamond woke +in the middle of the night, and felt the bed shaking in the blasts +of the north wind, he could not help wondering whether, if the wind +should blow the house down, and he were to fall through into the manger, +old Diamond mightn't eat him up before he knew him in his night-gown. +And although old Diamond was very quiet all night long, yet when he +woke he got up like an earthquake, and then young Diamond knew what +o'clock it was, or at least what was to be done next, which was-- +to go to sleep again as fast as he could. + +There was hay at his feet and hay at his head, piled up in great +trusses to the very roof. Indeed it was sometimes only through +a little lane with several turnings, which looked as if it +had been sawn out for him, that he could reach his bed at all. +For the stock of hay was, of course, always in a state either of slow +ebb or of sudden flow. Sometimes the whole space of the loft, +with the little panes in the roof for the stars to look in, would lie +open before his open eyes as he lay in bed; sometimes a yellow +wall of sweet-smelling fibres closed up his view at the distance +of half a yard. Sometimes, when his mother had undressed him +in her room, and told him to trot to bed by himself, he would creep +into the heart of the hay, and lie there thinking how cold it was +outside in the wind, and how warm it was inside there in his bed, +and how he could go to it when he pleased, only he wouldn't just yet; +he would get a little colder first. And ever as he grew colder, +his bed would grow warmer, till at last he would scramble out +of the hay, shoot like an arrow into his bed, cover himself up, +and snuggle down, thinking what a happy boy he was. He had not +the least idea that the wind got in at a chink in the wall, and blew +about him all night. For the back of his bed was only of boards +an inch thick, and on the other side of them was the north wind. + +Now, as I have already said, these boards were soft and crumbly. +To be sure, they were tarred on the outside, yet in many places they +were more like tinder than timber. Hence it happened that the soft +part having worn away from about it, little Diamond found one night, +after he lay down, that a knot had come out of one of them, and that the +wind was blowing in upon him in a cold and rather imperious fashion. +Now he had no fancy for leaving things wrong that might be set right; +so he jumped out of bed again, got a little strike of hay, twisted it up, +folded it in the middle, and, having thus made it into a cork, +stuck it into the hole in the wall. But the wind began to blow loud +and angrily, and, as Diamond was falling asleep, out blew his cork +and hit him on the nose, just hard enough to wake him up quite, +and let him hear the wind whistling shrill in the hole. He searched +for his hay-cork, found it, stuck it in harder, and was just dropping +off once more, when, pop! with an angry whistle behind it, the cork +struck him again, this time on the cheek. Up he rose once more, +made a fresh stopple of hay, and corked the hole severely. +But he was hardly down again before--pop! it came on his forehead. +He gave it up, drew the clothes above his head, and was soon +fast asleep. + +Although the next day was very stormy, Diamond forgot all about +the hole, for he was busy making a cave by the side of his mother's +fire with a broken chair, a three-legged stool, and a blanket, +and then sitting in it. His mother, however, discovered it, +and pasted a bit of brown paper over it, so that, when Diamond had +snuggled down the next night, he had no occasion to think of it. + +Presently, however, he lifted his head and listened. Who could that +be talking to him? The wind was rising again, and getting very loud, +and full of rushes and whistles. He was sure some one was talking-- +and very near him, too, it was. But he was not frightened, +for he had not yet learned how to be; so he sat up and hearkened. +At last the voice, which, though quite gentle, sounded a little angry, +appeared to come from the back of the bed. He crept nearer to it, +and laid his ear against the wall. Then he heard nothing but the wind, +which sounded very loud indeed. The moment, however, that he moved +his head from the wall, he heard the voice again, close to his ear. +He felt about with his hand, and came upon the piece of paper his +mother had pasted over the hole. Against this he laid his ear, +and then he heard the voice quite distinctly. There was, in fact, +a little corner of the paper loose, and through that, as from a mouth +in the wall, the voice came. + +"What do you mean, little boy--closing up my window?" + +"What window?" asked Diamond. + +"You stuffed hay into it three times last night. I had to blow it +out again three times." + +"You can't mean this little hole! It isn't a window; it's a hole +in my bed." + +"I did not say it was a window: I said it was my window." + +"But it can't be a window, because windows are holes to see out of." + +"Well, that's just what I made this window for." + +"But you are outside: you can't want a window." + +"You are quite mistaken. Windows are to see out of, you say. +Well, I'm in my house, and I want windows to see out of it." + +"But you've made a window into my bed." + +"Well, your mother has got three windows into my dancing room, +and you have three into my garret." + +"But I heard father say, when my mother wanted him to make a window +through the wall, that it was against the law, for it would look +into Mr. Dyves's garden." + +The voice laughed. + +"The law would have some trouble to catch me!" it said. + +"But if it's not right, you know," said Diamond, "that's no matter. +You shouldn't do it." + +"I am so tall I am above that law," said the voice. + +"You must have a tall house, then," said Diamond. + +"Yes; a tall house: the clouds are inside it." + +"Dear me!" said Diamond, and thought a minute. "I think, then, +you can hardly expect me to keep a window in my bed for you. +Why don't you make a window into Mr. Dyves's bed?" + +"Nobody makes a window into an ash-pit," said the voice, rather sadly. +"I like to see nice things out of my windows." + +"But he must have a nicer bed than I have, though mine is very nice-- +so nice that I couldn't wish a better." + +"It's not the bed I care about: it's what is in it.--But you +just open that window." + +"Well, mother says I shouldn't be disobliging; but it's rather hard. +You see the north wind will blow right in my face if I do." + +"I am the North Wind." + +"O-o-oh!" said Diamond, thoughtfully. "Then will you promise +not to blow on my face if I open your window?" + +"I can't promise that." + +"But you'll give me the toothache. Mother's got it already." + +"But what's to become of me without a window?" + +"I'm sure I don't know. All I say is, it will be worse for me +than for you." + +"No; it will not. You shall not be the worse for it--I promise you that. +You will be much the better for it. Just you believe what I say, +and do as I tell you." + +"Well, I can pull the clothes over my head," said Diamond, +and feeling with his little sharp nails, he got hold of the open +edge of the paper and tore it off at once. + +In came a long whistling spear of cold, and struck his little +naked chest. He scrambled and tumbled in under the bedclothes, +and covered himself up: there was no paper now between him and the voice, +and he felt a little--not frightened exactly--I told you he had not +learned that yet--but rather queer; for what a strange person this +North Wind must be that lived in the great house--"called Out-of-Doors, +I suppose," thought Diamond--and made windows into people's beds! +But the voice began again; and he could hear it quite plainly, +even with his head under the bed-clothes. It was a still more gentle +voice now, although six times as large and loud as it had been, +and he thought it sounded a little like his mother's. + +"What is your name, little boy?" it asked. + +"Diamond," answered Diamond, under the bed-clothes. + +"What a funny name!" + +"It's a very nice name," returned its owner. + +"I don't know that," said the voice. + +"Well, I do," retorted Diamond, a little rudely. + +"Do you know to whom you are speaking!" + +"No," said Diamond. + +And indeed he did not. For to know a person's name is not always +to know the person's self. + +"Then I must not be angry with you.--You had better look and see, though." + +"Diamond is a very pretty name," persisted the boy, vexed that it +should not give satisfaction. + +"Diamond is a useless thing rather," said the voice. + +"That's not true. Diamond is very nice--as big as two--and so +quiet all night! And doesn't he make a jolly row in the morning, +getting upon his four great legs! It's like thunder." + +"You don't seem to know what a diamond is." + +"Oh, don't I just! Diamond is a great and good horse; +and he sleeps right under me. He is old Diamond, and I am +young Diamond; or, if you like it better, for you're very particular, +Mr. North Wind, he's big Diamond, and I'm little Diamond; +and I don't know which of us my father likes best." + +A beautiful laugh, large but very soft and musical, sounded somewhere +beside him, but Diamond kept his head under the clothes. + +"I'm not Mr. North Wind," said the voice. + +"You told me that you were the North Wind," insisted Diamond. + +"I did not say Mister North Wind," said the voice. + +"Well, then, I do; for mother tells me I ought to be polite." + +"Then let me tell you I don't think it at all polite of you to say +Mister to me." + +"Well, I didn't know better. I'm very sorry." + +"But you ought to know better." + +"I don't know that." + +"I do. You can't say it's polite to lie there talking--with your +head under the bed-clothes, and never look up to see what kind +of person you are talking to.--I want you to come out with me." + +"I want to go to sleep," said Diamond, very nearly crying, for he +did not like to be scolded, even when he deserved it. + +"You shall sleep all the better to-morrow night." + +"Besides," said Diamond, "you are out in Mr. Dyves's garden, +and I can't get there. I can only get into our own yard." + +"Will you take your head out of the bed-clothes?" said the voice, +just a little angrily. + +"No!" answered Diamond, half peevish, half frightened. + +The instant he said the word, a tremendous blast of wind crashed +in a board of the wall, and swept the clothes off Diamond. +He started up in terror. Leaning over him was the large, beautiful, +pale face of a woman. Her dark eyes looked a little angry, +for they had just begun to flash; but a quivering in her sweet +upper lip made her look as if she were going to cry. What was +the most strange was that away from her head streamed out her black +hair in every direction, so that the darkness in the hay-loft +looked as if it were made of her, hair but as Diamond gazed at her +in speechless amazement, mingled with confidence--for the boy was +entranced with her mighty beauty--her hair began to gather itself +out of the darkness, and fell down all about her again, till her +face looked out of the midst of it like a moon out of a cloud. +From her eyes came all the light by which Diamond saw her face and her, +hair; and that was all he did see of her yet. The wind was over and gone. + +"Will you go with me now, you little Diamond? I am sorry I was +forced to be so rough with you," said the lady. + +"I will; yes, I will," answered Diamond, holding out both his arms. +"But," he added, dropping them, "how shall I get my clothes? +They are in mother's room, and the door is locked." + +"Oh, never mind your clothes. You will not be cold. I shall take +care of that. Nobody is cold with the north wind." + +"I thought everybody was," said Diamond. + +"That is a great mistake. Most people make it, however. They are +cold because they are not with the north wind, but without it." + +If Diamond had been a little older, and had supposed himself +a good deal wiser, he would have thought the lady was joking. +But he was not older, and did not fancy himself wiser, and therefore +understood her well enough. Again he stretched out his arms. +The lady's face drew back a little. + +"Follow me, Diamond," she said. + +"Yes," said Diamond, only a little ruefully. + +"You're not afraid?" said the North Wind. + +"No, ma'am; but mother never would let me go without shoes: +she never said anything about clothes, so I dare say she wouldn't +mind that." + +"I know your mother very well," said the lady. "She is a good woman. +I have visited her often. I was with her when you were born. +I saw her laugh and cry both at once. I love your mother, Diamond." + +"How was it you did not know my name, then, ma'am? Please am I +to say ma'am to you, ma'am?" + +"One question at a time, dear boy. I knew your name quite well, +but I wanted to hear what you would say for it. Don't you remember +that day when the man was finding fault with your name--how I blew +the window in?" + +"Yes, yes," answered Diamond, eagerly. "Our window opens like a door, +right over the coach-house door. And the wind--you, ma'am--came in, +and blew the Bible out of the man's hands, and the leaves went +all flutter, flutter on the floor, and my mother picked it up +and gave it back to him open, and there----" + +"Was your name in the Bible--the sixth stone in the high +priest's breastplate." + +"Oh!--a stone, was it?" said Diamond. "I thought it had been a horse-- +I did." + +"Never mind. A horse is better than a stone any day. Well, you see, +I know all about you and your mother." + +"Yes. I will go with you." + +"Now for the next question: you're not to call me ma'am. You must +call me just my own name--respectfully, you know--just North Wind." + +"Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready +to go with you." + +"You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all +at once, Diamond." + +"But what's beautiful can't be bad. You're not bad, North Wind?" + +"No; I'm not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing bad, +and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. +So little boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they +are beautiful." + +"Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good, too." + +"Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond:--What if I should look +ugly without being bad--look ugly myself because I am making ugly +things beautiful?--What then?" + +"I don't quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then." + +"Well, I will tell you. If you see me with my face all black, +don't be frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big +as the whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times +worse than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith's wife--even if you see me looking +in at people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife-- +you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change +into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, +for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. +If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when +you look at me and can't see me the least like the North Wind. +I may look something very awful. Do you understand?" + +"Quite well," said little Diamond. + +"Come along, then," said North Wind, and disappeared behind +the mountain of hay. + +Diamond crept out of bed and followed her. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE LAWN + + +WHEN Diamond got round the corner of the hay, for a moment he hesitated. +The stair by which he would naturally have gone down to the door +was at the other side of the loft, and looked very black indeed; +for it was full of North Wind's hair, as she descended before him. +And just beside him was the ladder going straight down into the stable, +up which his father always came to fetch the hay for Diamond's dinner. +Through the opening in the floor the faint gleam of the-stable lantern +was enticing, and Diamond thought he would run down that way. + +The stair went close past the loose-box in which Diamond the horse lived. +When Diamond the boy was half-way down, he remembered that it +was of no use to go this way, for the stable-door was locked. +But at the same moment there was horse Diamond's great head +poked out of his box on to the ladder, for he knew boy Diamond +although he was in his night-gown, and wanted him to pull his +ears for him. This Diamond did very gently for a minute or so, +and patted and stroked his neck too, and kissed the big horse, +and had begun to take the bits of straw and hay out of his mane, +when all at once he recollected that the Lady North Wind was waiting +for him in the yard. + +"Good night, Diamond," he said, and darted up the ladder, +across the loft, and down the stair to the door. But when he +got out into the yard, there was no lady. + +Now it is always a dreadful thing to think there is somebody and +find nobody. Children in particular have not made up their minds to it; +they generally cry at nobody, especially when they wake up at night. +But it was an especial disappointment to Diamond, for his little heart +had been beating with joy: the face of the North Wind was so grand! +To have a lady like that for a friend--with such long hair, too! +Why, it was longer than twenty Diamonds' tails! She was gone. +And there he stood, with his bare feet on the stones of the paved yard. + +It was a clear night overhead, and the stars were shining. +Orion in particular was making the most of his bright belt +and golden sword. But the moon was only a poor thin crescent. +There was just one great, jagged, black and gray cloud in the sky, +with a steep side to it like a precipice; and the moon was against +this side, and looked as if she had tumbled off the top of the +cloud-hill, and broken herself in rolling down the precipice. +She did not seem comfortable, for she was looking down into the +deep pit waiting for her. At least that was what Diamond thought +as he stood for a moment staring at her. But he was quite wrong, +for the moon was not afraid, and there was no pit she was going +down into, for there were no sides to it, and a pit without sides +to it is not a pit at all. Diamond, however, had not been out so late +before in all his life, and things looked so strange about him!-- +just as if he had got into Fairyland, of which he knew quite as much +as anybody; for his mother had no money to buy books to set him +wrong on the subject. I have seen this world--only sometimes, +just now and then, you know--look as strange as ever I saw Fairyland. +But I confess that I have not yet seen Fairyland at its best. +I am always going to see it so some time. But if you had been out +in the face and not at the back of the North Wind, on a cold rather +frosty night, and in your night-gown, you would have felt it all +quite as strange as Diamond did. He cried a little, just a little, +he was so disappointed to lose the lady: of course, you, little man, +wouldn't have done that! But for my part, I don't mind people +crying so much as I mind what they cry about, and how they cry-- +whether they cry quietly like ladies and gentlemen, or go shrieking +like vulgar emperors, or ill-natured cooks; for all emperors are +not gentlemen, and all cooks are not ladies--nor all queens and +princesses for that matter, either. + +But it can't be denied that a little gentle crying does one good. +It did Diamond good; for as soon as it was over he was a brave +boy again. + +"She shan't say it was my fault, anyhow!" said Diamond. "I daresay +she is hiding somewhere to see what I will do. I will look for her." + +So he went round the end of the stable towards the kitchen-garden. +But the moment he was clear of the shelter of the stable, sharp as +a knife came the wind against his little chest and his bare legs. +Still he would look in the kitchen-garden, and went on. +But when he got round the weeping-ash that stood in the corner, +the wind blew much stronger, and it grew stronger and stronger +till he could hardly fight against it. And it was so cold! +All the flashy spikes of the stars seemed to have got somehow +into the wind. Then he thought of what the lady had said about +people being cold because they were not with the North Wind. +How it was that he should have guessed what she meant at that very +moment I cannot tell, but I have observed that the most wonderful +thing in the world is how people come to understand anything. +He turned his back to the wind, and trotted again towards the yard; +whereupon, strange to say, it blew so much more gently against his +calves than it had blown against his shins that he began to feel +almost warm by contrast. + +You must not think it was cowardly of Diamond to turn his back +to the wind: he did so only because he thought Lady North Wind +had said something like telling him to do so. If she had said +to him that he must hold his face to it, Diamond would have held +his face to it. But the most foolish thing is to fight for no good, +and to please nobody. + +Well, it was just as if the wind was pushing Diamond along. +If he turned round, it grew very sharp on his legs especially, +and so he thought the wind might really be Lady North Wind, though he +could not see her, and he had better let her blow him wherever +she pleased. So she blew and blew, and he went and went, until he +found himself standing at a door in a wall, which door led from the +yard into a little belt of shrubbery, flanking Mr. Coleman's house. +Mr. Coleman was his father's master, and the owner of Diamond. +He opened the door, and went through the shrubbery, and out +into the middle of the lawn, still hoping to find North Wind. +The soft grass was very pleasant to his bare feet, and felt warm +after the stones of the yard; but the lady was nowhere to be seen. +Then he began to think that after all he must have done wrong, +and she was offended with him for not following close after her, +but staying to talk to the horse, which certainly was neither wise +nor polite. + +There he stood in the middle of the lawn, the wind blowing his +night-gown till it flapped like a loose sail. The stars were very +shiny over his head; but they did not give light enough to show that +the grass was green; and Diamond stood alone in the strange night, +which looked half solid all about him. He began to wonder whether +he was in a dream or not. It was important to determine this; +"for," thought Diamond, "if I am in a dream, I am safe in my bed, +and I needn't cry. But if I'm not in a dream, I'm out here, and perhaps +I had better cry, or, at least, I'm not sure whether I can help it." +He came to the conclusion, however, that, whether he was in a dream +or not, there could be no harm in not crying for a little while longer: +he could begin whenever he liked. + +The back of Mr. Coleman's house was to the lawn, and one of the +drawing-room windows looked out upon it. The ladies had not +gone to bed; for the light was still shining in that window. +But they had no idea that a little boy was standing on the lawn +in his night-gown, or they would have run out in a moment. And as +long as he saw that light, Diamond could not feel quite lonely. +He stood staring, not at the great warrior Orion in the sky, +nor yet at the disconsolate, neglected moon going down in the west, +but at the drawing-room window with the light shining through its +green curtains. He had been in that room once or twice that he could +remember at Christmas times; for the Colemans were kind people, +though they did not care much about children. + +All at once the light went nearly out: he could only see a glimmer +of the shape of the window. Then, indeed, he felt that he was +left alone. It was so dreadful to be out in the night after +everybody was gone to bed! That was more than he could bear. +He burst out crying in good earnest, beginning with a wail +like that of the wind when it is waking up. + +Perhaps you think this was very foolish; for could he not go home +to his own bed again when he liked? Yes; but it looked dreadful +to him to creep up that stair again and lie down in his bed again, +and know that North Wind's window was open beside him, and she gone, +and he might never see her again. He would be just as lonely there +as here. Nay, it would be much worse if he had to think that the +window was nothing but a hole in the wall. + +At the very moment when he burst out crying, the old nurse who had +grown to be one of the family, for she had not gone away when Miss +Coleman did not want any more nursing, came to the back door, +which was of glass, to close the shutters. She thought she heard +a cry, and, peering out with a hand on each side of her eyes +like Diamond's blinkers, she saw something white on the lawn. +Too old and too wise to be frightened, she opened the door, +and went straight towards the white thing to see what it was. +And when Diamond saw her coming he was not frightened either, +though Mrs. Crump was a little cross sometimes; for there is +a good kind of crossness that is only disagreeable, and there is +a bad kind of crossness that is very nasty indeed. So she came +up with her neck stretched out, and her head at the end of it, +and her eyes foremost of all, like a snail's, peering into the night +to see what it could be that went on glimmering white before her. +When she did see, she made a great exclamation, and threw up +her hands. Then without a word, for she thought Diamond was walking +in his sleep, she caught hold of him, and led him towards the house. +He made no objection, for he was just in the mood to be grateful +for notice of any sort, and Mrs. Crump led him straight into the +drawing-room. + +Now, from the neglect of the new housemaid, the fire in Miss +Coleman's bedroom had gone out, and her mother had told her to brush +her hair by the drawing-room fire--a disorderly proceeding which +a mother's wish could justify. The young lady was very lovely, +though not nearly so beautiful as North Wind; and her hair was +extremely long, for it came down to her knees--though that was +nothing at all to North Wind's hair. Yet when she looked round, +with her hair all about her, as Diamond entered, he thought +for one moment that it was North Wind, and, pulling his hand from +Mrs. Crump's, he stretched out his arms and ran towards Miss Coleman. +She was so pleased that she threw down her brush, and almost knelt +on the floor to receive him in her arms. He saw the next moment +that she was not Lady North Wind, but she looked so like her he could +not help running into her arms and bursting into tears afresh. +Mrs. Crump said the poor child had walked out in his sleep, and Diamond +thought she ought to know, and did not contradict her for anything +he knew, it might be so indeed. He let them talk on about him, +and said nothing; and when, after their astonishment was over, +and Miss Coleman had given him a sponge-cake, it was decreed +that Mrs. Crump should take him to his mother, he was quite satisfied. + +His mother had to get out of bed to open the door when Mrs. Crump +knocked. She was indeed surprised to see her, boy; and having +taken him in her arms and carried him to his bed, returned and +had a long confabulation with Mrs. Crump, for they were still +talking when Diamond fell fast asleep, and could hear them no longer. + + + +CHAPTER III + +OLD DIAMOND + + +DIAMOND woke very early in the morning, and thought what a curious +dream he had had. But the memory grew brighter and brighter +in his head, until it did not look altogether like a dream, and he +began to doubt whether he had not really been abroad in the wind +last night. He came to the conclusion that, if he had really been +brought home to his mother by Mrs. Crump, she would say something +to him about it, and that would settle the matter. Then he got +up and dressed himself, but, finding that his father and mother +were not yet stirring, he went down the ladder to the stable. +There he found that even old Diamond was not awake yet, for he, +as well as young Diamond, always got up the moment he woke, and now +he was lying as flat as a horse could lie upon his nice trim bed +of straw. + +"I'll give old Diamond a surprise," thought the, boy; and creeping +up very softly, before the horse knew, he was astride of his back. +Then it was young Diamond's turn to have more of a surprise than he +had expected; for as with an earthquake, with a rumbling and a rocking +hither and thither, a sprawling of legs and heaving as of many backs, +young Diamond found himself hoisted up in the air, with both hands +twisted in the horse's mane. The next instant old Diamond lashed +out with both his hind legs, and giving one cry of terror young +Diamond found himself lying on his neck, with his arms as far round +it as they would go. But then the horse stood as still as a stone, +except that he lifted his head gently up to let the boy slip down +to his back. For when he heard young Diamond's cry he knew that +there was nothing to kick about; for young Diamond was a good boy, +and old Diamond was a good horse, and the one was all right on the +back of the other. + +As soon as Diamond had got himself comfortable on the saddle place, +the horse began pulling at the hay, and the boy began thinking. +He had never mounted Diamond himself before, and he had never got +off him without being lifted down. So he sat, while the horse ate, +wondering how he was to reach the ground. + +But while he meditated, his mother woke, and her first thought +was to see her boy. She had visited him twice during the night, +and found him sleeping quietly. Now his bed was empty, and she +was frightened. + +"Diamond! Diamond! Where are you, Diamond?" she called out. + +Diamond turned his head where he sat like a knight on his steed +in enchanted stall, and cried aloud,-- + +"Here, mother!" + +"Where, Diamond?" she returned. + +"Here, mother, on Diamond's back." + +She came running to the ladder, and peeping down, saw him aloft +on the great horse. + +"Come down, Diamond," she said. + +"I can't," answered Diamond. + +"How did you get up?" asked his mother. + +"Quite easily," answered he; "but when I got up, Diamond would get +up too, and so here I am." + +His mother thought he had been walking in his sleep again, and hurried +down the ladder. She did not much like going up to the horse, +for she had not been used to horses; but she would have gone +into a lion's den, not to say a horse's stall, to help her boy. +So she went and lifted him off Diamond's back, and felt braver +all her life after. She carried him in her arms up to her room; +but, afraid of frightening him at his own sleep-walking, as she +supposed it, said nothing about last night. Before the next day +was over, Diamond had almost concluded the whole adventure a dream. + +For a week his mother watched him very carefully--going into +the loft several times a night--as often, in fact, as she woke. +Every time she found him fast asleep. + +All that week it was hard weather. The grass showed white in the morning +with the hoar-frost which clung like tiny comfits to every blade. +And as Diamond's shoes were not good, and his mother had not quite +saved up enough money to get him the new pair she so much wanted +for him, she would not let him run out. He played all his games +over and over indoors, especially that of driving two chairs +harnessed to the baby's cradle; and if they did not go very fast, +they went as fast as could be expected of the best chairs in the world, +although one of them had only three legs, and the other only half +a back. + +At length his mother brought home his new shoes, and no sooner +did she find they fitted him than she told him he might run +out in the yard and amuse himself for an hour. + +The sun was going down when he flew from the door like a bird from +its cage. All the world was new to him. A great fire of sunset +burned on the top of the gate that led from the stables to the house; +above the fire in the sky lay a large lake of green light, above that +a golden cloud, and over that the blue of the wintry heavens. +And Diamond thought that, next to his own home, he had never seen +any place he would like so much to live in as that sky. For it +is not fine things that make home a nice place, but your mother +and your father. + +As he was looking at the lovely colours, the gates were thrown open, +and there was old Diamond and his friend in the carriage, dancing with +impatience to get at their stalls and their oats. And in they came. +Diamond was not in the least afraid of his father driving over him, +but, careful not to spoil the grand show he made with his fine +horses and his multitudinous cape, with a red edge to every fold, +he slipped out of the way and let him dash right on to the stables. +To be quite safe he had to step into the recess of the door that led +from the yard to the shrubbery. + +As he stood there he remembered how the wind had driven him +to this same spot on the night of his dream. And once more he +was almost sure that it was no dream. At all events, he would go +in and see whether things looked at all now as they did then. +He opened the door, and passed through the little belt of shrubbery. +Not a flower was to be seen in the beds on the lawn. Even the +brave old chrysanthemums and Christmas roses had passed away +before the frost. What? Yes! There was one! He ran and knelt +down to look at it. + +It was a primrose--a dwarfish thing, but perfect in shape-- +a baby-wonder. As he stooped his face to see it close, a little +wind began to blow, and two or three long leaves that stood up +behind the flower shook and waved and quivered, but the primrose lay +still in the green hollow, looking up at the sky, and not seeming +to know that the wind was blowing at all. It was just a one eye +that the dull black wintry earth had opened to look at the sky with. +All at once Diamond thought it was saying its prayers, and he +ought not to be staring at it so. He ran to the stable to see his +father make Diamond's bed. Then his father took him in his arms, +carried him up the ladder, and set him down at the table where they +were going to have their tea. + +"Miss is very poorly," said Diamond's father. "Mis'ess has been +to the doctor with her to-day, and she looked very glum when she came +out again. I was a-watching of them to see what doctor had said." + +"And didn't Miss look glum too?" asked his mother. + +"Not half as glum as Mis'ess," returned the coachman. "You see--" + +But he lowered his voice, and Diamond could not make out more than +a word here and there. For Diamond's father was not only one of +the finest of coachmen to look at, and one of the best of drivers, +but one of the most discreet of servants as well. Therefore he did not +talk about family affairs to any one but his wife, whom he had proved +better than himself long ago, and was careful that even Diamond should +hear nothing he could repeat again concerning master and his family. + +It was bed-time soon, and Diamond went to bed and fell fast asleep. + +He awoke all at once, in the dark. + +"Open the window, Diamond," said a voice. + +Now Diamond's mother had once more pasted up North Wind's window. + +"Are you North Wind?" said Diamond: "I don't hear you blowing." + +"No; but you hear me talking. Open the window, for I haven't +overmuch time." + +"Yes," returned Diamond. "But, please, North Wind, where's the use? +You left me all alone last time." + +He had got up on his knees, and was busy with his nails once +more at the paper over the hole in the wall. For now that North +Wind spoke again, he remembered all that had taken place before +as distinctly as if it had happened only last night. + +"Yes, but that was your fault," returned North Wind. "I had work +to do; and, besides, a gentleman should never keep a lady waiting." + +"But I'm not a gentleman," said Diamond, scratching away at the paper. + +"I hope you won't say so ten years after this." + +"I'm going to be a coachman, and a coachman is not a gentleman," +persisted Diamond. + +"We call your father a gentleman in our house," said North Wind. + +"He doesn't call himself one," said Diamond. + +"That's of no consequence: every man ought to be a gentleman, +and your father is one." + +Diamond was so pleased to hear this that he scratched at the paper +like ten mice, and getting hold of the edge of it, tore it off. +The next instant a young girl glided across the bed, and stood upon +the floor. + +"Oh dear!" said Diamond, quite dismayed; "I didn't know-- +who are you, please?" + +"I'm North Wind." + +"Are you really?" + +"Yes. Make haste." + +"But you're no bigger than me." + +"Do you think I care about how big or how little I am? Didn't you +see me this evening? I was less then." + +"No. Where was you?" + +"Behind the leaves of the primrose. Didn't you see them blowing?" + +"Yes." + +"Make haste, then, if you want to go with me." + +"But you are not big enough to take care of me. I think you are +only Miss North Wind." + +"I am big enough to show you the way, anyhow. But if you +won't come, why, you must stay." + +"I must dress myself. I didn't mind with a grown lady, but I +couldn't go with a little girl in my night-gown." + +"Very well. I'm not in such a hurry as I was the other night. +Dress as fast as you can, and I'll go and shake the primrose leaves +till you come." + +"Don't hurt it," said Diamond. + +North Wind broke out in a little laugh like the breaking +of silver bubbles, and was gone in a moment. Diamond saw-- +for it was a starlit night, and the mass of hay was at a low +ebb now--the gleam of something vanishing down the stair, and, +springing out of bed, dressed himself as fast as ever he could. +Then he crept out into the yard, through the door in the wall, +and away to the primrose. Behind it stood North Wind, +leaning over it, and looking at the flower as if she had been its mother. + +"Come along," she said, jumping up and holding out her hand. + +Diamond took her hand. It was cold, but so pleasant and full +of life, it was better than warm. She led him across the garden. +With one bound she was on the top of the wall. Diamond was left at +the foot. + +"Stop, stop!" he cried. "Please, I can't jump like that." + +"You don't try" said North Wind, who from the top looked down a foot +taller than before. + +"Give me your hand again, and I will, try" said Diamond. + +She reached down, Diamond laid hold of her hand, gave a great spring, +and stood beside her. + +"This is nice!" he said. + +Another bound, and they stood in the road by the river. +It was full tide, and the stars were shining clear in its depths, +for it lay still, waiting for the turn to run down again to the sea. +They walked along its side. But they had not walked far before its +surface was covered with ripples, and the stars had vanished from +its bosom. + +And North Wind was now tall as a full-grown girl. Her hair was flying +about her head, and the wind was blowing a breeze down the river. +But she turned aside and went up a narrow lane, and as she went her +hair fell down around her. + +"I have some rather disagreeable work to do to-night," she said, +"before I get out to sea, and I must set about it at once. +The disagreeable work must be looked after first." + +So saying, she laid hold of Diamond and began to run, gliding along +faster and faster. Diamond kept up with her as well as he could. +She made many turnings and windings, apparently because it was not +quite easy to get him over walls and houses. Once they ran through +a hall where they found back and front doors open. At the foot of +the stair North Wind stood still, and Diamond, hearing a great growl, +started in terror, and there, instead of North Wind, was a huge wolf +by his side. He let go his hold in dismay, and the wolf bounded +up the stair. The windows of the house rattled and shook as if +guns were firing, and the sound of a great fall came from above. +Diamond stood with white face staring up at the landing. + +"Surely," he thought, "North Wind can't be eating one of the children!" +Coming to himself all at once, he rushed after her with his little +fist clenched. There were ladies in long trains going up and down +the stairs, and gentlemen in white neckties attending on them, +who stared at him, but none of them were of the people of the house, +and they said nothing. Before he reached the head of the stair, +however, North Wind met him, took him by the hand, and hurried +down and out of the house. + +"I hope you haven't eaten a baby, North Wind!" said Diamond, +very solemnly. + +North Wind laughed merrily, and went tripping on faster. Her grassy +robe swept and swirled about her steps, and wherever it passed +over withered leaves, they went fleeing and whirling in spirals, +and running on their edges like wheels, all about her feet. + +"No," she said at last, "I did not eat a baby. You would not have had +to ask that foolish question if you had not let go your hold of me. +You would have seen how I served a nurse that was calling a child +bad names, and telling her she was wicked. She had been drinking. +I saw an ugly gin bottle in a cupboard." + +"And you frightened her?" said Diamond. + +"I believe so!" answered North Wind laughing merrily. "I flew +at her throat, and she tumbled over on the floor with such a crash +that they ran in. She'll be turned away to-morrow--and quite time, +if they knew as much as I do." + +"But didn't you frighten the little one?" + +"She never saw me. The woman would not have seen me either if she +had not been wicked." + +"Oh!" said Diamond, dubiously. + +"Why should you see things," returned North Wind, "that you wouldn't +understand or know what to do with? Good people see good things; +bad people, bad things." + +"Then are you a bad thing?" + +"No. For you see me, Diamond, dear," said the girl, and she looked +down at him, and Diamond saw the loving eyes of the great lady +beaming from the depths of her falling hair. + +"I had to make myself look like a bad thing before she could see me. +If I had put on any other shape than a wolf's she would not have +seen me, for that is what is growing to be her own shape inside +of her." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Diamond, "but I suppose it's +all right." + +They were now climbing the slope of a grassy ascent. It was +Primrose Hill, in fact, although Diamond had never heard of it. +The moment they reached the top, North Wind stood and turned her face +towards London The stars were still shining clear and cold overhead. +There was not a cloud to be seen. The air was sharp, but Diamond did +not find it cold. + +"Now," said the lady, "whatever you do, do not let my hand go. +I might have lost you the last time, only I was not in a hurry then: +now I am in a hurry." + +Yet she stood still for a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NORTH WIND + + +AND as she stood looking towards London, Diamond saw that she +was trembling. + +"Are you cold, North Wind?" he asked. + +"No, Diamond," she answered, looking down upon him with a smile; +"I am only getting ready to sweep one of my rooms. Those careless, +greedy, untidy children make it in such a mess." + +As she spoke he could have told by her voice, if he had not seen +with his eyes, that she was growing larger and larger. Her head +went up and up towards the stars; and as she grew, still trembling +through all her body, her hair also grew--longer and longer, +and lifted itself from her head, and went out in black waves. +The next moment, however, it fell back around her, and she grew less +and less till she was only a tall woman. Then she put her hands +behind her head, and gathered some of her hair, and began weaving +and knotting it together. When she had done, she bent down her +beautiful face close to his, and said-- + +"Diamond, I am afraid you would not keep hold of me, and if I +were to drop you, I don't know what might happen; so I have been +making a place for you in my hair. Come." + +Diamond held out his arms, for with that grand face looking at him, +he believed like a baby. She took him in her hands, threw him over +her shoulder, and said, "Get in, Diamond." + +And Diamond parted her hair with his hands, crept between, and feeling +about soon found the woven nest. It was just like a pocket, +or like the shawl in which gipsy women carry their children. +North Wind put her hands to her back, felt all about the nest, +and finding it safe, said-- + +"Are you comfortable, Diamond?" + +"Yes, indeed," answered Diamond. + +The next moment he was rising in the air. North Wind grew towering +up to the place of the clouds. Her hair went streaming out from her, +till it spread like a mist over the stars. She flung herself abroad +in space. + +Diamond held on by two of the twisted ropes which, parted and interwoven, +formed his shelter, for he could not help being a little afraid. +As soon as he had come to himself, he peeped through the woven meshes, +for he did not dare to look over the top of the nest. The earth +was rushing past like a river or a sea below him. Trees and water +and green grass hurried away beneath. A great roar of wild animals +rose as they rushed over the Zoological Gardens, mixed with a +chattering of monkeys and a screaming of birds; but it died away +in a moment behind them. And now there was nothing but the roofs +of houses, sweeping along like a great torrent of stones and rocks. +Chimney-pots fell, and tiles flew from the roofs; but it looked +to him as if they were left behind by the roofs and the chimneys +as they scudded away. There was a great roaring, for the wind was +dashing against London like a sea; but at North Wind's back Diamond, +of course, felt nothing of it all. He was in a perfect calm. +He could hear the sound of it, that was all. + +By and by he raised himself and looked over the edge of his nest. +There were the houses rushing up and shooting away below him, +like a fierce torrent of rocks instead of water. Then he +looked up to the sky, but could see no stars; they were hidden +by the blinding masses of the lady's hair which swept between. +He began to wonder whether she would hear him if he spoke. +He would try. + +"Please, North Wind," he said, "what is that noise?" + +From high over his head came the voice of North Wind, +answering him, gently-- + +"The noise of my besom. I am the old woman that sweeps the cobwebs +from the, sky; only I'm busy with the floor now." + +"What makes the houses look as if they were running away?" + +"I am sweeping so fast over them." + +"But, please, North Wind, I knew London was very big, but I didn't +know it was so big as this. It seems as if we should never get +away from it." + +"We are going round and round, else we should have left it long ago." + +"Is this the way you sweep, North Wind?" + +"Yes; I go round and round with my great besom." + +"Please, would you mind going a little slower, for I want to see +the streets?" + +"You won't see much now." + +"Why?" + +"Because I have nearly swept all the people home." + +"Oh! I forgot," said Diamond, and was quiet after that, for he +did not want to be troublesome. + +But she dropped a little towards the roofs of the houses, +and Diamond could see down into the streets. There were very few +people about, though. The lamps flickered and flared again, +but nobody seemed to want them. + +Suddenly Diamond espied a little girl coming along a street. She was +dreadfully blown by the wind, and a broom she was trailing behind her +was very troublesome. It seemed as if the wind had a spite at her-- +it kept worrying her like a wild beast, and tearing at her rags. +She was so lonely there! + +"Oh! please, North Wind," he cried, "won't you help that little girl?" + +"No, Diamond; I mustn't leave my work." + +"But why shouldn't you be kind to her?" + +"I am kind to her. I am sweeping the wicked smells away." + +"But you're kinder to me, dear North Wind. Why shouldn't you +be as kind to her as you are to me?" + +"There are reasons, Diamond. Everybody can't be done to all the same. +Everybody is not ready for the same thing." + +"But I don't see why I should be kinder used than she." + +"Do you think nothing's to be done but what you can see, Diamond, +you silly! It's all right. Of course you can help her if you like. +You've got nothing particular to do at this moment; I have." + +"Oh! do let me help her, then. But you won't be able to wait, perhaps?" + +"No, I can't wait; you must do it yourself. And, mind, the wind +will get a hold of you, too." + +"Don't you want me to help her, North Wind?" + +"Not without having some idea what will happen. If you break +down and cry, that won't be much of a help to her, and it will +make a goose of little Diamond." + +"I want to go," said Diamond. "Only there's just one thing-- +how am I to get home?" + +"If you're anxious about that, perhaps you had better go with me. +I am bound to take you home again, if you do." + +"There!" cried Diamond, who was still looking after the little girl. +"I'm sure the wind will blow her over, and perhaps kill her. +Do let me go." + +They had been sweeping more slowly along the line of the street. +There was a lull in the roaring. + +"Well, though I cannot promise to take you home," said North Wind, +as she sank nearer and nearer to the tops of the houses, "I can promise +you it will be all right in the end. You will get home somehow. +Have you made up your mind what to do?" + +"Yes; to help the little girl," said Diamond firmly. + +The same moment North Wind dropt into the street and stood, +only a tall lady, but with her hair flying up over the housetops. +She put her hands to her back, took Diamond, and set him down in +the street. The same moment he was caught in the fierce coils of +the blast, and all but blown away. North Wind stepped back a step, +and at once towered in stature to the height of the houses. +A chimney-pot clashed at Diamond's feet. He turned in terror, +but it was to look for the little girl, and when he turned again +the lady had vanished, and the wind was roaring along the street +as if it had been the bed of an invisible torrent. The little girl +was scudding before the blast, her hair flying too, and behind her +she dragged her broom. Her little legs were going as fast as ever +they could to keep her from falling. Diamond crept into the shelter +of a doorway, thinking to stop her; but she passed him like a bird, +crying gently and pitifully. + +"Stop! stop! little girl," shouted Diamond, starting in pursuit. + +"I can't," wailed the girl, "the wind won't leave go of me." + +Diamond could run faster than she, and he had no broom. In a few +moments he had caught her by the frock, but it tore in his hand, +and away went the little girl. So he had to run again, and this +time he ran so fast that he got before her, and turning round caught +her in his arms, when down they went both together, which made +the little girl laugh in the midst of her crying. + +"Where are you going?" asked Diamond, rubbing the elbow that had +stuck farthest out. The arm it belonged to was twined round +a lamp-post as he stood between the little girl and the wind. + +"Home," she said, gasping for breath. + +"Then I will go with you," said Diamond. + +And then they were silent for a while, for the wind blew worse +than ever, and they had both to hold on to the lamp-post. + +"Where is your crossing?" asked the girl at length. + +"I don't sweep," answered Diamond. + +"What do you do, then?" asked she. "You ain't big enough +for most things." + +"I don't know what I do do," answered he, feeling rather ashamed. +"Nothing, I suppose. My father's Mr. Coleman's coachman." + +"Have you a father?" she said, staring at him as if a boy with +a father was a natural curiosity. + +"Yes. Haven't you?" returned Diamond. + +"No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got." And she began +to cry again. + +"I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me," said Diamond. + +"But you must go somewheres." + +"Move on," said the voice of a policeman behind them. + +"I told you so," said the girl. "You must go somewheres. +They're always at it." + +"But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?" + +"I wish she would." + +"What do you mean?" asked Diamond, quite bewildered. + +"She would if she was my mother. But she wouldn't lie abed a-cuddlin' +of her ugly old bones, and laugh to hear me crying at the door." + +"You don't mean she won't let you in to-night?" + +"It'll be a good chance if she does." + +"Why are you out so late, then?" asked Diamond. + +"My crossing's a long way off at the West End, and I had been indulgin' +in door-steps and mewses." + +"We'd better have a try anyhow," said Diamond. "Come along." + +As he spoke Diamond thought he caught a glimpse of North Wind turning +a corner in front of them; and when they turned the corner too, +they found it quiet there, but he saw nothing of the lady. + +"Now you lead me," he said, taking her hand, "and I'll take care +of you." + +The girl withdrew her hand, but only to dry her eyes with her frock, +for the other had enough to do with her broom. She put it in +his again, and led him, turning after turning, until they stopped +at a cellar-door in a very dirty lane. There she knocked. + +"I shouldn't like to live here," said Diamond. + +"Oh, yes, you would, if you had nowhere else to go to," +answered the girl. "I only wish we may get in." + +"I don't want to go in," said Diamond. + +"Where do you mean to go, then?" + +"Home to my home." + +"Where's that?" + +"I don't exactly know." + +"Then you're worse off than I am." + +"Oh no, for North Wind--" began Diamond, and stopped, he hardly +knew why. + +"What?" said the girl, as she held her ear to the door listening. + +But Diamond did not reply. Neither did old Sal. + +"I told you so," said the girl. "She is wide awake hearkening. +But we don't get in." + +"What will you do, then?" asked Diamond. + +"Move on," she answered. + +"Where?" + +"Oh, anywheres. Bless you, I'm used to it." + +"Hadn't you better come home with me, then?" + +"That's a good joke, when you don't know where it is. Come on." + +"But where?" + +"Oh, nowheres in particular. Come on." + +Diamond obeyed. The wind had now fallen considerably. They wandered +on and on, turning in this direction and that, without any reason +for one way more than another, until they had got out of the thick +of the houses into a waste kind of place. By this time they were both +very tired. Diamond felt a good deal inclined to cry, and thought +he had been very silly to get down from the back of North Wind; +not that he would have minded it if he had done the girl any good; +but he thought he had been of no use to her. He was mistaken there, +for she was far happier for having Diamond with her than if she had +been wandering about alone. She did not seem so tired as he was. + +"Do let us rest a bit," said Diamond. + +"Let's see," she answered. "There's something like a railway there. +Perhaps there's an open arch." + +They went towards it and found one, and, better still, there was +an empty barrel lying under the arch. + +"Hallo! here we are!" said the girl. "A barrel's the jolliest +bed going--on the tramp, I mean. We'll have forty winks, and then +go on again." + +She crept in, and Diamond crept in beside her. They put their arms +round each other, and when he began to grow warm, Diamond's courage +began to come back. + +"This is jolly!" he said. "I'm so glad!" + +"I don't think so much of it," said the girl. "I'm used to it, +I suppose. But I can't think how a kid like you comes to be out +all alone this time o' night." + +She called him a kid, but she was not really a month older than he was; +only she had had to work for her bread, and that so soon makes +people older. + +"But I shouldn't have been out so late if I hadn't got down +to help you," said Diamond. "North Wind is gone home long ago." + +"I think you must ha' got out o' one o' them Hidget Asylms," +said the girl. "You said something about the north wind afore +that I couldn't get the rights of." + +So now, for the sake of his character, Diamond had to tell her +the whole story. + +She did not believe a word of it. She said he wasn't such a flat +as to believe all that bosh. But as she spoke there came a great +blast of wind through the arch, and set the barrel rolling. So they +made haste to get out of it, for they had no notion of being rolled +over and over as if they had been packed tight and wouldn't hurt, +like a barrel of herrings. + +"I thought we should have had a sleep," said Diamond; "but I can't +say I'm very sleepy after all. Come, let's go on again." + +They wandered on and on, sometimes sitting on a door-step, +but always turning into lanes or fields when they had a chance. + +They found themselves at last on a rising ground that sloped rather +steeply on the other side. It was a waste kind of spot below, +bounded by an irregular wall, with a few doors in it. Outside lay +broken things in general, from garden rollers to flower-pots and +wine-bottles. But the moment they reached the brow of the rising ground, +a gust of wind seized them and blew them down hill as fast as they +could run. Nor could Diamond stop before he went bang against one +of the doors in the wall. To his dismay it burst open. When they +came to themselves they peeped in. It was the back door of a garden. + +"Ah, ah!" cried Diamond, after staring for a few moments, "I thought so! +North Wind takes nobody in! Here I am in master's garden! +I tell you what, little girl, you just bore a hole in old Sal's wall, +and put your mouth to it, and say, "Please, North Wind, mayn't I go +out with you?" and then you'll see what'll come." + +"I daresay I shall. But I'm out in the wind too often already +to want more of it." + +"I said with the North Wind, not in it." + +"It's all one." + +"It's not all one." + +"It is all one." + +"But I know best." + +"And I know better. I'll box your ears," said the girl. + +Diamond got very angry. But he remembered that even if she did box +his ears, he musn't box hers again, for she was a girl, and all +that boys must do, if girls are rude, is to go away and leave them. +So he went in at the door. + +"Good-bye, mister" said the girl. + +This brought Diamond to his senses. + +"I'm sorry I was cross," he said. "Come in, and my mother will +give you some breakfast." + +"No, thank you. I must be off to my crossing. It's morning now." + +"I'm very sorry for you," said Diamond. + +"Well, it is a life to be tired of--what with old Sal, and so many +holes in my shoes." + +"I wonder you're so good. I should kill myself." + +"Oh, no, you wouldn't! When I think of it, I always want to see what's +coming next, and so I always wait till next is over. Well! I suppose +there's somebody happy somewheres. But it ain't in them carriages. +Oh my! how they do look sometimes--fit to bite your head off! Good-bye!" + +She ran up the hill and disappeared behind it. Then Diamond shut +the door as he best could, and ran through the kitchen-garden to +the stable. And wasn't he glad to get into his own blessed bed again! + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SUMMER-HOUSE + + +DIAMOND said nothing to his mother about his adventures. He had +half a notion that North Wind was a friend of his mother, and that, +if she did not know all about it, at least she did not mind his going +anywhere with the lady of the wind. At the same time he doubted +whether he might not appear to be telling stories if he told all, +especially as he could hardly believe it himself when he thought +about it in the middle of the day, although when the twilight was +once half-way on to night he had no doubt about it, at least for +the first few days after he had been with her. The girl that swept +the crossing had certainly refused to believe him. Besides, he felt +sure that North Wind would tell him if he ought to speak. + +It was some time before he saw the lady of the wind again. +Indeed nothing remarkable took place in Diamond's history until +the following week. This was what happened then. Diamond the horse +wanted new shoes, and Diamond's father took him out of the stable, +and was just getting on his back to ride him to the forge, when he saw +his little boy standing by the pump, and looking at him wistfully. +Then the coachman took his foot out of the stirrup, left his hold +of the mane and bridle, came across to his boy, lifted him up, +and setting him on the horse's back, told him to sit up like a man. +He then led away both Diamonds together. + +The boy atop felt not a little tremulous as the great muscles that +lifted the legs of the horse knotted and relaxed against his legs, +and he cowered towards the withers, grasping with his hands the bit +of mane worn short by the collar; but when his father looked back at him, +saying once more, "Sit up, Diamond," he let the mane go and sat up, +notwithstanding that the horse, thinking, I suppose, that his +master had said to him, "Come up, Diamond," stepped out faster. +For both the Diamonds were just grandly obedient. And Diamond soon +found that, as he was obedient to his father, so the horse was +obedient to him. For he had not ridden far before he found courage +to reach forward and catch hold of the bridle, and when his father, +whose hand was upon it, felt the boy pull it towards him, he looked +up and smiled, and, well pleased, let go his hold, and left Diamond +to guide Diamond; and the boy soon found that he could do so perfectly. +It was a grand thing to be able to guide a great beast like that. +And another discovery he made was that, in order to guide the horse, +he had in a measure to obey the horse first. If he did not yield +his body to the motions of the horse's body, he could not guide him; +he must fall off. + +The blacksmith lived at some distance, deeper into London. +As they crossed the angle of a square, Diamond, who was now quite +comfortable on his living throne, was glancing this way and that in +a gentle pride, when he saw a girl sweeping a crossing scuddingly +before a lady. The lady was his father's mistress, Mrs. Coleman, +and the little girl was she for whose sake he had got off North +Wind's back. He drew Diamond's bridle in eager anxiety to see whether +her outstretched hand would gather a penny from Mrs. Coleman. +But she had given one at the last crossing, and the hand returned +only to grasp its broom. Diamond could not bear it. He had a penny +in his pocket, a gift of the same lady the day before, and he tumbled +off his horse to give it to the girl. He tumbled off, I say, for he +did tumble when he reached the ground. But he got up in an instant, +and ran, searching his pocket as he ran. She made him a pretty +courtesy when he offered his treasure, but with a bewildered stare. +She thought first: "Then he was on the back of the North Wind +after all!" but, looking up at the sound of the horse's feet +on the paved crossing, she changed her idea, saying to herself, +"North Wind is his father's horse! That's the secret of it! +Why couldn't he say so?" And she had a mind to refuse the penny. +But his smile put it all right, and she not only took his penny +but put it in her mouth with a "Thank you, mister. Did they wollop +you then?" + +"Oh no!" answered Diamond. "They never wollops me." + +"Lor!" said the little girl, and was speechless. + +Meantime his father, looking up, and seeing the horse's back bare, +suffered a pang of awful dread, but the next moment catching sight +of him, took him up and put him on, saying-- + +"Don't get off again, Diamond. The horse might have put his foot +on you." + +"No, father," answered the boy, and rode on in majestic safety. + +The summer drew near, warm and splendid. Miss Coleman was a little +better in health, and sat a good deal in the garden. One day +she saw Diamond peeping through the shrubbery, and called him. +He talked to her so frankly that she often sent for him after that, +and by degrees it came about that he had leave to run in the garden +as he pleased. He never touched any of the flowers or blossoms, +for he was not like some boys who cannot enjoy a thing without +pulling it to pieces, and so preventing every one from enjoying it +after them. + +A week even makes such a long time in a child's life, that Diamond +had begun once more to feel as if North Wind were a dream of some +far-off year. + +One hot evening, he had been sitting with the young mistress, +as they called her, in a little summer-house at the bottom +of the lawn--a wonderful thing for beauty, the boy thought, +for a little window in the side of it was made of coloured glass. +It grew dusky, and the lady began to feel chill, and went in, +leaving the boy in the summer-house. He sat there gazing out at +a bed of tulips, which, although they had closed for the night, +could not go quite asleep for the wind that kept waving them about. +All at once he saw a great bumble-bee fly out of one of the tulips. + +"There! that is something done," said a voice--a gentle, merry, +childish voice, but so tiny. "At last it was. I thought +he would have had to stay there all night, poor fellow! I did." + +Diamond could not tell whether the voice was near or far away, +it was so small and yet so clear. He had never seen a fairy, +but he had heard of such, and he began to look all about for one. +And there was the tiniest creature sliding down the stem of +the tulip! + +"Are you the fairy that herds the bees?" he asked, going out of the +summer-house, and down on his knees on the green shore of the tulip-bed. + +"I'm not a fairy," answered the little creature. + +"How do you know that?" + +"It would become you better to ask how you are to know it." + +"You've just told me." + +"Yes. But what's the use of knowing a thing only because you're +told it?" + +"Well, how am I to know you are not a fairy? You do look very +like one." + +"In the first place, fairies are much bigger than you see me." + +"Oh!" said Diamond reflectively; "I thought they were very little." + +"But they might be tremendously bigger than I am, and yet not +very big. Why, I could be six times the size I am, and not be +very huge. Besides, a fairy can't grow big and little at will, +though the nursery-tales do say so: they don't know better. +You stupid Diamond! have you never seen me before?" + +And, as she spoke, a moan of wind bent the tulips almost to +the ground, and the creature laid her hand on Diamond's shoulder. +In a moment he knew that it was North Wind. + +"I am very stupid," he said; "but I never saw you so small before, +not even when you were nursing the primrose." + +"Must you see me every size that can be measured before you +know me, Diamond?" + +"But how could I think it was you taking care of a great +stupid bumble-bee?" + +"The more stupid he was the more need he had to be taken care of. +What with sucking honey and trying to open the door, he was nearly dated; +and when it opened in the morning to let the sun see the tulip's heart, +what would the sun have thought to find such a stupid thing lying there-- +with wings too?" + +"But how do you have time to look after bees?" + +"I don't look after bees. I had this one to look after. +It was hard work, though." + +"Hard work! Why, you could blow a chimney down, or--or a boy's +cap off," said Diamond. + +"Both are easier than to blow a tulip open. But I scarcely know +the difference between hard and easy. I am always able for what I +have to do. When I see my work, I just rush at it--and it is done. +But I mustn't chatter. I have got to sink a ship to-night." + +"Sink a ship! What! with men in it?" + +"Yes, and women too." + +"How dreadful! I wish you wouldn't talk so." + +"It is rather dreadful. But it is my work. I must do it." + +"I hope you won't ask me to go with you." + +"No, I won't ask you. But you must come for all that." + +"I won't then." + +"Won't you?" And North Wind grew a tall lady, and looked him +in the eyes, and Diamond said-- + +"Please take me. You cannot be cruel." + +"No; I could not be cruel if I would. I can do nothing cruel, +although I often do what looks like cruel to those who do not know +what I really am doing. The people they say I drown, I only carry +away to--to--to--well, the back of the North Wind--that is what they +used to call it long ago, only I never saw the place." + +"How can you carry them there if you never saw it?" + +"I know the way." + +"But how is it you never saw it?" + +"Because it is behind me." + +"But you can look round." + +"Not far enough to see my own back. No; I always look before me. +In fact, I grow quite blind and deaf when I try to see my back. +I only mind my work." + +"But how does it be your work?" + +"Ah, that I can't tell you. I only know it is, because when I do it +I feel all right, and when I don't I feel all wrong. East Wind says-- +only one does not exactly know how much to believe of what she says, +for she is very naughty sometimes--she says it is all managed +by a baby; but whether she is good or naughty when she says that, +I don't know. I just stick to my work. It is all one to me to +let a bee out of a tulip, or to sweep the cobwebs from the sky. +You would like to go with me to-night?" + +"I don't want to see a ship sunk." + +"But suppose I had to take you?" + +"Why, then, of course I must go." + +"There's a good Diamond.--I think I had better be growing a bit. +Only you must go to bed first. I can't take you till you're in bed. +That's the law about the children. So I had better go and do something +else first." + +"Very well, North Wind," said Diamond. "What are you going +to do first, if you please?" + +"I think I may tell you. Jump up on the top of the wall, there." + +"I can't." + +"Ah! and I can't help you--you haven't been to bed yet, you see. +Come out to the road with me, just in front of the coach-house, and I +will show you." + +North Wind grew very small indeed, so small that she could not +have blown the dust off a dusty miller, as the Scotch children +call a yellow auricula. Diamond could not even see the blades +of grass move as she flitted along by his foot. They left the lawn, +went out by the wicket in the-coach-house gates, and then crossed +the road to the low wall that separated it from the river. + +"You can get up on this wall, Diamond," said North Wind. + +"Yes; but my mother has forbidden me." + +"Then don't," said North Wind. + +"But I can see over," said Diamond. + +"Ah! to be sure. I can't." + +So saying, North Wind gave a little bound, and stood on the top +of the wall. She was just about the height a dragon-fly would be, +if it stood on end. + +"You darling!" said Diamond, seeing what a lovely little toy-woman +she was. + +"Don't be impertinent, Master Diamond," said North Wind. +"If there's one thing makes me more angry than another, it is the way +you humans judge things by their size. I am quite as respectable +now as I shall be six hours after this, when I take an East +Indiaman by the royals, twist her round, and push her under. +You have no right to address me in such a fashion." + +But as she spoke, the tiny face wore the smile of a great, grand woman. +She was only having her own beautiful fun out of Diamond, and true +woman's fun never hurts. + +"But look there!" she resumed. "Do you see a boat with one man in it-- +a green and white boat?" + +"Yes; quite well." + +"That's a poet." + +"I thought you said it was a bo-at." + +"Stupid pet! Don't you know what a poet is?" + +"Why, a thing to sail on the water in." + +"Well, perhaps you're not so far wrong. Some poets do carry +people over the sea. But I have no business to talk so much. +The man is a poet." + +"The boat is a boat," said Diamond. + +"Can't you spell?" asked North Wind. + +"Not very well." + +"So I see. A poet is not a bo-at, as you call it. A poet is +a man who is glad of something, and tries to make other people +glad of it too." + +"Ah! now I know. Like the man in the sweety-shop." + +"Not very. But I see it is no use. I wasn't sent to tell you, +and so I can't tell you. I must be off. Only first just look at +the man." + +"He's not much of a rower" said Diamond--"paddling first with one +fin and then with the other." + +"Now look here!" said North Wind. + +And she flashed like a dragon-fly across the water, whose surface +rippled and puckered as she passed. The next moment the man +in the boat glanced about him, and bent to his oars. The boat +flew over the rippling water. Man and boat and river were awake. +The same instant almost, North Wind perched again upon the river wall. + +"How did you do that?" asked Diamond. + +"I blew in his face," answered North Wind. "I don't see how +that could do it," said Diamond. "I daresay not. And therefore +you will say you don't believe it could." + +"No, no, dear North Wind. I know you too well not to believe you." + +"Well, I blew in his face, and that woke him up." + +"But what was the good of it?" + +"Why! don't you see? Look at him--how he is pulling. I blew +the mist out of him." + +"How was that?" + +"That is just what I cannot tell you." + +"But you did it." + +"Yes. I have to do ten thousand things without being able to tell how." + +"I don't like that," said Diamond. + +He was staring after the boat. Hearing no answer, he looked down +to the wall. + +North Wind was gone. Away across the river went a long ripple-- +what sailors call a cat's paw. The man in the boat was putting up +a sail. The moon was coming to herself on the edge of a great cloud, +and the sail began to shine white. Diamond rubbed his eyes, +and wondered what it was all about. Things seemed going on around him, +and all to understand each other, but he could make nothing of it. +So he put his hands in his pockets, and went in to have his tea. +The night was very hot, for the wind had fallen again. + +"You don't seem very well to-night, Diamond," said his mother. + +"I am quite well, mother," returned Diamond, who was only puzzled. + +"I think you had better go to bed," she added. + +"Very well, mother," he answered. + +He stopped for one moment to look out of the window. Above the +moon the clouds were going different ways. Somehow or other this +troubled him, but, notwithstanding, he was soon fast asleep. + +He woke in the middle of the night and the darkness. A terrible +noise was rumbling overhead, like the rolling beat of great drums +echoing through a brazen vault. The roof of the loft in which he +lay had no ceiling; only the tiles were between him and the sky. +For a while he could not come quite awake, for the noise kept beating +him down, so that his heart was troubled and fluttered painfully. +A second peal of thunder burst over his head, and almost choked him +with fear. Nor did he recover until the great blast that followed, +having torn some tiles off the roof, sent a spout of wind down +into his bed and over his face, which brought him wide awake, +and gave him back his courage. The same moment he heard a mighty +yet musical voice calling him. + +"Come up, Diamond," it said. "It's all ready. I'm waiting for you." + +He looked out of the bed, and saw a gigantic, powerful, but most +lovely arm--with a hand whose fingers were nothing the less ladylike +that they could have strangled a boa-constrictor, or choked a tigress +off its prey--stretched down through a big hole in the roof. +Without a moment's hesitation he reached out his tiny one, and laid +it in the grand palm before him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OUT IN THE STORM + + +THE hand felt its way up his arm, and, grasping it gently and +strongly above the elbow, lifted Diamond from the bed. The moment +he was through the hole in the roof, all the winds of heaven +seemed to lay hold upon him, and buffet him hither and thither. +His hair blew one way, his night-gown another, his legs threatened +to float from under him, and his head to grow dizzy with the swiftness +of the invisible assailant. Cowering, he clung with the other +hand to the huge hand which held his arm, and fear invaded his heart. + +"Oh, North Wind!" he murmured, but the words vanished from his lips +as he had seen the soap-bubbles that burst too soon vanish from the +mouth of his pipe. The wind caught them, and they were nowhere. +They couldn't get out at all, but were torn away and strangled. +And yet North Wind heard them, and in her answer it seemed to Diamond +that just because she was so big and could not help it, and just +because her ear and her mouth must seem to him so dreadfully far away, +she spoke to him more tenderly and graciously than ever before. +Her voice was like the bass of a deep organ, without the groan in it; +like the most delicate of violin tones without the wail in it; +like the most glorious of trumpet-ejaculations without the defiance +in it; like the sound of falling water without the clatter and clash +in it: it was like all of them and neither of them--all of them +without their faults, each of them without its peculiarity: +after all, it was more like his mother's voice than anything else in +the world. + +"Diamond, dear," she said, "be a man. What is fearful to you +is not the least fearful to me." + +"But it can't hurt you," murmured Diamond, "for you're it." + +"Then if I'm it, and have you in my arms, how can it hurt you?" + +"Oh yes! I see," whispered Diamond. "But it looks so dreadful, +and it pushes me about so." + +"Yes, it does, my dear. That is what it was sent for." + +At the same moment, a peal of thunder which shook Diamond's heart +against the sides of his bosom hurtled out of the heavens: +I cannot say out of the sky, for there was no sky. Diamond had +not seen the lightning, for he had been intent on finding the face +of North Wind. Every moment the folds of her garment would sweep +across his eyes and blind him, but between, he could just persuade +himself that he saw great glories of woman's eyes looking down +through rifts in the mountainous clouds over his head. + +He trembled so at the thunder, that his knees failed him, and he sunk +down at North Wind's feet, and clasped her round the column of her ankle. +She instantly stooped, lifted him from the roof--up--up into her bosom, +and held him there, saying, as if to an inconsolable child-- + +"Diamond, dear, this will never do." + +"Oh yes, it will," answered Diamond. "I am all right now-- +quite comfortable, I assure you, dear North Wind. If you will +only let me stay here, I shall be all right indeed." + +"But you will feel the wind here, Diamond." + +"I don't mind that a bit, so long as I feel your arms through it," +answered Diamond, nestling closer to her grand bosom. + +"Brave boy!" returned North Wind, pressing him closer. + +"No," said Diamond, "I don't see that. It's not courage at all, +so long as I feel you there." + +"But hadn't you better get into my hair? Then you would not feel +the wind; you will here." + +"Ah, but, dear North Wind, you don't know how nice it is to feel +your arms about me. It is a thousand times better to have them +and the wind together, than to have only your hair and the back +of your neck and no wind at all." + +"But it is surely more comfortable there?" + +"Well, perhaps; but I begin to think there are better things than +being comfortable." + +"Yes, indeed there are. Well, I will keep you in front of me. +You will feel the wind, but not too much. I shall only want one +arm to take care of you; the other will be quite enough to sink +the ship." + +"Oh, dear North Wind! how can you talk so?" + +"My dear boy, I never talk; I always mean what I say." + +"Then you do mean to sink the ship with the other hand?" + +"Yes." + +"It's not like you." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Quite easily. Here you are taking care of a poor little boy +with one arm, and there you are sinking a ship with the other. +It can't be like you." + +"Ah! but which is me? I can't be two mes, you know." + +"No. Nobody can be two mes." + +"Well, which me is me?" + +"Now I must think. There looks to be two." + +"Yes. That's the very point.--You can't be knowing the thing you +don't know, can you?" + +"No." + +"Which me do you know?" + +"The kindest, goodest, best me in the world," answered Diamond, +clinging to North Wind. + +"Why am I good to you?" + +"I don't know." + +"Have you ever done anything for me?" + +"No." + +"Then I must be good to you because I choose to be good to you." + +"Yes." + +"Why should I choose?" + +"Because--because--because you like." + +"Why should I like to be good to you?" + +"I don't know, except it be because it's good to be good to me." + +"That's just it; I am good to you because I like to be good." + +"Then why shouldn't you be good to other people as well as to me?" + +"That's just what I don't know. Why shouldn't I?" + +"I don't know either. Then why shouldn't you?" + +"Because I am." + +"There it is again," said Diamond. "I don't see that you are. +It looks quite the other thing." + +"Well, but listen to me, Diamond. You know the one me, you say, +and that is good." + +"Yes." + +"Do you know the other me as well?" + +"No. I can't. I shouldn't like to." + +"There it is. You don't know the other me. You are sure of one +of them?" + +"Yes." + +"And you are sure there can't be two mes?" + +"Yes." + +"Then the me you don't know must be the same as the me you do know,-- +else there would be two mes?" + +"Yes." + +"Then the other me you don't know must be as kind as the me you +do know?" + +"Yes." + +"Besides, I tell you that it is so, only it doesn't look like it. +That I confess freely. Have you anything more to object?" + +"No, no, dear North Wind; I am quite satisfied." + +"Then I will tell you something you might object. You might say +that the me you know is like the other me, and that I am cruel +all through." + +"I know that can't be, because you are so kind." + +"But that kindness might be only a pretence for the sake of being +more cruel afterwards." + +Diamond clung to her tighter than ever, crying-- + +"No, no, dear North Wind; I can't believe that. I don't believe it. +I won't believe it. That would kill me. I love you, and you +must love me, else how did I come to love you? How could you +know how to put on such a beautiful face if you did not love +me and the rest? No. You may sink as many ships as you like, +and I won't say another word. I can't say I shall like to see it, +you know." + +"That's quite another thing," said North Wind; and as she spoke +she gave one spring from the roof of the hay-loft, and rushed up +into the clouds, with Diamond on her left arm close to her heart. +And as if the clouds knew she had come, they burst into a fresh +jubilation of thunderous light. For a few moments, Diamond seemed +to be borne up through the depths of an ocean of dazzling flame; +the next, the winds were writhing around him like a storm of serpents. +For they were in the midst of the clouds and mists, and they +of course took the shapes of the wind, eddying and wreathing and +whirling and shooting and dashing about like grey and black water, +so that it was as if the wind itself had taken shape, and he saw +the grey and black wind tossing and raving most madly all about him. +Now it blinded him by smiting him upon the eyes; now it deafened +him by bellowing in his ears; for even when the thunder came he +knew now that it was the billows of the great ocean of the air +dashing against each other in their haste to fill the hollow +scooped out by the lightning; now it took his breath quite away +by sucking it from his body with the speed of its rush. But he did +not mind it. He only gasped first and then laughed, for the arm +of North Wind was about him, and he was leaning against her bosom. +It is quite impossible for me to describe what he saw. Did you ever +watch a great wave shoot into a winding passage amongst rocks? +If you ever did, you would see that the water rushed every way +at once, some of it even turning back and opposing the rest; +greater confusion you might see nowhere except in a crowd of +frightened people. Well, the wind was like that, except that it +went much faster, and therefore was much wilder, and twisted +and shot and curled and dodged and clashed and raved ten times +more madly than anything else in creation except human passions. +Diamond saw the threads of the lady's hair streaking it all. +In parts indeed he could not tell which was hair and which was +black storm and vapour. It seemed sometimes that all the great +billows of mist-muddy wind were woven out of the crossing lines +of North Wind's infinite hair, sweeping in endless intertwistings. +And Diamond felt as the wind seized on his hair, which his mother +kept rather long, as if he too was a part of the storm, and some +of its life went out from him. But so sheltered was he by North +Wind's arm and bosom that only at times, in the fiercer onslaught +of some curl-billowed eddy, did he recognise for a moment how wild +was the storm in which he was carried, nestling in its very core and +formative centre. + +It seemed to Diamond likewise that they were motionless in this centre, +and that all the confusion and fighting went on around them. +Flash after flash illuminated the fierce chaos, revealing in varied +yellow and blue and grey and dusky red the vapourous contention; +peal after peal of thunder tore the infinite waste; but it seemed +to Diamond that North Wind and he were motionless, all but the hair. +It was not so. They were sweeping with the speed of the wind itself +towards the sea. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CATHEDRAL + + +I MUST not go on describing what cannot be described, for nothing +is more wearisome. + +Before they reached the sea, Diamond felt North Wind's hair just +beginning to fall about him. + +"Is the storm over, North Wind?" he called out. + +"No, Diamond. I am only waiting a moment to set you down. +You would not like to see the ship sunk, and I am going to give you +a place to stop in till I come back for you." + +"Oh! thank you," said Diamond. "I shall be sorry to leave you, +North Wind, but I would rather not see the ship go down. And I'm +afraid the poor people will cry, and I should hear them. Oh, dear!" + +"There are a good many passengers on board; and to tell the truth, +Diamond, I don't care about your hearing the cry you speak of. +I am afraid you would not get it out of your little head again +for a long time." + +"But how can you bear it then, North Wind? For I am sure you are kind. +I shall never doubt that again." + +"I will tell you how I am able to bear it, Diamond: I am always hearing, +through every noise, through all the noise I am making myself even, +the sound of a far-off song. I do not exactly know where it is, +or what it means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of +its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean +outside this air in which I make such a storm; but what I do hear is +quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. +So it would you if you could hear it." + +"No, it wouldn't," returned Diamond, stoutly. "For they wouldn't +hear the music of the far-away song; and if they did, it wouldn't +do them any good. You see you and I are not going to be drowned, +and so we might enjoy it." + +"But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it +is like. Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; +that it is coming to swallow up all cries." + +"But that won't do them any good--the people, I mean," persisted Diamond. + +"It must. It must," said North Wind, hurriedly. "It wouldn't +be the song it seems to be if it did not swallow up all their fear +and pain too, and set them singing it themselves with the rest. +I am sure it will. And do you know, ever since I knew I had hair, +that is, ever since it began to go out and away, that song has been +coming nearer and nearer. Only I must say it was some thousand years +before I heard it." + +"But how can you say it was coming nearer when you did not hear it?" +asked doubting little Diamond. + +"Since I began to hear it, I know it is growing louder, therefore I +judge it was coming nearer and nearer until I did hear it first. +I'm not so very old, you know--a few thousand years only--and I was +quite a baby when I heard the noise first, but I knew it must come +from the voices of people ever so much older and wiser than I was. +I can't sing at all, except now and then, and I can never tell what my +song is going to be; I only know what it is after I have sung it.-- +But this will never do. Will you stop here?" + +"I can't see anywhere to stop," said Diamond. "Your hair is all +down like a darkness, and I can't see through it if I knock my eyes +into it ever so much." + +"Look, then," said North Wind; and, with one sweep of her great +white arm, she swept yards deep of darkness like a great curtain +from before the face of the boy. + +And lo! it was a blue night, lit up with stars. Where it did +not shine with stars it shimmered with the milk of the stars, +except where, just opposite to Diamond's face, the grey towers +of a cathedral blotted out each its own shape of sky and stars. + +"Oh! what's that?" cried Diamond, struck with a kind of terror, +for he had never seen a cathedral, and it rose before him with an +awful reality in the midst of the wide spaces, conquering emptiness +with grandeur. + +"A very good place for you to wait in," said North Wind. "But we +shall go in, and you shall judge for yourself." + +There was an open door in the middle of one of the towers, leading out +upon the roof, and through it they passed. Then North Wind set +Diamond on his feet, and he found himself at the top of a stone stair, +which went twisting away down into the darkness for only a little +light came in at the door. It was enough, however, to allow Diamond +to see that North Wind stood beside him. He looked up to find +her face, and saw that she was no longer a beautiful giantess, +but the tall gracious lady he liked best to see. She took his hand, +and, giving him the broad part of the spiral stair to walk on, led him +down a good way; then, opening another little door, led him out upon +a narrow gallery that ran all round the central part of the church, +on the ledges of the windows of the clerestory, and through openings +in the parts of the wall that divided the windows from each other. +It was very narrow, and except when they were passing through the wall, +Diamond saw nothing to keep him from falling into the church. +It lay below him like a great silent gulf hollowed in stone, +and he held his breath for fear as he looked down. + +"What are you trembling for, little Diamond?" said the lady, as she +walked gently along, with her hand held out behind her leading him, +for there was not breadth enough for them to walk side by side. + +"I am afraid of falling down there," answered Diamond. "It is +so deep down." + +"Yes, rather," answered North Wind; "but you were a hundred times +higher a few minutes ago." + +"Ah, yes, but somebody's arm was about me then," said Diamond, +putting his little mouth to the beautiful cold hand that had a hold +of his. + +"What a dear little warm mouth you've got!" said North Wind. +"It is a pity you should talk nonsense with it. Don't you know I +have a hold of you?" + +"Yes; but I'm walking on my own legs, and they might slip. +I can't trust myself so well as your arms." + +"But I have a hold of you, I tell you, foolish child." + +"Yes, but somehow I can't feel comfortable." + +"If you were to fall, and my hold of you were to give way, I should +be down after you in a less moment than a lady's watch can tick, +and catch you long before you had reached the ground." + +"I don't like it though," said Diamond. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" he screamed the next moment, bent double with terror, +for North Wind had let go her hold of his hand, and had vanished, +leaving him standing as if rooted to the gallery. + +She left the words, "Come after me," sounding in his ears. + +But move he dared not. In a moment more he would from very terror +have fallen into the church, but suddenly there came a gentle +breath of cool wind upon his face, and it kept blowing upon him in +little puffs, and at every puff Diamond felt his faintness going away, +and his fear with it. Courage was reviving in his little heart, +and still the cool wafts of the soft wind breathed upon him, +and the soft wind was so mighty and strong within its gentleness, +that in a minute more Diamond was marching along the narrow ledge +as fearless for the time as North Wind herself. + +He walked on and on, with the windows all in a row on one side of him, +and the great empty nave of the church echoing to every one of his +brave strides on the other, until at last he came to a little +open door, from which a broader stair led him down and down and down, +till at last all at once he found himself in the arms of North Wind, +who held him close to her, and kissed him on the forehead. +Diamond nestled to her, and murmured into her bosom,--"Why did you +leave me, dear North Wind?" + +"Because I wanted you to walk alone," she answered. + +"But it is so much nicer here!" said Diamond. + +"I daresay; but I couldn't hold a little coward to my heart. +It would make me so cold!" + +"But I wasn't brave of myself," said Diamond, whom my older readers +will have already discovered to be a true child in this, that he +was given to metaphysics. "It was the wind that blew in my face +that made me brave. Wasn't it now, North Wind?" + +"Yes: I know that. You had to be taught what courage was. +And you couldn't know what it was without feeling it: therefore it +was given you. But don't you feel as if you would try to be brave +yourself next time?" + +"Yes, I do. But trying is not much." + +"Yes, it is--a very great deal, for it is a beginning. And a beginning +is the greatest thing of all. To try to be brave is to be brave. +The coward who tries to be brave is before the man who is brave +because he is made so, and never had to try." + +"How kind you are, North Wind!" + +"I am only just. All kindness is but justice. We owe it." + +"I don't quite understand that." + +"Never mind; you will some day. There is no hurry about understanding +it now." + +"Who blew the wind on me that made me brave?" + +"I did." + +"I didn't see you." + +"Therefore you can believe me." + +"Yes, yes; of course. But how was it that such a little breath +could be so strong?" + +"That I don't know." + +"But you made it strong?" + +"No: I only blew it. I knew it would make you strong, just as it +did the man in the boat, you remember. But how my breath has +that power I cannot tell. It was put into it when I was made. +That is all I know. But really I must be going about my work." + +"Ah! the poor ship! I wish you would stop here, and let the poor +ship go." + +"That I dare not do. Will you stop here till I come back?" + +"Yes. You won't be long?" + +"Not longer than I can help. Trust me, you shall get home before +the morning." + +In a moment North Wind was gone, and the next Diamond heard +a moaning about the church, which grew and grew to a roaring. +The storm was up again, and he knew that North Wind's hair was flying. + +The church was dark. Only a little light came through the windows, +which were almost all of that precious old stained glass which +is so much lovelier than the new. But Diamond could not see +how beautiful they were, for there was not enough of light +in the stars to show the colours of them. He could only just +distinguish them from the walls, He looked up, but could not see +the gallery along which he had passed. He could only tell where it +was far up by the faint glimmer of the windows of the clerestory, +whose sills made part of it. The church grew very lonely about him, +and he began to feel like a child whose mother has forsaken it. +Only he knew that to be left alone is not always to be forsaken. + +He began to feel his way about the place, and for a while went +wandering up and down. His little footsteps waked little answering +echoes in the great house. It wasn't too big to mind him. +It was as if the church knew he was there, and meant to make itself +his house. So it went on giving back an answer to every step, +until at length Diamond thought he should like to say something out loud, +and see what the church would answer. But he found he was afraid +to speak. He could not utter a word for fear of the loneliness. +Perhaps it was as well that he did not, for the sound of a spoken +word would have made him feel the place yet more deserted and empty. +But he thought he could sing. He was fond of singing, and at home he +used to sing, to tunes of his own, all the nursery rhymes he knew. +So he began to try `Hey diddle diddle', but it wouldn't do. +Then he tried `Little Boy Blue', but it was no better. Neither would +`Sing a Song of Sixpence' sing itself at all. Then he tried `Poor +old Cockytoo', but he wouldn't do. They all sounded so silly! +and he had never thought them silly before. So he was quiet, +and listened to the echoes that came out of the dark corners in answer +to his footsteps. + +At last he gave a great sigh, and said, "I'm so tired." But he did +not hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head, +for at the same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps +that stretched across the church, and fell down and hurt his arm. +He cried a little first, and then crawled up the steps on his +hands and knees. At the top he came to a little bit of carpet, +on which he lay down; and there he lay staring at the dull window +that rose nearly a hundred feet above his head. + +Now this was the eastern window of the church, and the moon was at +that moment just on the edge of the horizon. The next, she was peeping +over it. And lo! with the moon, St. John and St. Paul, and the rest +of them, began to dawn in the window in their lovely garments. +Diamond did not know that the wonder-working moon was behind, +and he thought all the light was coming out of the window itself, +and that the good old men were appearing to help him, growing out +of the night and the darkness, because he had hurt his arm, +and was very tired and lonely, and North Wind was so long in coming. +So he lay and looked at them backwards over his head, wondering when +they would come down or what they would do next. They were very dim, +for the moonlight was not strong enough for the colours, and he +had enough to do with his eyes trying to make out their shapes. +So his eyes grew tired, and more and more tired, and his eyelids +grew so heavy that they would keep tumbling down over his eyes. +He kept lifting them and lifting them, but every time they were +heavier than the last. It was no use: they were too much for him. +Sometimes before he had got them half up, down they were again; +and at length he gave it up quite, and the moment he gave it up, he was +fast asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE EAST WINDOW + + +THAT Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange +things he now fancied as taking place. For he thought he heard +a sound as of whispering up in the great window. He tried to open +his eyes, but he could not. And the whispering went on and grew +louder and louder, until he could hear every word that was said. +He thought it was the Apostles talking about him. But he could not +open his eyes. + +"And how comes he to be lying there, St. Peter?" said one. + +"I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery, under the +Nicodemus window. Perhaps he has fallen down. + +"What do you think, St. Matthew?" + +"I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such +a height. He must have been killed." + +"What are we to do with him? We can't leave him lying there. +And we could not make him comfortable up here in the window: +it's rather crowded already. What do you say, St. Thomas?" + +"Let's go down and look at him." + +There came a rustling, and a chinking, for some time, and then +there was a silence, and Diamond felt somehow that all the Apostles +were standing round him and looking down on him. And still he +could not open his eyes. + +"What is the matter with him, St. Luke?" asked one. + +"There's nothing the matter with him," answered St. Luke, who must +have joined the company of the Apostles from the next window, +one would think. "He's in a sound sleep." + +"I have it," cried another. "This is one of North Wind's tricks. +She has caught him up and dropped him at our door, like a withered +leaf or a foundling baby. I don't understand that woman's conduct, +I must say. As if we hadn't enough to do with our money, +without going taking care of other people's children! That's not +what our forefathers built cathedrals for." + +Now Diamond could not bear to hear such things against North Wind, +who, he knew, never played anybody a trick. She was far too busy +with her own work for that. He struggled hard to open his eyes, +but without success. + +"She should consider that a church is not a place for pranks, +not to mention that we live in it," said another. + +"It certainly is disrespectful of her. But she always is disrespectful. +What right has she to bang at our windows as she has been doing +the whole of this night? I daresay there is glass broken somewhere. +I know my blue robe is in a dreadful mess with the rain first and +the dust after. It will cost me shillings to clean it." + +Then Diamond knew that they could not be Apostles, talking like this. +They could only be the sextons and vergers and such-like, who got +up at night, and put on the robes of deans and bishops, and called +each other grand names, as the foolish servants he had heard his +father tell of call themselves lords and ladies, after their masters +and mistresses. And he was so angry at their daring to abuse North Wind, +that he jumped up, crying--"North Wind knows best what she is about. +She has a good right to blow the cobwebs from your windows, for she +was sent to do it. She sweeps them away from grander places, +I can tell you, for I've been with her at it." + +This was what he began to say, but as he spoke his eyes came +wide open, and behold, there were neither Apostles nor vergers there-- +not even a window with the effigies of holy men in it, but a dark heap +of hay all about him, and the little panes in the roof of his loft +glimmering blue in the light of the morning. Old Diamond was coming +awake down below in the stable. In a moment more he was on his feet, +and shaking himself so that young Diamond's bed trembled under him. + +"He's grand at shaking himself," said Diamond. "I wish I could +shake myself like that. But then I can wash myself, and he can't. +What fun it would be to see Old Diamond washing his face with his +hoofs and iron shoes! Wouldn't it be a picture?" + +So saying, he got up and dressed himself. Then he went out into +the garden. There must have been a tremendous wind in the night, +for although all was quiet now, there lay the little summer-house +crushed to the ground, and over it the great elm-tree, which +the wind had broken across, being much decayed in the middle. +Diamond almost cried to see the wilderness of green leaves, which used +to be so far up in the blue air, tossing about in the breeze, +and liking it best when the wind blew it most, now lying so near +the ground, and without any hope of ever getting up into the deep +air again. + +"I wonder how old the tree is!" thought Diamond. "It must take +a long time to get so near the sky as that poor tree was." + +"Yes, indeed," said a voice beside him, for Diamond had spoken +the last words aloud. + +Diamond started, and looking around saw a clergyman, a brother of +Mrs. Coleman, who happened to be visiting her. He was a great scholar, +and was in the habit of rising early. + +"Who are you, my man?" he added. + +"Little Diamond," answered the boy. + +"Oh! I have heard of you. How do you come to be up so early?" + +"Because the sham Apostles talked such nonsense, they waked me up." + +The clergyman stared. Diamond saw that he had better have held +his tongue, for he could not explain things. + +"You must have been dreaming, my little man," said he. "Dear! dear!" +he went on, looking at the tree, "there has been terrible work here. +This is the north wind's doing. What a pity! I wish we lived at +the back of it, I'm sure." + +"Where is that sir?" asked Diamond. + +"Away in the Hyperborean regions," answered the clergyman, smiling. + +"I never heard of the place," returned Diamond. + +"I daresay not," answered the clergyman; "but if this tree had +been there now, it would not have been blown down, for there +is no wind there." + +"But, please, sir, if it had been there," said Diamond, "we should +not have had to be sorry for it." + +"Certainly not." + +"Then we shouldn't have had to be glad for it, either." + +"You're quite right, my boy," said the clergyman, looking at him +very kindly, as he turned away to the house, with his eyes bent +towards the earth. But Diamond thought within himself, "I will +ask North Wind next time I see her to take me to that country. +I think she did speak about it once before." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOW DIAMOND GOT TO THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +WHEN Diamond went home to breakfast, he found his father and mother +already seated at the table. They were both busy with their bread +and butter, and Diamond sat himself down in his usual place. +His mother looked up at him, and, after watching him for a moment, said: + +"I don't think the boy is looking well, husband." + +"Don't you? Well, I don't know. I think he looks pretty bobbish. +How do you feel yourself, Diamond, my boy?" + +"Quite well, thank you, father; at least, I think I've got +a little headache." + +"There! I told you," said his father and mother both at once. + +"The child's very poorly" added his mother. + +"The child's quite well," added his father. + +And then they both laughed. + +"You see," said his mother, "I've had a letter from my sister +at Sandwich." + +"Sleepy old hole!" said his father. + +"Don't abuse the place; there's good people in it," said his mother. + +"Right, old lady," returned his father; "only I don't believe there +are more than two pair of carriage-horses in the whole blessed place." + +"Well, people can get to heaven without carriages--or coachmen +either, husband. Not that I should like to go without my coachman, +you know. But about the boy?" + +"What boy?" + +"That boy, there, staring at you with his goggle-eyes." + +"Have I got goggle-eyes, mother?" asked Diamond, a little dismayed. + +"Not too goggle," said his mother, who was quite proud of her +boy's eyes, only did not want to make him vain. + +"Not too goggle; only you need not stare so." + +"Well, what about him?" said his father. + +"I told you I had got a letter." + +"Yes, from your sister; not from Diamond." + +"La, husband! you've got out of bed the wrong leg first this morning, +I do believe." + +"I always get out with both at once," said his father, laughing. + +"Well, listen then. His aunt wants the boy to go down and see her." + +"And that's why you want to make out that he ain't looking well." + +"No more he is. I think he had better go." + +"Well, I don't care, if you can find the money," said his father. + +"I'll manage that," said his mother; and so it was agreed that +Diamond should go to Sandwich. + +I will not describe the preparations Diamond made. You would have +thought he had been going on a three months' voyage. Nor will I +describe the journey, for our business is now at the place. +He was met at the station by his aunt, a cheerful middle-aged woman, +and conveyed in safety to the sleepy old town, as his father called it. +And no wonder that it was sleepy, for it was nearly dead of old age. + +Diamond went about staring with his beautiful goggle-eyes, +at the quaint old streets, and the shops, and the houses. +Everything looked very strange, indeed; for here was a town +abandoned by its nurse, the sea, like an old oyster left on the +shore till it gaped for weariness. It used to be one of the five +chief seaports in England, but it began to hold itself too high, +and the consequence was the sea grew less and less intimate with it, +gradually drew back, and kept more to itself, till at length it +left it high and dry: Sandwich was a seaport no more; the sea +went on with its own tide-business a long way off, and forgot it. +Of course it went to sleep, and had no more to do with ships. +That's what comes to cities and nations, and boys and girls, who say, +"I can do without your help. I'm enough for myself." + +Diamond soon made great friends with an old woman who kept a toyshop, +for his mother had given him twopence for pocket-money before he left, +and he had gone into her shop to spend it, and she got talking +to him. She looked very funny, because she had not got any teeth, +but Diamond liked her, and went often to her shop, although he had +nothing to spend there after the twopence was gone. + +One afternoon he had been wandering rather wearily about the +streets for some time. It was a hot day, and he felt tired. +As he passed the toyshop, he stepped in. + +"Please may I sit down for a minute on this box?" he said, +thinking the old woman was somewhere in the shop. But he got +no answer, and sat down without one. Around him were a great many +toys of all prices, from a penny up to shillings. All at once he +heard a gentle whirring somewhere amongst them. It made him start +and look behind him. There were the sails of a windmill going +round and round almost close to his ear. He thought at first it +must be one of those toys which are wound up and go with clockwork; +but no, it was a common penny toy, with the windmill at the end +of a whistle, and when the whistle blows the windmill goes. +But the wonder was that there was no one at the whistle end blowing, +and yet the sails were turning round and round--now faster, now slower, +now faster again. + +"What can it mean?" said Diamond, aloud. + +"It means me," said the tiniest voice he had ever heard. + +"Who are you, please?" asked Diamond. + +"Well, really, I begin to be ashamed of you," said the voice. +"I wonder how long it will be before you know me; or how often +I might take you in before you got sharp enough to suspect me. +You are as bad as a baby that doesn't know his mother in a new bonnet." + +"Not quite so bad as that, dear North Wind," said Diamond, "for I +didn't see you at all, and indeed I don't see you yet, although I +recognise your voice. Do grow a little, please." + +"Not a hair's-breadth," said the voice, and it was the smallest +voice that ever spoke. "What are you doing here?" + +"I am come to see my aunt. But, please, North Wind, why didn't +you come back for me in the church that night?" + +"I did. I carried you safe home. All the time you were dreaming +about the glass Apostles, you were lying in my arms." + +"I'm so glad," said Diamond. "I thought that must be it, only I +wanted to hear you say so. Did you sink the ship, then?" + +"Yes." + +"And drown everybody?" + +"Not quite. One boat got away with six or seven men in it." + +"How could the boat swim when the ship couldn't?" + +"Of course I had some trouble with it. I had to contrive a bit, +and manage the waves a little. When they're once thoroughly +waked up, I have a good deal of trouble with them sometimes. +They're apt to get stupid with tumbling over each other's heads. +That's when they're fairly at it. However, the boat got to a desert +island before noon next day." + +"And what good will come of that?" + +"I don't know. I obeyed orders. Good bye." + +"Oh! stay, North Wind, do stay!" cried Diamond, dismayed to see +the windmill get slower and slower. + +"What is it, my dear child?" said North Wind, and the windmill +began turning again so swiftly that Diamond could scarcely see it. +"What a big voice you've got! and what a noise you do make with it? +What is it you want? I have little to do, but that little must +be done." + +"I want you to take me to the country at the back of the north wind." + +"That's not so easy," said North Wind, and was silent for so long +that Diamond thought she was gone indeed. But after he had quite +given her up, the voice began again. + +"I almost wish old Herodotus had held his tongue about it. +Much he knew of it!" + +"Why do you wish that, North Wind?" + +"Because then that clergyman would never have heard of it, and set +you wanting to go. But we shall see. We shall see. You must go +home now, my dear, for you don't seem very well, and I'll see what +can be done for you. Don't wait for me. I've got to break a few +of old Goody's toys; she's thinking too much of her new stock. +Two or three will do. There! go now." + +Diamond rose, quite sorry, and without a word left the shop, +and went home. + +It soon appeared that his mother had been right about him, +for that same afternoon his head began to ache very much, and he +had to go to bed. + +He awoke in the middle of the night. The lattice window of his room +had blown open, and the curtains of his little bed were swinging +about in the wind. + +"If that should be North Wind now!" thought Diamond. + +But the next moment he heard some one closing the window, +and his aunt came to his bedside. She put her hand on his face, +and said-- + +"How's your head, dear?" + +"Better, auntie, I think." + +"Would you like something to drink?" + +"Oh, yes! I should, please." + +So his aunt gave him some lemonade, for she had been used +to nursing sick people, and Diamond felt very much refreshed, +and laid his head down again to go very fast asleep, as he thought. +And so he did, but only to come awake again, as a fresh burst of wind +blew the lattice open a second time. The same moment he found +himself in a cloud of North Wind's hair, with her beautiful face, +set in it like a moon, bending over him. + +"Quick, Diamond!" she said. "I have found such a chance!" + +"But I'm not well," said Diamond. + +"I know that, but you will be better for a little fresh air. +You shall have plenty of that." + +"You want me to go, then?" + +"Yes, I do. It won't hurt you." + +"Very well," said Diamond; and getting out of the bed-clothes, he +jumped into North Wind's arms. + +"We must make haste before your aunt comes," said she, as she +glided out of the open lattice and left it swinging. + +The moment Diamond felt her arms fold around him he began to +feel better. It was a moonless night, and very dark, with glimpses +of stars when the clouds parted. + +"I used to dash the waves about here," said North Wind, "where cows +and sheep are feeding now; but we shall soon get to them. +There they are." + +And Diamond, looking down, saw the white glimmer of breaking water +far below him. + +"You see, Diamond," said North Wind, "it is very difficult for me +to get you to the back of the north wind, for that country lies +in the very north itself, and of course I can't blow northwards." + +"Why not?" asked Diamond. + +"You little silly!" said North Wind. "Don't you see that if I +were to blow northwards I should be South Wind, and that is as much +as to say that one person could be two persons?" + +"But how can you ever get home at all, then?" + +"You are quite right--that is my home, though I never get farther than +the outer door. I sit on the doorstep, and hear the voices inside. +I am nobody there, Diamond." + +"I'm very sorry." + +"Why?" + +"That you should be nobody." + +"Oh, I don't mind it. Dear little man! you will be very glad some +day to be nobody yourself. But you can't understand that now, +and you had better not try; for if you do, you will be certain to go +fancying some egregious nonsense, and making yourself miserable +about it." + +"Then I won't," said Diamond. + +"There's a good boy. It will all come in good time." + +"But you haven't told me how you get to the doorstep, you know." + +"It is easy enough for me. I have only to consent to be nobody, +and there I am. I draw into myself and there I am on the doorstep. +But you can easily see, or you have less sense than I think, +that to drag you, you heavy thing, along with me, would take centuries, +and I could not give the time to it." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Diamond. + +"What for now, pet?" + +"That I'm so heavy for you. I would be lighter if I could, but I +don't know how." + +"You silly darling! Why, I could toss you a hundred miles from me +if I liked. It is only when I am going home that I shall find +you heavy." + +"Then you are going home with me?" + +"Of course. Did I not come to fetch you just for that?" + +"But all this time you must be going southwards." + +"Yes. Of course I am." + +"How can you be taking me northwards, then?" + +"A very sensible question. But you shall see. I will get +rid of a few of these clouds--only they do come up so fast! +It's like trying to blow a brook dry. There! What do you see now?" + +"I think I see a little boat, away there, down below." + +"A little boat, indeed! Well! She's a yacht of two hundred tons; +and the captain of it is a friend of mine; for he is a man of +good sense, and can sail his craft well. I've helped him many +a time when he little thought it. I've heard him grumbling at me, +when I was doing the very best I could for him. Why, I've carried +him eighty miles a day, again and again, right north." + +"He must have dodged for that," said Diamond, who had been watching +the vessels, and had seen that they went other ways than the wind blew. + +"Of course he must. But don't you see, it was the best I could do? +I couldn't be South Wind. And besides it gave him a share in +the business. It is not good at all--mind that, Diamond--to do +everything for those you love, and not give them a share in the doing. +It's not kind. It's making too much of yourself, my child. +If I had been South Wind, he would only have smoked his pipe all day, +and made himself stupid." + +"But how could he be a man of sense and grumble at you when you +were doing your best for him?" + +"Oh! you must make allowances," said North Wind, "or you will never +do justice to anybody.--You do understand, then, that a captain +may sail north----" + +"In spite of a north wind--yes," supplemented Diamond. + +"Now, I do think you must be stupid, my, dear" said North Wind. +"Suppose the north wind did not blow where would he be then?" + +"Why then the south wind would carry him." + +"So you think that when the north wind stops the south wind blows. +Nonsense. If I didn't blow, the captain couldn't sail his eighty +miles a day. No doubt South Wind would carry him faster, but South +Wind is sitting on her doorstep then, and if I stopped there would +be a dead calm. So you are all wrong to say he can sail north +in spite of me; he sails north by my help, and my help alone. +You see that, Diamond?" + +"Yes, I do, North Wind. I am stupid, but I don't want to be stupid." + +"Good boy! I am going to blow you north in that little craft, one of +the finest that ever sailed the sea. Here we are, right over it. +I shall be blowing against you; you will be sailing against me; +and all will be just as we want it. The captain won't get on +so fast as he would like, but he will get on, and so shall we. +I'm just going to put you on board. Do you see in front of the tiller-- +that thing the man is working, now to one side, now to the other-- +a round thing like the top of a drum?" + +"Yes," said Diamond. + +"Below that is where they keep their spare sails, and some stores +of that sort. I am going to blow that cover off. The same moment +I will drop you on deck, and you must tumble in. Don't be afraid, +it is of no depth, and you will fall on sail-cloth. You will find it +nice and warm and dry-only dark; and you will know I am near you by +every roll and pitch of the vessel. Coil yourself up and go to sleep. +The yacht shall be my cradle and you shall be my baby." + +"Thank you, dear North Wind. I am not a bit afraid," said Diamond. + +In a moment they were on a level with the bulwarks, and North Wind +sent the hatch of the after-store rattling away over the deck +to leeward. The next, Diamond found himself in the dark, for he +had tumbled through the hole as North Wind had told him, and the +cover was replaced over his head. Away he went rolling to leeward, +for the wind began all at once to blow hard. He heard the call +of the captain, and the loud trampling of the men over his head, +as they hauled at the main sheet to get the boom on board that they +might take in a reef in the mainsail. Diamond felt about until +he had found what seemed the most comfortable place, and there he +snuggled down and lay. + +Hours after hours, a great many of them, went by; and still +Diamond lay there. He never felt in the least tired or impatient, +for a strange pleasure filled his heart. The straining of the masts, +the creaking of the boom, the singing of the ropes, the banging +of the blocks as they put the vessel about, all fell in with the +roaring of the wind above, the surge of the waves past her sides, +and the thud with which every now and then one would strike her; +while through it all Diamond could hear the gurgling, rippling, +talking flow of the water against her planks, as she slipped through it, +lying now on this side, now on that--like a subdued air running +through the grand music his North Wind was making about him to keep +him from tiring as they sped on towards the country at the back +of her doorstep. + +How long this lasted Diamond had no idea. He seemed to fall +asleep sometimes, only through the sleep he heard the sounds going on. +At length the weather seemed to get worse. The confusion and +trampling of feet grew more frequent over his head; the vessel lay +over more and more on her side, and went roaring through the waves, +which banged and thumped at her as if in anger. All at once arose +a terrible uproar. The hatch was blown off; a cold fierce wind +swept in upon him; and a long arm came with it which laid hold +of him and lifted him out. The same moment he saw the little vessel +far below him righting herself. She had taken in all her sails +and lay now tossing on the waves like a sea-bird with folded wings. +A short distance to the south lay a much larger vessel, with two +or three sails set, and towards it North Wind was carrying Diamond. +It was a German ship, on its way to the North Pole. + +"That vessel down there will give us a lift now," said North Wind; +"and after that I must do the best I can." + +She managed to hide him amongst the flags of the big ship, +which were all snugly stowed away, and on and on they sped +towards the north. At length one night she whispered in his ear, +"Come on deck, Diamond;" and he got up at once and crept on deck. +Everything looked very strange. Here and there on all sides were +huge masses of floating ice, looking like cathedrals, and castles, +and crags, while away beyond was a blue sea. + +"Is the sun rising or setting?" asked Diamond. + +"Neither or both, which you please. I can hardly tell which myself. +If he is setting now, he will be rising the next moment." + +"What a strange light it is!" said Diamond. "I have heard +that the sun doesn't go to bed all the summer in these parts. +Miss Coleman told me that. I suppose he feels very sleepy, +and that is why the light he sends out looks so like a dream." + +"That will account for it well enough for all practical purposes," +said North Wind. + +Some of the icebergs were drifting northwards; one was passing +very near the ship. North Wind seized Diamond, and with a single +bound lighted on one of them--a huge thing, with sharp pinnacles and +great clefts. The same instant a wind began to blow from the south. +North Wind hurried Diamond down the north side of the iceberg, +stepping by its jags and splintering; for this berg had never got +far enough south to be melted and smoothed by the summer sun. +She brought him to a cave near the water, where she entered, and, +letting Diamond go, sat down as if weary on a ledge of ice. + +Diamond seated himself on the other side, and for a while was +enraptured with the colour of the air inside the cave. It was a deep, +dazzling, lovely blue, deeper than the deepest blue of the sky. +The blue seemed to be in constant motion, like the blackness when +you press your eyeballs with your fingers, boiling and sparkling. +But when he looked across to North Wind he was frightened; +her face was worn and livid. + +"What is the matter with you, dear North Wind?" he said. + +"Nothing much. I feel very faint. But you mustn't mind it, +for I can bear it quite well. South Wind always blows me faint. +If it were not for the cool of the thick ice between me and her, +I should faint altogether. Indeed, as it is, I fear I must vanish." + +Diamond stared at her in terror, for he saw that her form and face +were growing, not small, but transparent, like something dissolving, +not in water, but in light. He could see the side of the blue cave +through her very heart. And she melted away till all that was left +was a pale face, like the moon in the morning, with two great lucid +eyes in it. + +"I am going, Diamond," she said. + +"Does it hurt you?" asked Diamond. + +"It's very uncomfortable," she answered; "but I don't mind it, +for I shall come all right again before long. I thought I should +be able to go with you all the way, but I cannot. You must not be +frightened though. Just go straight on, and you will come all right. +You'll find me on the doorstep." + +As she spoke, her face too faded quite away, only Diamond +thought he could still see her eyes shining through the blue. +When he went closer, however, he found that what he thought her +eyes were only two hollows in the ice. North Wind was quite gone; +and Diamond would have cried, if he had not trusted her so thoroughly. +So he sat still in the blue air of the cavern listening to the wash +and ripple of the water all about the base of the iceberg, as it +sped on and on into the open sea northwards. It was an excellent +craft to go with the current, for there was twice as much of it +below water as above. But a light south wind was blowing too, +and so it went fast. + +After a little while Diamond went out and sat on the edge of his +floating island, and looked down into the ocean beneath him. +The white sides of the berg reflected so much light below the water, +that he could see far down into the green abyss. Sometimes he +fancied he saw the eyes of North Wind looking up at him from below, +but the fancy never lasted beyond the moment of its birth. And the time +passed he did not know how, for he felt as if he were in a dream. +When he got tired of the green water, he went into the blue cave; +and when he got tired of the blue cave he went out and gazed all +about him on the blue sea, ever sparkling in the sun, which kept +wheeling about the sky, never going below the horizon. But he +chiefly gazed northwards, to see whether any land were appearing. +All this time he never wanted to eat. He broke off little bits +of the berg now and then and sucked them, and he thought them +very nice. + +At length, one time he came out of his cave, he spied far off on +the horizon, a shining peak that rose into the sky like the top +of some tremendous iceberg; and his vessel was bearing him straight +towards it. As it went on the peak rose and rose higher and higher +above the horizon; and other peaks rose after it, with sharp edges +and jagged ridges connecting them. Diamond thought this must be +the place he was going to; and he was right; for the mountains rose +and rose, till he saw the line of the coast at their feet and at +length the iceberg drove into a little bay, all around which were +lofty precipices with snow on their tops, and streaks of ice down +their sides. The berg floated slowly up to a projecting rock. +Diamond stepped on shore, and without looking behind him began to follow +a natural path which led windingly towards the top of the precipice. + +When he reached it, he found himself on a broad table of ice, +along which he could walk without much difficulty. Before him, +at a considerable distance, rose a lofty ridge of ice, which shot up +into fantastic pinnacles and towers and battlements. The air was +very cold, and seemed somehow dead, for there was not the slightest +breath of wind. + +In the centre of the ridge before him appeared a gap like the opening +of a valley. But as he walked towards it, gazing, and wondering +whether that could be the way he had to take, he saw that what had +appeared a gap was the form of a woman seated against the ice +front of the ridge, leaning forwards with her hands in her lap, +and her hair hanging down to the ground. + +"It is North Wind on her doorstep," said Diamond joyfully, +and hurried on. + +He soon came up to the place, and there the form sat, like one of +the great figures at the door of an Egyptian temple, motionless, +with drooping arms and head. Then Diamond grew frightened, +because she did not move nor speak. He was sure it was North Wind, +but he thought she must be dead at last. Her face was white as +the snow, her eyes were blue as the air in the ice-cave, and her +hair hung down straight, like icicles. She had on a greenish robe, +like the colour in the hollows of a glacier seen from far off. + +He stood up before her, and gazed fearfully into her face for a few +minutes before he ventured to speak. At length, with a great effort +and a trembling voice, he faltered out-- + +"North Wind!" + +"Well, child?" said the form, without lifting its head. + +"Are you ill, dear North Wind?" + +"No. I am waiting." + +"What for?" + +"Till I'm wanted." + +"You don't care for me any more," said Diamond, almost crying now. + +"Yes I do. Only I can't show it. All my love is down at the bottom +of my heart. But I feel it bubbling there." + +"What do you want me to do next, dear North Wind?" said Diamond, +wishing to show his love by being obedient. + +"What do you want to do yourself?" + +"I want to go into the country at your back." + +"Then you must go through me." + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"I mean just what I say. You must walk on as if I were an open door, +and go right through me." + +"But that will hurt you." + +"Not in the least. It will hurt you, though." + +"I don't mind that, if you tell me to do it." + +"Do it," said North Wind. + +Diamond walked towards her instantly. When he reached her knees, +he put out his hand to lay it on her, but nothing was there save +an intense cold. He walked on. Then all grew white about him; +and the cold stung him like fire. He walked on still, groping through +the whiteness. It thickened about him. At last, it got into his heart, +and he lost all sense. I would say that he fainted--only whereas +in common faints all grows black about you, he felt swallowed up +in whiteness. It was when he reached North Wind's heart that he +fainted and fell. But as he fell, he rolled over the threshold, +and it was thus that Diamond got to the back of the north wind. + + + +CHAPTER X + +AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +I HAVE now come to the most difficult part of my story. And why? +Because I do not know enough about it. And why should I not know +as much about this part as about any other part? For of course +I could know nothing about the story except Diamond had told it; +and why should not Diamond tell about the country at the back of +the north wind, as well as about his adventures in getting there? +Because, when he came back, he had forgotten a great deal, +and what he did remember was very hard to tell. Things there +are so different from things here! The people there do not speak +the same language for one thing. Indeed, Diamond insisted that +there they do not speak at all. I do not think he was right, +but it may well have appeared so to Diamond. The fact is, we have +different reports of the place from the most trustworthy people. +Therefore we are bound to believe that it appears somewhat different +to different people. All, however, agree in a general way about it. + +I will tell you something of what two very different people have reported, +both of whom knew more about it, I believe, than Herodotus. +One of them speaks from his own experience, for he visited the country; +the other from the testimony of a young peasant girl who came back +from it for a month's visit to her friends. The former was a great +Italian of noble family, who died more than five hundred years ago; +the latter a Scotch shepherd who died not forty years ago. + +The Italian, then, informs us that he had to enter that country +through a fire so hot that he would have thrown himself into +boiling glass to cool himself. This was not Diamond's experience, +but then Durante--that was the name of the Italian, and it means Lasting, +for his books will last as long as there are enough men in the world +worthy of having them--Durante was an elderly man, and Diamond was +a little boy, and so their experience must be a little different. +The peasant girl, on the other hand, fell fast asleep in a wood, +and woke in the same country. + +In describing it, Durante says that the ground everywhere smelt sweetly, +and that a gentle, even-tempered wind, which never blew faster +or slower, breathed in his face as he went, making all the leaves +point one way, not so as to disturb the birds in the tops of +the trees, but, on the contrary, sounding a bass to their song. +He describes also a little river which was so full that its little waves, +as it hurried along, bent the grass, full of red and yellow flowers, +through which it flowed. He says that the purest stream in the world +beside this one would look as if it were mixed with something that did +not belong to it, even although it was flowing ever in the brown +shadow of the trees, and neither sun nor moon could shine upon it. +He seems to imply that it is always the month of May in that country. +It would be out of place to describe here the wonderful sights he saw, +for the music of them is in another key from that of this story, +and I shall therefore only add from the account of this traveller, +that the people there are so free and so just and so healthy, +that every one of them has a crown like a king and a mitre like +a priest. + +The peasant girl--Kilmeny was her name--could not report such grand +things as Durante, for, as the shepherd says, telling her story +as I tell Diamond's-- + + "Kilmeny had been she knew not where, + And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare; + Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, + Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew. + But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, + And the airs of heaven played round her tongue, + When she spoke of the lovely forms she had seen, + And a land where sin had never been; + A land of love and a land of light, + Withouten sun, or moon, or night; + Where the river swayed a living stream, + And the light a pure and cloudless beam: + The land of vision it would seem, + And still an everlasting dream." + + +The last two lines are the shepherd's own remark, and a matter +of opinion. But it is clear, I think, that Kilmeny must have described +the same country as Durante saw, though, not having his experience, +she could neither understand nor describe it so well. + +Now I must give you such fragments of recollection as Diamond +was able to bring back with him. + +When he came to himself after he fell, he found himself at the back +of the north wind. North Wind herself was nowhere to be seen. +Neither was there a vestige of snow or of ice within sight. +The sun too had vanished; but that was no matter, for there was +plenty of a certain still rayless light. Where it came from he +never found out; but he thought it belonged to the country itself. +Sometimes he thought it came out of the flowers, which were very bright, +but had no strong colour. He said the river--for all agree that there +is a river there--flowed not only through, but over grass: its channel, +instead of being rock, stones, pebbles, sand, or anything else, +was of pure meadow grass, not over long. He insisted that if it +did not sing tunes in people's ears, it sung tunes in their heads, +in proof of which I may mention that, in the troubles which followed, +Diamond was often heard singing; and when asked what he was singing, +would answer, "One of the tunes the river at the back of the north +wind sung." And I may as well say at once that Diamond never told +these things to any one but--no, I had better not say who it was; +but whoever it was told me, and I thought it would be well to write them +for my child-readers. + +He could not say he was very happy there, for he had neither +his father nor mother with him, but he felt so still and quiet +and patient and contented, that, as far as the mere feeling went, +it was something better than mere happiness. Nothing went wrong +at the back of the north wind. Neither was anything quite right, +he thought. Only everything was going to be right some day. +His account disagreed with that of Durante, and agreed with that +of Kilmeny, in this, that he protested there was no wind there at all. +I fancy he missed it. At all events we could not do without wind. +It all depends on how big our lungs are whether the wind is too strong +for us or not. + +When the person he told about it asked him whether he saw anybody he +knew there, he answered, "Only a little girl belonging to the gardener, +who thought he had lost her, but was quite mistaken, for there she +was safe enough, and was to come back some day, as I came back, +if they would only wait." + +"Did you talk to her, Diamond?" + +"No. Nobody talks there. They only look at each other, +and understand everything." + +"Is it cold there?" + +"No." + +"Is it hot?" + +"No." + +"What is it then?" + +"You never think about such things there." + +"What a queer place it must be!" + +"It's a very good place." + +"Do you want to go back again?" + +"No; I don't think I have left it; I feel it here, somewhere." + +"Did the people there look pleased?" + +"Yes--quite pleased, only a little sad." + +"Then they didn't look glad?" + +"They looked as if they were waiting to be gladder some day." + +This was how Diamond used to answer questions about that country. +And now I will take up the story again, and tell you how he got back +to this country. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW DIAMOND GOT HOME AGAIN + + +WHEN one at the back of the north wind wanted to know how things +were going with any one he loved, he had to go to a certain tree, +climb the stem, and sit down in the branches. In a few minutes, +if he kept very still, he would see something at least of what was +going on with the people he loved. + +One day when Diamond was sitting in this tree, he began to long very +much to get home again, and no wonder, for he saw his mother crying. +Durante says that the people there may always follow their wishes, +because they never wish but what is good. Diamond's wish was to +get home, and he would fain follow his wish. + +But how was he to set about it? If he could only see North Wind! +But the moment he had got to her back, she was gone altogether from +his sight. He had never seen her back. She might be sitting on +her doorstep still, looking southwards, and waiting, white and thin +and blue-eyed, until she was wanted. Or she might have again become +a mighty creature, with power to do that which was demanded of her, +and gone far away upon many missions. She must be somewhere, however. +He could not go home without her, and therefore he must find her. +She could never have intended to leave him always away from his mother. +If there had been any danger of that, she would have told him, +and given him his choice about going. For North Wind was right honest. +How to find North Wind, therefore, occupied all his thoughts. + +In his anxiety about his mother, he used to climb the tree every day, +and sit in its branches. However many of the dwellers there did so, +they never incommoded one another; for the moment one got into +the tree, he became invisible to every one else; and it was such +a wide-spreading tree that there was room for every one of the +people of the country in it, without the least interference with +each other. Sometimes, on getting down, two of them would meet +at the root, and then they would smile to each other more sweetly +than at any other time, as much as to say, "Ah, you've been up there too!" + +One day he was sitting on one of the outer branches of the tree, +looking southwards after his home. Far away was a blue shining sea, +dotted with gleaming and sparkling specks of white. Those were +the icebergs. Nearer he saw a great range of snow-capped mountains, +and down below him the lovely meadow-grass of the country, with the +stream flowing and flowing through it, away towards the sea. +As he looked he began to wonder, for the whole country lay beneath him +like a map, and that which was near him looked just as small as that +which he knew to be miles away. The ridge of ice which encircled it +appeared but a few yards off, and no larger than the row of pebbles +with which a child will mark out the boundaries of the kingdom he +has appropriated on the sea-shore. He thought he could distinguish +the vapoury form of North Wind, seated as he had left her, on the +other side. Hastily he descended the tree, and to his amazement +found that the map or model of the country still lay at his feet. +He stood in it. With one stride he had crossed the river; +with another he had reached the ridge of ice; with the third he +stepped over its peaks, and sank wearily down at North Wind's knees. +For there she sat on her doorstep. The peaks of the great ridge +of ice were as lofty as ever behind her, and the country at her back +had vanished from Diamond's view. + +North Wind was as still as Diamond had left her. Her pale face +was white as the snow, and her motionless eyes were as blue +as the caverns in the ice. But the instant Diamond touched her, +her face began to change like that of one waking from sleep. +Light began to glimmer from the blue of her eyes. + +A moment more, and she laid her hand on Diamond's head, and began +playing with his hair. Diamond took hold of her hand, and laid +his face to it. She gave a little start. + +"How very alive you are, child!" she murmured. "Come nearer to me." + +By the help of the stones all around he clambered up beside her, +and laid himself against her bosom. She gave a great sigh, +slowly lifted her arms, and slowly folded them about him, +until she clasped him close. Yet a moment, and she roused herself, +and came quite awake; and the cold of her bosom, which had pierced +Diamond's bones, vanished. + +"Have you been sitting here ever since I went through you, +dear North Wind?" asked Diamond, stroking her hand. + +"Yes," she answered, looking at him with her old kindness. + +"Ain't you very tired?" + +"No; I've often had to sit longer. Do you know how long you +have been?" + +"Oh! years and years," answered Diamond. + +"You have just been seven days," returned North Wind. + +"I thought I had been a hundred years!" exclaimed Diamond. + +"Yes, I daresay," replied North Wind. "You've been away +from here seven days; but how long you may have been in +there is quite another thing. Behind my back and before +my face things are so different! They don't go at all by the same rule." + +"I'm very glad," said Diamond, after thinking a while. + +"Why?" asked North Wind. + +"Because I've been such a long time there, and such a little while away +from mother. Why, she won't be expecting me home from Sandwich yet!" + +"No. But we mustn't talk any longer. I've got my orders now, +and we must be off in a few minutes." + +Next moment Diamond found himself sitting alone on the rock. +North Wind had vanished. A creature like a great humble-bee or +cockchafer flew past his face; but it could be neither, for there +were no insects amongst the ice. It passed him again and again, +flying in circles around him, and he concluded that it must be +North Wind herself, no bigger than Tom Thumb when his mother put +him in the nutshell lined with flannel. But she was no longer +vapoury and thin. She was solid, although tiny. A moment more, +and she perched on his shoulder. + +"Come along, Diamond," she said in his ear, in the smallest and highest +of treble voices; "it is time we were setting out for Sandwich." + +Diamond could just see her, by turning his head towards +his shoulder as far as he could, but only with one eye, +for his nose came between her and the other. + +"Won't you take me in your arms and carry me?" he said in a whisper, +for he knew she did not like a loud voice when she was small. + +"Ah! you ungrateful boy," returned North Wind, smiling "how dare +you make game of me? Yes, I will carry you, but you shall walk +a bit for your impertinence first. Come along." + +She jumped from his shoulder, but when Diamond looked for her upon +the ground, he could see nothing but a little spider with long legs +that made its way over the ice towards the south. It ran very fast +indeed for a spider, but Diamond ran a long way before it, and then +waited for it. It was up with him sooner than he had expected, +however, and it had grown a good deal. And the spider grew and grew +and went faster and faster, till all at once Diamond discovered +that it was not a spider, but a weasel; and away glided the weasel, +and away went Diamond after it, and it took all the run there was +in him to keep up with the weasel. And the weasel grew, and grew, +and grew, till all at once Diamond saw that the weasel was not +a weasel but a cat. And away went the cat, and Diamond after it. +And when he had run half a mile, he found the cat waiting for him, +sitting up and washing her face not to lose time. And away went +the cat again, and Diamond after it. But the next time he came +up with the cat, the cat was not a cat, but a hunting-leopard. +And the hunting-leopard grew to a jaguar, all covered with spots +like eyes. And the jaguar grew to a Bengal tiger. And at none +of them was Diamond afraid, for he had been at North Wind's back, +and he could be afraid of her no longer whatever she did or grew. +And the tiger flew over the snow in a straight line for the south, +growing less and less to Diamond's eyes till it was only a black +speck upon the whiteness; and then it vanished altogether. +And now Diamond felt that he would rather not run any farther, +and that the ice had got very rough. Besides, he was near the +precipices that bounded the sea, so he slackened his pace to a walk, +saying aloud to himself: + +"When North Wind has punished me enough for making game of her, +she will come back to me; I know she will, for I can't go much +farther without her." + +"You dear boy! It was only in fun. Here I am!" said North Wind's +voice behind him. + +Diamond turned, and saw her as he liked best to see her, +standing beside him, a tall lady. + +"Where's the tiger?" he asked, for he knew all the creatures from +a picture book that Miss Coleman had given him. "But, of course," +he added, "you were the tiger. I was puzzled and forgot. I saw +it such a long way off before me, and there you were behind me. +It's so odd, you know." + +"It must look very odd to you, Diamond: I see that. But it +is no more odd to me than to break an old pine in two." + +"Well, that's odd enough," remarked Diamond. + +"So it is! I forgot. Well, none of these things are odder to me +than it is to you to eat bread and butter." + +"Well, that's odd too, when I think of it," persisted Diamond. +"I should just like a slice of bread and butter! I'm afraid to say +how long it is--how long it seems to me, that is--since I had anything +to eat." + +"Come then," said North Wind, stooping and holding out her arms. +"You shall have some bread and butter very soon. I am glad to find +you want some." + +Diamond held up his arms to meet hers, and was safe upon her bosom. +North Wind bounded into the air. Her tresses began to lift and +rise and spread and stream and flow and flutter; and with a roar +from her hair and an answering roar from one of the great glaciers +beside them, whose slow torrent tumbled two or three icebergs +at once into the waves at their feet, North Wind and Diamond went +flying southwards. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +WHO MET DIAMOND AT SANDWICH + + +As THEY flew, so fast they went that the sea slid away from under +them like a great web of shot silk, blue shot with grey, and green +shot with purple. They went so fast that the stars themselves +appeared to sail away past them overhead, "like golden boats," +on a blue sea turned upside down. And they went so fast that Diamond +himself went the other way as fast--I mean he went fast asleep +in North Wind's arms. + +When he woke, a face was bending over him; but it was not North Wind's; +it was his mother's. He put out his arms to her, and she clasped him +to her bosom and burst out crying. Diamond kissed her again and again +to make her stop. Perhaps kissing is the best thing for crying, +but it will not always stop it. + +"What is the matter, mother?" he said. + +"Oh, Diamond, my darling! you have been so ill!" she sobbed. + +"No, mother dear. I've only been at the back of the north wind," +returned Diamond. + +"I thought you were dead," said his mother. + +But that moment the doctor came in. + +"Oh! there!" said the doctor with gentle cheerfulness; "we're better +to-day, I see." + +Then he drew the mother aside, and told her not to talk to Diamond, +or to mind what he might say; for he must be kept as quiet as possible. +And indeed Diamond was not much inclined to talk, for he felt +very strange and weak, which was little wonder, seeing that all +the time he had been away he had only sucked a few lumps of ice, +and there could not be much nourishment in them. + +Now while he is lying there, getting strong again with chicken +broth and other nice things, I will tell my readers what had been +taking place at his home, for they ought to be told it. + +They may have forgotten that Miss Coleman was in a very poor +state of health. Now there were three reasons for this. +In the first place, her lungs were not strong. In the second place, +there was a gentleman somewhere who had not behaved very well to her. +In the third place, she had not anything particular to do. +These three nots together are enough to make a lady very ill indeed. +Of course she could not help the first cause; but if the other two +causes had not existed, that would have been of little consequence; +she would only have to be a little careful. The second she could not +help quite; but if she had had anything to do, and had done it well, +it would have been very difficult for any man to behave badly to her. +And for this third cause of her illness, if she had had anything +to do that was worth doing, she might have borne his bad behaviour +so that even that would not have made her ill. It is not always easy, +I confess, to find something to do that is worth doing, but the +most difficult things are constantly being done, and she might +have found something if she had tried. Her fault lay in this, +that she had not tried. But, to be sure, her father and mother +were to blame that they had never set her going. Only then again, +nobody had told her father and mother that they ought to set her going +in that direction. So as none of them would find it out of themselves, +North Wind had to teach them. + +We know that North Wind was very busy that night on which she +left Diamond in the cathedral. She had in a sense been blowing +through and through the Colemans' house the whole of the night. +First, Miss Coleman's maid had left a chink of her mistress's +window open, thinking she had shut it, and North Wind had wound +a few of her hairs round the lady's throat. She was considerably +worse the next morning. Again, the ship which North Wind had sunk +that very night belonged to Mr. Coleman. Nor will my readers +understand what a heavy loss this was to him until I have informed +them that he had been getting poorer and poorer for some time. +He was not so successful in his speculations as he had been, for he +speculated a great deal more than was right, and it was time he +should be pulled up. It is a hard thing for a rich man to grow poor; +but it is an awful thing for him to grow dishonest, and some kinds +of speculation lead a man deep into dishonesty before he thinks +what he is about. Poverty will not make a man worthless--he may be +worth a great deal more when he is poor than he was when he was rich; +but dishonesty goes very far indeed to make a man of no value-- +a thing to be thrown out in the dust-hole of the creation, +like a bit of a broken basin, or a dirty rag. So North Wind had +to look after Mr. Coleman, and try to make an honest man of him. +So she sank the ship which was his last venture, and he was what +himself and his wife and the world called ruined. + +Nor was this all yet. For on board that vessel Miss Coleman's +lover was a passenger; and when the news came that the vessel had +gone down, and that all on board had perished, we may be sure she +did not think the loss of their fine house and garden and furniture +the greatest misfortune in the world. + +Of course, the trouble did not end with Mr. Coleman and his family. +Nobody can suffer alone. When the cause of suffering is most deeply +hidden in the heart, and nobody knows anything about it but the +man himself, he must be a great and a good man indeed, such as few +of us have known, if the pain inside him does not make him behave +so as to cause all about him to be more or less uncomfortable. +But when a man brings money-troubles on himself by making haste +to be rich, then most of the people he has to do with must suffer +in the same way with himself. The elm-tree which North Wind blew +down that very night, as if small and great trials were to be +gathered in one heap, crushed Miss Coleman's pretty summer-house: +just so the fall of Mr. Coleman crushed the little family that +lived over his coach-house and stable. Before Diamond was well +enough to be taken home, there was no home for him to go to. +Mr. Coleman--or his creditors, for I do not know the particulars-- +had sold house, carriage, horses, furniture, and everything. +He and his wife and daughter and Mrs. Crump had gone to live +in a small house in Hoxton, where he would be unknown, +and whence he could walk to his place of business in the City. +For he was not an old man, and hoped yet to retrieve his fortunes. +Let us hope that he lived to retrieve his honesty, the tail +of which had slipped through his fingers to the very last joint, +if not beyond it. + +Of course, Diamond's father had nothing to do for a time, but it was +not so hard for him to have nothing to do as it was for Miss Coleman. +He wrote to his wife that, if her sister would keep her there till +he got a place, it would be better for them, and he would be greatly +obliged to her. Meantime, the gentleman who had bought the house +had allowed his furniture to remain where it was for a little while. + +Diamond's aunt was quite willing to keep them as long as she could. +And indeed Diamond was not yet well enough to be moved with safety. + +When he had recovered so far as to be able to go out, one day his +mother got her sister's husband, who had a little pony-cart, to carry +them down to the sea-shore, and leave them there for a few hours. +He had some business to do further on at Ramsgate, and would pick them +up as he returned. A whiff of the sea-air would do them both good, +she said, and she thought besides she could best tell Diamond +what had happened if she had him quite to herself. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SEASIDE + + +DIAMOND and his mother sat down upon the edge of the rough grass +that bordered the sand. The sun was just far enough past its +highest not to shine in their eyes when they looked eastward. +A sweet little wind blew on their left side, and comforted the +mother without letting her know what it was that comforted her. +Away before them stretched the sparkling waters of the ocean, +every wave of which flashed out its own delight back in the face +of the great sun, which looked down from the stillness of its blue +house with glorious silent face upon its flashing children. +On each hand the shore rounded outwards, forming a little bay. +There were no white cliffs here, as further north and south, and the +place was rather dreary, but the sky got at them so much the better. +Not a house, not a creature was within sight. Dry sand was about +their feet, and under them thin wiry grass, that just managed to grow +out of the poverty-stricken shore. + +"Oh dear!" said Diamond's mother, with a deep sigh, "it's a sad world!" + +"Is it?" said Diamond. "I didn't know." + +"How should you know, child? You've been too well taken care of, +I trust." + +"Oh yes, I have," returned Diamond. "I'm sorry! I thought you +were taken care of too. I thought my father took care of you. +I will ask him about it. I think he must have forgotten." + +"Dear boy!" said his mother. "your father's the best man in the world." + +"So I thought!" returned Diamond with triumph. "I was sure +of it!--Well, doesn't he take very good care of you?" + +"Yes, yes, he does," answered his mother, bursting into tears. +"But who's to take care of him? And how is he to take care of us +if he's got nothing to eat himself?" + +"Oh dear!" said Diamond with a gasp; "hasn't he got anything +to eat? Oh! I must go home to him." + +"No, no, child. He's not come to that yet. But what's to become +of us, I don't know." + +"Are you very hungry, mother? There's the basket. I thought you +put something to eat in it." + +"O you darling stupid! I didn't say I was hungry," returned his mother, +smiling through her tears. + +"Then I don't understand you at all," said Diamond. "Do tell me +what's the matter." + +"There are people in the world who have nothing to eat, Diamond." + +"Then I suppose they don't stop in it any longer. They--they-- +what you call--die--don't they?" + +"Yes, they do. How would you like that?" + +"I don't know. I never tried. But I suppose they go where they +get something to eat." + +"Like enough they don't want it," said his mother, petulantly. + +"That's all right then," said Diamond, thinking I daresay more +than he chose to put in words. + +"Is it though? Poor boy! how little you know about things! +Mr. Coleman's lost all his money, and your father has nothing to do, +and we shall have nothing to eat by and by." + +"Are you sure, mother?" + +"Sure of what?" + +"Sure that we shall have nothing to eat." + +"No, thank Heaven! I'm not sure of it. I hope not." + +"Then I can't understand it, mother. There's a piece of gingerbread +in the basket, I know." + +"O you little bird! You have no more sense than a sparrow that picks +what it wants, and never thinks of the winter and the frost and, +the snow." + +"Ah--yes--I see. But the birds get through the winter, don't they?" + +"Some of them fall dead on the ground." + +"They must die some time. They wouldn't like to be birds always. +Would you, mother?" + +"What a child it is!" thought his mother, but she said nothing. + +"Oh! now I remember," Diamond went on. "Father told me that day I went +to Epping Forest with him, that the rose-bushes, and the may-bushes, +and the holly-bushes were the bird's barns, for there were the hips, +and the haws, and the holly-berries, all ready for the winter." + +"Yes; that's all very true. So you see the birds are provided for. +But there are no such barns for you and me, Diamond." + +"Ain't there?" + +"No. We've got to work for our bread." + +"Then let's go and work," said Diamond, getting up. + +"It's no use. We've not got anything to do." + +"Then let's wait." + +"Then we shall starve." + +"No. There's the basket. Do you know, mother, I think I shall call +that basket the barn." + +"It's not a very big one. And when it's empty--where are we then?" + +"At auntie's cupboard," returned Diamond promptly. + +"But we can't eat auntie's things all up and leave her to starve." + +"No, no. We'll go back to father before that. He'll have found +a cupboard somewhere by that time." + +"How do you know that?" + +"I don't know it. But I haven't got even a cupboard, and I've always +had plenty to eat. I've heard you say I had too much, sometimes." + +"But I tell you that's because I've had a cupboard for you, child." + +"And when yours was empty, auntie opened hers." + +"But that can't go on." + +"How do you know? I think there must be a big cupboard somewhere, +out of which the little cupboards are filled, you know, mother." + +"Well, I wish I could find the door of that cupboard," said his mother. +But the same moment she stopped, and was silent for a good while. +I cannot tell whether Diamond knew what she was thinking, but I +think I know. She had heard something at church the day before, +which came back upon her--something like this, that she hadn't +to eat for tomorrow as well as for to-day; and that what was not +wanted couldn't be missed. So, instead of saying anything more, +she stretched out her hand for the basket, and she and Diamond had +their dinner. + +And Diamond did enjoy it. For the drive and the fresh air had made +him quite hungry; and he did not, like his mother, trouble himself +about what they should dine off that day week. The fact was he had +lived so long without any food at all at the back of the north wind, +that he knew quite well that food was not essential to existence; +that in fact, under certain circumstances, people could live without +it well enough. + +His mother did not speak much during their dinner. After it was +over she helped him to walk about a little, but he was not able +for much and soon got tired. He did not get fretful, though. +He was too glad of having the sun and the wind again, to fret +because he could not run about. He lay down on the dry sand, +and his mother covered him with a shawl. She then sat by his side, +and took a bit of work from her pocket. But Diamond felt rather +sleepy, and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the sand. +A few yards off he saw something fluttering. + +"What is that, mother?" he said. + +"Only a bit of paper," she answered. + +"It flutters more than a bit of paper would, I think," said Diamond. + +"I'll go and see if you like," said his mother. "My eyes are none +of the best." + +So she rose and went and found that they were both right, for it +was a little book, partly buried in the sand. But several of its +leaves were clear of the sand, and these the wind kept blowing about +in a very flutterful manner. She took it up and brought it to Diamond. + +"What is it, mother?" he asked. + +"Some nursery rhymes, I think," she answered. + +"I'm too sleepy," said Diamond. "Do read some of them to me." + +"Yes, I will," she said, and began one.--"But this is such nonsense!" +she said again. "I will try to find a better one." + +She turned the leaves searching, but three times, with sudden puffs, +the wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses. + +"Do read that one," said Diamond, who seemed to be of the same mind +as the wind. "It sounded very nice. I am sure it is a good one." + +So his mother thought it might amuse him, though she couldn't +find any sense in it. She never thought he might understand it, +although she could not. + +Now I do not exactly know what the mother read, but this is +what Diamond heard, or thought afterwards that he had heard. +He was, however, as I have said, very sleepy. And when he thought he +understood the verses he may have been only dreaming better ones. +This is how they went-- + +I know a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the +shallows dumb in the hollows sleeping so deep and all the swallows +that dip their feathers in the hollows or in the shallows are the +merriest swallows of all for the nests they bake with the clay they +cake with the water they shake from their wings that rake the water +out of the shallows or the hollows will hold together in any weather +and so the swallows are the merriest fellows and have the merriest +children and are built so narrow like the head of an arrow to cut +the air and go just where the nicest water is flowing and the nicest +dust is blowing for each so narrow like head of an arrow is only +a barrow to carry the mud he makes from the nicest water flowing +and the nicest dust that is blowing to build his nest for her he +loves best with the nicest cakes which the sunshine bakes all for +their merry children all so callow with beaks that follow gaping +and hollow wider and wider after their father or after their mother +the food-provider who brings them a spider or a worm the poor hider +down in the earth so there's no dearth for their beaks as yellow +as the buttercups growing beside the flowing of the singing river +always and ever growing and blowing for fast as the sheep awake +or asleep crop them and crop them they cannot stop them but up they +creep and on they go blowing and so with the daisies the little +white praises they grow and they blow and they spread out their +crown and they praise the sun and when he goes down their praising +is done and they fold up their crown and they sleep every one till +over the plain he's shining amain and they're at it again praising +and praising such low songs raising that no one hears them but the sun +who rears them and the sheep that bite them are the quietest sheep +awake or asleep with the merriest bleat and the little lambs are +the merriest lambs they forget to eat for the frolic in their feet +and the lambs and their dams are the whitest sheep with the woolliest +wool and the longest wool and the trailingest tails and they shine +like snow in the grasses that grow by the singing river that sings +for ever and the sheep and the lambs are merry for ever because the +river sings and they drink it and the lambs and their dams are quiet +and white because of their diet for what they bite is buttercups +yellow and daisies white and grass as green as the river can make +it with wind as mellow to kiss it and shake it as never was seen +but here in the hollows beside the river where all the swallows +are merriest of fellows for the nests they make with the clay they +cake in the sunshine bake till they are like bone as dry in the wind +as a marble stone so firm they bind the grass in the clay that dries +in the wind the sweetest wind that blows by the river flowing +for ever but never you find whence comes the wind that blows on +the hollows and over the shallows where dip the swallows alive it +blows the life as it goes awake or asleep into the river that sings +as it flows and the life it blows into the sheep awake or asleep +with the woolliest wool and the trailingest tails and it never fails +gentle and cool to wave the wool and to toss the grass as the lambs +and the sheep over it pass and tug and bite with their teeth +so white and then with the sweep of their trailing tails smooth +it again and it grows amain and amain it grows and the wind as it +blows tosses the swallows over the hollows and down on the shallows +till every feather doth shake and quiver and all their feathers go +all together blowing the life and the joy so rife into the swallows +that skim the shallows and have the yellowest children for the wind +that blows is the life of the river flowing for ever that washes +the grasses still as it passes and feeds the daisies the little +white praises and buttercups bonny so golden and sunny with butter +and honey that whiten the sheep awake or asleep that nibble and bite +and grow whiter than white and merry and quiet on the sweet diet fed +by the river and tossed for ever by the wind that tosses the swallow +that crosses over the shallows dipping his wings to gather the water +and bake the cake that the wind shall make as hard as a bone as dry +as a stone it's all in the wind that blows from behind and all in +the river that flows for ever and all in the grasses and the white +daisies and the merry sheep awake or asleep and the happy swallows +skimming the shallows and it's all in the wind that blows from behind + + +Here Diamond became aware that his mother had stopped reading. + +"Why don't you go on, mother dear?" he asked. + +"It's such nonsense!" said his mother. "I believe it would go +on for ever." + +"That's just what it did," said Diamond. + +"What did?" she asked. + +"Why, the river. That's almost the very tune it used to sing." + +His mother was frightened, for she thought the fever was coming +on again. So she did not contradict him. + +"Who made that poem?" asked Diamond. + +"I don't know," she answered. "Some silly woman for her children, +I suppose--and then thought it good enough to print." + +"She must have been at the back of the north wind some time +or other, anyhow," said Diamond. "She couldn't have got a hold of it +anywhere else. That's just how it went." And he began to chant +bits of it here and there; but his mother said nothing for fear +of making him, worse; and she was very glad indeed when she saw +her brother-in-law jogging along in his little cart. They lifted +Diamond in, and got up themselves, and away they went, "home again, +home again, home again," as Diamond sang. But he soon grew quiet, +and before they reached Sandwich he was fast asleep and dreaming +of the country at the back of the north wind. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +OLD DIAMOND + + +AFTER this Diamond recovered so fast, that in a few days he was quite +able to go home as soon as his father had a place for them to go. +Now his father having saved a little money, and finding that no +situation offered itself, had been thinking over a new plan. +A strange occurrence it was which turned his thoughts in that direction. +He had a friend in the Bloomsbury region, who lived by letting +out cabs and horses to the cabmen. This man, happening to meet +him one day as he was returning from an unsuccessful application, +said to him: + +"Why don't you set up for yourself now--in the cab line, I mean?" + +"I haven't enough for that," answered Diamond's father. + +"You must have saved a goodish bit, I should think. Just come home +with me now and look at a horse I can let you have cheap. I bought him +only a few weeks ago, thinking he'd do for a Hansom, but I was wrong. +He's got bone enough for a waggon, but a waggon ain't a Hansom. +He ain't got go enough for a Hansom. You see parties as takes +Hansoms wants to go like the wind, and he ain't got wind enough, +for he ain't so young as he once was. But for a four-wheeler +as takes families and their luggages, he's the very horse. +He'd carry a small house any day. I bought him cheap, and I'll sell +him cheap." + +"Oh, I don't want him," said Diamond's father. "A body must have +time to think over an affair of so much importance. And there's +the cab too. That would come to a deal of money." + +"I could fit you there, I daresay," said his friend. "But come +and look at the animal, anyhow." + +"Since I lost my own old pair, as was Mr. Coleman's," +said Diamond's father, turning to accompany the cab-master, +"I ain't almost got the heart to look a horse in the face. +It's a thousand pities to part man and horse." + +"So it is," returned his friend sympathetically. + +But what was the ex-coachman's delight, when, on going into the +stable where his friend led him, he found the horse he wanted him +to buy was no other than his own old Diamond, grown very thin +and bony and long-legged, as if they, had been doing what they +could to fit him for Hansom work! + +"He ain't a Hansom horse," said Diamond's father indignantly. + +"Well, you're right. He ain't handsome, but he's a good un" +said his owner. + +"Who says he ain't handsome? He's one of the handsomest horses +a gentleman's coachman ever druv," said Diamond's father; +remarking to himself under his breath--"though I says it as shouldn't"-- +for he did not feel inclined all at once to confess that his own +old horse could have sunk so low. + +"Well," said his friend, "all I say is--There's a animal for you, +as strong as a church; an'll go like a train, leastways a parly," +he added, correcting himself. + +But the coachman had a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. +For the old horse, hearing his voice, had turned his long neck, +and when his old friend went up to him and laid his hand on his side, +he whinnied for joy, and laid his big head on his master's breast. +This settled the matter. The coachman's arms were round the +horse's neck in a moment, and he fairly broke down and cried. +The cab-master had never been so fond of a horse himself as to hug +him like that, but he saw in a moment how it was. And he must +have been a good-hearted fellow, for I never heard of such an idea +coming into the head of any other man with a horse to sell: +instead of putting something on to the price because he was now +pretty sure of selling him, he actually took a pound off what he +had meant to ask for him, saying to himself it was a shame to part +old friends. + +Diamond's father, as soon as he came to himself, turned and asked +how much he wanted for the horse. + +"I see you're old friends," said the owner. + +"It's my own old Diamond. I liked him far the best of the pair, +though the other was good. You ain't got him too, have you?" + +"No; nothing in the stable to match him there." + +"I believe you," said the coachman. "But you'll be wanting a long +price for him, I know." + +"No, not so much. I bought him cheap, and as I say, he ain't +for my work." + +The end of it was that Diamond's father bought old Diamond again, +along with a four-wheeled cab. And as there were some rooms to be +had over the stable, he took them, wrote to his wife to come home, +and set up as a cabman. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE MEWS + + +IT WAS late in the afternoon when Diamond and his mother and the baby +reached London. I was so full of Diamond that I forgot to tell you +a baby had arrived in the meantime. His father was waiting for them +with his own cab, but they had not told Diamond who the horse was; +for his father wanted to enjoy the pleasure of his surprise when he +found it out. He got in with his mother without looking at the horse, +and his father having put up Diamond's carpet-bag and his mother's +little trunk, got upon the box himself and drove off; and Diamond +was quite proud of riding home in his father's own carriage. +But when he got to the mews, he could not help being a little dismayed +at first; and if he had never been to the back of the north wind, +I am afraid he would have cried a little. But instead of that, +he said to himself it was a fine thing all the old furniture was there. +And instead of helping his mother to be miserable at the change, +he began to find out all the advantages of the place; for every +place has some advantages, and they are always better worth knowing +than the disadvantages. Certainly the weather was depressing, +for a thick, dull, persistent rain was falling by the time they +reached home. But happily the weather is very changeable; +and besides, there was a good fire burning in the room, which their +neighbour with the drunken husband had attended to for them; and the +tea-things were put out, and the kettle was boiling on the fire. +And with a good fire, and tea and bread and butter, things cannot +be said to be miserable. + +Diamond's father and mother were, notwithstanding, rather miserable, +and Diamond began to feel a kind of darkness beginning to spread +over his own mind. But the same moment he said to himself, +"This will never do. I can't give in to this. I've been to the back +of the north wind. Things go right there, and so I must try to get +things to go right here. I've got to fight the miserable things. +They shan't make me miserable if I can help it." I do not mean +that he thought these very words. They are perhaps too grown-up +for him to have thought, but they represent the kind of thing that +was in his heart and his head. And when heart and head go together, +nothing can stand before them. + +"What nice bread and butter this is!" said Diamond. + +"I'm glad you like it, my dear" said his father. "I bought +the butter myself at the little shop round the corner." + +"It's very nice, thank you, father. Oh, there's baby waking! +I'll take him." + +"Sit still, Diamond," said his mother. "Go on with your bread +and butter. You're not strong enough to lift him yet." + +So she took the baby herself, and set him on her knee. Then Diamond +began to amuse him, and went on till the little fellow was shrieking +with laughter. For the baby's world was his mother's arms; +and the drizzling rain, and the dreary mews, and even his father's +troubled face could not touch him. What cared baby for the loss +of a hundred situations? Yet neither father nor mother thought +him hard-hearted because he crowed and laughed in the middle +of their troubles. On the contrary, his crowing and laughing +were infectious. His little heart was so full of merriment that it +could not hold it all, and it ran over into theirs. Father and +mother began to laugh too, and Diamond laughed till he had a fit +of coughing which frightened his mother, and made them all stop. +His father took the baby, and his mother put him to bed. + +But it was indeed a change to them all, not only from Sandwich, +but from their old place, instead of the great river where the huge +barges with their mighty brown and yellow sails went tacking +from side to side like little pleasure-skiffs, and where the long +thin boats shot past with eight and sometimes twelve rowers, +their windows now looked out upon a dirty paved yard. And there +was no garden more for Diamond to run into when he pleased, with gay +flowers about his feet, and solemn sun-filled trees over his head. +Neither was there a wooden wall at the back of his bed with a hole +in it for North Wind to come in at when she liked. Indeed, there was +such a high wall, and there were so many houses about the mews, +that North Wind seldom got into the place at all, except when something +must be done, and she had a grand cleaning out like other housewives; +while the partition at the head of Diamond's new bed only divided +it from the room occupied by a cabman who drank too much beer, +and came home chiefly to quarrel with his wife and pinch his children. +It was dreadful to Diamond to hear the scolding and the crying. +But it could not make him miserable, because he had been at the back of +the north wind. + +If my reader find it hard to believe that Diamond should be so good, +he must remember that he had been to the back of the north wind. +If he never knew a boy so good, did he ever know a boy that had been +to the back of the north wind? It was not in the least strange +of Diamond to behave as he did; on the contrary, it was thoroughly +sensible of him. + +We shall see how he got on. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +DIAMOND MAKES A BEGINNING + + +THE wind blew loud, but Diamond slept a deep sleep, and never heard it. +My own impression is that every time when Diamond slept well and +remembered nothing about it in the morning, he had been all that night +at the back of the north wind. I am almost sure that was how he +woke so refreshed, and felt so quiet and hopeful all the day. +Indeed he said this much, though not to me--that always when he +woke from such a sleep there was a something in his mind, he could +not tell what--could not tell whether it was the last far-off sounds +of the river dying away in the distance, or some of the words +of the endless song his mother had read to him on the sea-shore. +Sometimes he thought it must have been the twittering of the swallows-- +over the shallows, you, know; but it may have been the chirping +of the dingy sparrows picking up their breakfast in the yard-- +how can I tell? I don't know what I know, I only know what I think; +and to tell the truth, I am more for the swallows than the sparrows. +When he knew he was coming awake, he would sometimes try hard +to keep hold of the words of what seemed a new song, one he had +not heard before--a song in which the words and the music somehow +appeared to be all one; but even when he thought he had got them +well fixed in his mind, ever as he came awaker--as he would say-- +one line faded away out of it, and then another, and then another, +till at last there was nothing left but some lovely picture of water +or grass or daisies, or something else very common, but with all the +commonness polished off it, and the lovely soul of it, which people +so seldom see, and, alas! yet seldomer believe in, shining out. +But after that he would sing the oddest, loveliest little songs +to the baby--of his own making, his mother said; but Diamond said he +did not make them; they were made somewhere inside him, and he knew +nothing about them till they were coming out. + +When he woke that first morning he got up at once, saying to himself, +"I've been ill long enough, and have given a great deal of trouble; +I must try and be of use now, and help my mother." When he went into +her room he found her lighting the fire, and his father just getting +out of bed. They had only the one room, besides the little one, +not much more than a closet, in which Diamond slept. He began at +once to set things to rights, but the baby waking up, he took him, +and nursed him till his mother had got the breakfast ready. +She was looking gloomy, and his father was silent; and indeed except +Diamond had done all he possibly could to keep out the misery +that was trying to get in at doors and windows, he too would have +grown miserable, and then they would have been all miserable together. +But to try to make others comfortable is the only way to get right +comfortable ourselves, and that comes partly of not being able +to think so much about ourselves when we are helping other people. +For our Selves will always do pretty well if we don't pay them +too much attention. Our Selves are like some little children who +will be happy enough so long as they are left to their own games, +but when we begin to interfere with them, and make them presents +of too nice playthings, or too many sweet things, they begin at once +to fret and spoil. + +"Why, Diamond, child!" said his mother at last, "you're as good to +your mother as if you were a girl--nursing the baby, and toasting +the bread, and sweeping up the hearth! I declare a body would +think you had been among the fairies." + +Could Diamond have had greater praise or greater pleasure? +You see when he forgot his Self his mother took care of his Self, +and loved and praised his Self. Our own praises poison our Selves, +and puff and swell them up, till they lose all shape and beauty, +and become like great toadstools. But the praises of father or mother +do our Selves good, and comfort them and make them beautiful. +They never do them any harm. If they do any harm, it comes of our +mixing some of our own praises with them, and that turns them nasty +and slimy and poisonous. + +When his father had finished his breakfast, which he did rather +in a hurry, he got up and went down into the yard to get out his +horse and put him to the cab. + +"Won't you come and see the cab, Diamond?" he said. + +"Yes, please, father--if mother can spare me a minute," answered Diamond. + +"Bless the child! I don't want him," said his mother cheerfully. + +But as he was following his father out of the door, she called +him back. + +"Diamond, just hold the baby one minute. I have something to say +to your father." + +So Diamond sat down again, took the baby in his lap, and began poking +his face into its little body, laughing and singing all the while, +so that the baby crowed like a little bantam. And what he sang was +something like this--such nonsense to those that couldn't understand +it! but not to the baby, who got all the good in the world out of it:-- + +baby's a-sleeping wake up baby for all the swallows are the merriest +fellows and have the yellowest children who would go sleeping +and snore like a gaby disturbing his mother and father and brother +and all a-boring their ears with his snoring snoring snoring for +himself and no other for himself in particular wake up baby sit up +perpendicular hark to the gushing hark to the rushing where the +sheep are the woolliest and the lambs the unruliest and their tails +the whitest and their eyes the brightest and baby's the bonniest +and baby's the funniest and baby's the shiniest and baby's the tiniest +and baby's the merriest and baby's the worriest of all the lambs +that plague their dams and mother's the whitest of all the dams +that feed the lambs that go crop-cropping without stop-stopping +and father's the best of all the swallows that build their nest out +of the shining shallows and he has the merriest children that's baby +and Diamond and Diamond and baby and baby and Diamond and Diamond and baby + + +Here Diamond's knees went off in a wild dance which tossed the baby +about and shook the laughter out of him in immoderate peals. +His mother had been listening at the door to the last few lines +of his song, and came in with the tears in her eyes. She took the +baby from him, gave him a kiss, and told him to run to his father. + +By the time Diamond got into the yard, the horse was between the shafts, +and his father was looping the traces on. Diamond went round +to look at the horse. The sight of him made him feel very queer. +He did not know much about different horses, and all other horses +than their own were very much the same to him. But he could +not make it out. This was Diamond and it wasn't Diamond. +Diamond didn't hang his head like that; yet the head that was +hanging was very like the one that Diamond used to hold so high. +Diamond's bones didn't show through his skin like that; but the +skin they pushed out of shape so was very like Diamond's skin; +and the bones might be Diamond's bones, for he had never seen the +shape of them. But when he came round in front of the old horse, +and he put out his long neck, and began sniffing at him and rubbing +his upper lip and his nose on him, then Diamond saw it could be no +other than old Diamond, and he did just as his father had done before-- +put his arms round his neck and cried--but not much. + +"Ain't it jolly, father?" he said. "Was there ever anybody so lucky +as me? Dear old Diamond!" + +And he hugged the horse again, and kissed both his big hairy cheeks. +He could only manage one at a time, however--the other cheek was +so far off on the other side of his big head. + +His father mounted the box with just the same air, as Diamond thought, +with which he had used to get upon the coach-box, and Diamond said +to himself, "Father's as grand as ever anyhow." He had kept his +brown livery-coat, only his wife had taken the silver buttons off +and put brass ones instead, because they did not think it polite +to Mr. Coleman in his fallen fortunes to let his crest be seen +upon the box of a cab. Old Diamond had kept just his collar; +and that had the silver crest upon it still, for his master thought +nobody would notice that, and so let it remain for a memorial +of the better days of which it reminded him--not unpleasantly, +seeing it had been by no fault either of his or of the old horse's +that they had come down in the world together. + +"Oh, father, do let me drive a bit," said Diamond, jumping up +on the box beside him. + +His father changed places with him at once, putting the reins +into his hands. Diamond gathered them up eagerly. + +"Don't pull at his mouth," said his father. "just feel, +at it gently to let him know you're there and attending to him. +That's what I call talking to him through the reins." + +"Yes, father, I understand," said Diamond. Then to the horse he said, +"Go on Diamond." And old Diamond's ponderous bulk began at once +to move to the voice of the little boy. + +But before they had reached the entrance of the mews, another voice +called after young Diamond, which, in his turn, he had to obey, +for it was that of his mother. "Diamond! Diamond!" it cried; +and Diamond pulled the reins, and the horse stood still as a stone. + +"Husband," said his mother, coming up, "you're never going to trust +him with the reins--a baby like that?" + +"He must learn some day, and he can't begin too soon. I see already +he's a born coachman," said his father proudly. "And I don't see +well how he could escape it, for my father and my grandfather, +that's his great-grandfather, was all coachmen, I'm told; so it +must come natural to him, any one would think. Besides, you see, +old Diamond's as proud of him as we are our own selves, wife. Don't you +see how he's turning round his ears, with the mouths of them open, +for the first word he speaks to tumble in? He's too well bred +to turn his head, you know." + +"Well, but, husband, I can't do without him to-day. Everything's +got to be done, you know. It's my first day here. And there's +that baby!" + +"Bless you, wife! I never meant to take him away--only to the +bottom of Endell Street. He can watch his way back." + +"No thank you, father; not to-day," said Diamond. "Mother wants me. +Perhaps she'll let me go another day." + +"Very well, my man," said his father, and took the reins which +Diamond was holding out to him. + +Diamond got down, a little disappointed of course, and went with +his mother, who was too pleased to speak. She only took hold +of his hand as tight as if she had been afraid of his running +away instead of glad that he would not leave her. + +Now, although they did not know it, the owner of the stables, +the same man who had sold the horse to his father, had been standing +just inside one of the stable-doors, with his hands in his pockets, +and had heard and seen all that passed; and from that day John +Stonecrop took a great fancy to the little boy. And this was the +beginning of what came of it. + +The same evening, just as Diamond was feeling tired of the day's work, +and wishing his father would come home, Mr. Stonecrop knocked +at the door. His mother went and opened it. + +"Good evening, ma'am," said he. "Is the little master in?" + +"Yes, to be sure he is--at your service, I'm sure, Mr. Stonecrop," +said his mother. + +"No, no, ma'am; it's I'm at his service. I'm just a-going out +with my own cab, and if he likes to come with me, he shall drive +my old horse till he's tired." + +"It's getting rather late for him," said his mother thoughtfully. +"You see he's been an invalid." + +Diamond thought, what a funny thing! How could he have been an invalid +when he did not even know what the word meant? But, of course, +his mother was right. + +"Oh, well," said Mr. Stonecrop, "I can just let him drive through +Bloomsbury Square, and then he shall run home again." + +"Very good, sir. And I'm much obliged to you," said his mother. +And Diamond, dancing with delight, got his cap, put his hand in +Mr. Stonecrop's, and went with him to the yard where the cab was waiting. +He did not think the horse looked nearly so nice as Diamond, +nor Mr. Stonecrop nearly so grand as his father; but he was none, +the less pleased. He got up on the box, and his new friend got up +beside him. + +"What's the horse's name?" whispered Diamond, as he took the reins +from the man. + +"It's not a nice name," said Mr. Stonecrop. "You needn't call him +by it. I didn't give it him. He'll go well enough without it. +Give the boy a whip, Jack. I never carries one when I drive old----" + +He didn't finish the sentence. Jack handed Diamond a whip, +with which, by holding it half down the stick, he managed just +to flack the haunches of the horse; and away he went. + +"Mind the gate," said Mr. Stonecrop; and Diamond did mind the gate, +and guided the nameless horse through it in safety, pulling him this +way and that according as was necessary. Diamond learned to drive +all the sooner that he had been accustomed to do what he was told, +and could obey the smallest hint in a moment. Nothing helps one to get +on like that. Some people don't know how to do what they are told; +they have not been used to it, and they neither understand quickly +nor are able to turn what they do understand into action quickly. +With an obedient mind one learns the rights of things fast enough; +for it is the law of the universe, and to obey is to understand. + +"Look out!" cried Mr. Stonecrop, as they were turning the corner +into Bloomsbury Square. + +It was getting dusky now. A cab was approaching rather rapidly +from the opposite direction, and Diamond pulling aside, and the +other driver pulling up, they only just escaped a collision. +Then they knew each other. + +"Why, Diamond, it's a bad beginning to run into your own father," +cried the driver. + +"But, father, wouldn't it have been a bad ending to run into your +own son?" said Diamond in return; and the two men laughed heartily. + +"This is very kind of you, I'm sure, Stonecrop," said his father. + +"Not a bit. He's a brave fellow, and'll be fit to drive on his own +hook in a week or two. But I think you'd better let him drive you +home now, for his mother don't like his having over much of the +night air, and I promised not to take him farther than the square." + +"Come along then, Diamond," said his father, as he brought his cab +up to the other, and moved off the box to the seat beside it. +Diamond jumped across, caught at the reins, said "Good-night, and +thank you, Mr. Stonecrop," and drove away home, feeling more of a +man than he had ever yet had a chance of feeling in all his life. +Nor did his father find it necessary to give him a single hint +as to his driving. Only I suspect the fact that it was old Diamond, +and old Diamond on his way to his stable, may have had something +to do with young Diamond's success. + +"Well, child," said his mother, when he entered the room, +"you've not been long gone." + +"No, mother; here I am. Give me the baby." + +"The baby's asleep," said his mother. + +"Then give him to me, and I'll lay him down." + +But as Diamond took him, he woke up and began to laugh. +For he was indeed one of the merriest children. And no wonder, +for he was as plump as a plum-pudding, and had never had an +ache or a pain that lasted more than five minutes at a time. +Diamond sat down with him and began to sing to him. + +baby baby babbing your father's gone a-cabbing to catch a shilling +for its pence to make the baby babbing dance for old Diamond's +a duck they say he can swim but the duck of diamonds is baby that's +him and of all the swallows the merriest fellows that bake their +cake with the water they shake out of the river flowing for ever +and make dust into clay on the shiniest day to build their nest +father's the best and mother's the whitest and her eyes are the +brightest of all the dams that watch their lambs cropping the grass +where the waters pass singing for ever and of all the lambs with +the shakingest tails and the jumpingest feet baby's the funniest +baby's the bonniest and he never wails and he's always sweet +and Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his nurse and Diamond's his nurse + + +When Diamond's rhymes grew scarce, he always began dancing the baby. +Some people wondered that such a child could rhyme as he did, +but his rhymes were not very good, for he was only trying to remember +what he had heard the river sing at the back of the north wind. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +DIAMOND GOES ON + + +DIAMOND became a great favourite with all the men about the mews. +Some may think it was not the best place in the world for him +to be brought up in; but it must have been, for there he was. +At first, he heard a good many rough and bad words; but he did +not like them, and so they did him little harm. He did not know +in the least what they meant, but there was something in the very +sound of them, and in the tone of voice in which they were said, +which Diamond felt to be ugly. So they did not even stick to him, +not to say get inside him. He never took any notice of them, +and his face shone pure and good in the middle of them, like a +primrose in a hailstorm. At first, because his face was so quiet +and sweet, with a smile always either awake or asleep in his eyes, +and because he never heeded their ugly words and rough jokes, +they said he wasn't all there, meaning that he was half an idiot, +whereas he was a great deal more there than they had the sense to see. +And before long the bad words found themselves ashamed to come +out of the men's mouths when Diamond was near. The one would +nudge the other to remind him that the boy was within hearing, +and the words choked themselves before they got any farther. +When they talked to him nicely he had always a good answer, sometimes a +smart one, ready, and that helped much to make them change their minds +about him. + +One day Jack gave him a curry-comb and a brush to try his hand +upon old Diamond's coat. He used them so deftly, so gently, +and yet so thoroughly, as far as he could reach, that the man could +not help admiring him. + +"You must make haste and, grow" he said. "It won't do to have +a horse's belly clean and his back dirty, you know." + +"Give me a leg," said Diamond, and in a moment he was on the old +horse's back with the comb and brush. He sat on his withers, +and reaching forward as he ate his hay, he curried and he brushed, +first at one side of his neck, and then at the other. +When that was done he asked for a dressing-comb, and combed +his mane thoroughly. Then he pushed himself on to his back, +and did his shoulders as far down as he could reach. Then he sat +on his croup, and did his back and sides; then he turned around +like a monkey, and attacked his hind-quarters, and combed his tail. +This last was not so easy to manage, for he had to lift it up, +and every now and then old Diamond would whisk it out of his hands, +and once he sent the comb flying out of the stable door, to the +great amusement of the men. But Jack fetched it again, and Diamond +began once more, and did not leave off until he had done the whole +business fairly well, if not in a first-rate, experienced fashion. +All the time the old horse went on eating his hay, and, but with an +occasional whisk of his tail when Diamond tickled or scratched him, +took no notice of the proceeding. But that was all a pretence, +for he knew very well who it was that was perched on his back, +and rubbing away at him with the comb and the brush. So he was +quite pleased and proud, and perhaps said to himself something +like this-- + +"I'm a stupid old horse, who can't brush his own coat; but there's +my young godson on my back, cleaning me like an angel." + +I won't vouch for what the old horse was thinking, for it +is very difficult to find out what any old horse is thinking. + +"Oh dear!" said Diamond when he had done, "I'm so tired!" + +And he laid himself down at full length on old Diamond's back. + +By this time all the men in the stable were gathered about the +two Diamonds, and all much amused. One of them lifted him down, +and from that time he was a greater favourite than before. +And if ever there was a boy who had a chance of being a prodigy +at cab-driving, Diamond was that boy, for the strife came to be +who should have him out with him on the box. + +His mother, however, was a little shy of the company for him, +and besides she could not always spare him. Also his father liked +to have him himself when he could; so that he was more desired +than enjoyed among the cabmen. + +But one way and another he did learn to drive all sorts of horses, +and to drive them well, and that through the most crowded streets +in London City. Of course there was the man always on the box-seat +beside him, but before long there was seldom the least occasion +to take the reins from out of his hands. For one thing he never +got frightened, and consequently was never in too great a hurry. +Yet when the moment came for doing something sharp, he was always +ready for it. I must once more remind my readers that he had been +to the back of the north wind. + +One day, which was neither washing-day, nor cleaning-day nor +marketing-day, nor Saturday, nor Monday--upon which consequently Diamond +could be spared from the baby--his father took him on his own cab. +After a stray job or two by the way, they drew up in the row upon +the stand between Cockspur Street and Pall Mall. They waited +a long time, but nobody seemed to want to be carried anywhere. +By and by ladies would be going home from the Academy exhibition, +and then there would be a chance of a job. + +"Though, to be sure," said Diamond's father--with what truth I +cannot say, but he believed what he said--"some ladies is very hard, +and keeps you to the bare sixpence a mile, when every one knows +that ain't enough to keep a family and a cab upon. To be sure +it's the law; but mayhap they may get more law than they like some +day themselves." + +As it was very hot, Diamond's father got down to have a glass +of beer himself, and give another to the old waterman. He left +Diamond on the box. + +A sudden noise got up, and Diamond looked round to see what was +the matter. + +There was a crossing near the cab-stand, where a girl was sweeping. +Some rough young imps had picked a quarrel with her, and were +now hauling at her broom to get it away from her. But as they +did not pull all together, she was holding it against them, +scolding and entreating alternately. + +Diamond was off his box in a moment, and running to the help of the girl. +He got hold of the broom at her end and pulled along with her. +But the boys proceeded to rougher measures, and one of them hit +Diamond on the nose, and made it bleed; and as he could not let +go the broom to mind his nose, he was soon a dreadful figure. +But presently his father came back, and missing Diamond, looked about. +He had to look twice, however, before he could be sure that that +was his boy in the middle of the tumult. He rushed in, and sent +the assailants flying in all directions. The girl thanked Diamond, +and began sweeping as if nothing had happened, while his father +led him away. With the help of old Tom, the waterman, he was soon +washed into decency, and his father set him on the box again, +perfectly satisfied with the account he gave of the cause of his being +in a fray. + +"I couldn't let them behave so to a poor girl--could I, father?" +he said. + +"Certainly not, Diamond," said his father, quite pleased, +for Diamond's father was a gentleman. + +A moment after, up came the girl, running, with her broom over +her shoulder, and calling, "Cab, there! cab!" + +Diamond's father turned instantly, for he was the foremost in the rank, +and followed the girl. One or two other passing cabs heard the cry, +and made for the place, but the girl had taken care not to call +till she was near enough to give her friends the first chance. +When they reached the curbstone--who should it be waiting for the cab +but Mrs. and Miss Coleman! They did not look at the cabman, however. +The girl opened the door for them; they gave her the address, +and a penny; she told the cabman, and away they drove. + +When they reached the house, Diamond's father got down and rang +the bell. As he opened the door of the cab, he touched his hat +as he had been wont to do. The ladies both stared for a moment, +and then exclaimed together: + +"Why, Joseph! can it be you?" + +"Yes, ma'am; yes, miss," answered he, again touching his hat, +with all the respect he could possibly put into the action. +"It's a lucky day which I see you once more upon it." + +"Who would have thought it?" said Mrs. Coleman. "It's changed +times for both of us, Joseph, and it's not very often we can +have a cab even; but you see my daughter is still very poorly, +and she can't bear the motion of the omnibuses. Indeed we meant +to walk a bit first before we took a cab, but just at the corner, +for as hot as the sun was, a cold wind came down the street, +and I saw that Miss Coleman must not face it. But to think +we should have fallen upon you, of all the cabmen in London! +I didn't know you had got a cab." + +"Well, you see, ma'am, I had a chance of buying the old horse, +and I couldn't resist him. There he is, looking at you, ma'am. Nobody +knows the sense in that head of his." + +The two ladies went near to pat the horse, and then they noticed +Diamond on the box. + +"Why, you've got both Diamonds with you," said Miss Coleman. +"How do you do, Diamond?" + +Diamond lifted his cap, and answered politely. + +"He'll be fit to drive himself before long," said his father, +proudly. "The old horse is a-teaching of him." + +"Well, he must come and see us, now you've found us out. +Where do you live?" + +Diamond's father gave the ladies a ticket with his name and address +printed on it; and then Mrs. Coleman took out her purse, saying: + +"And what's your fare, Joseph?" + +"No, thank you, ma'am," said Joseph. "It was your own old horse +as took you; and me you paid long ago." + +He jumped on his box before she could say another word, +and with a parting salute drove off, leaving them on the pavement, +with the maid holding the door for them. + +It was a long time now since Diamond had seen North Wind, +or even thought much about her. And as his father drove along, +he was thinking not about her, but about the crossing-sweeper, +and was wondering what made him feel as if he knew her quite well, +when he could not remember anything of her. But a picture arose +in his mind of a little girl running before the wind and dragging +her broom after her; and from that, by degrees, he recalled the +whole adventure of the night when he got down from North Wind's +back in a London street. But he could not quite satisfy himself +whether the whole affair was not a dream which he had dreamed +when he was a very little boy. Only he had been to the back of +the north wind since--there could be no doubt of that; for when he +woke every morning, he always knew that he had been there again. +And as he thought and thought, he recalled another thing that had +happened that morning, which, although it seemed a mere accident, +might have something to do with what had happened since. His father +had intended going on the stand at King's Cross that morning, and had +turned into Gray's Inn Lane to drive there, when they found the way +blocked up, and upon inquiry were informed that a stack of chimneys +had been blown down in the night, and had fallen across the road. +They were just clearing the rubbish away. Diamond's father turned, +and made for Charing Cross. + +That night the father and mother had a great deal to talk about. + +"Poor things!" said the mother. "it's worse for them than it +is for us. You see they've been used to such grand things, +and for them to come down to a little poky house like that-- +it breaks my heart to think of it." + +"I don't know" said Diamond thoughtfully, "whether Mrs. Coleman +had bells on her toes." + +"What do you mean, child?" said his mother. + +"She had rings on her fingers, anyhow," returned Diamond. + +"Of course she had, as any lady would. What has that to do with it?" + +"When we were down at Sandwich," said Diamond, "you said you would +have to part with your mother's ring, now we were poor." + +"Bless the child; he forgets nothing," said his mother. +"Really, Diamond, a body would need to mind what they say to you." + +"Why?" said Diamond. "I only think about it." + +"That's just why," said the mother. + +"Why is that why?" persisted Diamond, for he had not yet learned +that grown-up people are not often so much grown up that they +never talk like children--and spoilt ones too. + +"Mrs. Coleman is none so poor as all that yet. No, thank Heaven! +she's not come to that." + +"Is it a great disgrace to be poor?" asked Diamond, because of +the tone in which his mother had spoken. + +But his mother, whether conscience-stricken I do not know hurried +him away to bed, where after various attempts to understand her, +resumed and resumed again in spite of invading sleep, he was +conquered at last, and gave in, murmuring over and over to himself, +"Why is why?" but getting no answer to the question. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE DRUNKEN CABMAN + + +A FEW nights after this, Diamond woke up suddenly, believing he heard +North Wind thundering along. But it was something quite different. +South Wind was moaning round the chimneys, to be sure, for she +was not very happy that night, but it was not her voice that had +wakened Diamond. Her voice would only have lulled him the deeper asleep. +It was a loud, angry voice, now growling like that of a beast, +now raving like that of a madman; and when Diamond came a little +wider awake, he knew that it was the voice of the drunken cabman, +the wall of whose room was at the head of his bed. It was anything +but pleasant to hear, but he could not help hearing it. At length +there came a cry from the woman, and then a scream from the baby. +Thereupon Diamond thought it time that somebody did something, +and as himself was the only somebody at hand, he must go and see +whether he could not do something. So he got up and put on part +of his clothes, and went down the stair, for the cabman's room did +not open upon their stair, and he had to go out into the yard, +and in at the next door. This, fortunately, the cabman, being drunk, +had left open. By the time he reached their stair, all was still except +the voice of the crying baby, which guided him to the right door. +He opened it softly, and peeped in. There, leaning back in a chair, +with his arms hanging down by his sides, and his legs stretched +out before him and supported on his heels, sat the drunken cabman. +His wife lay in her clothes upon the bed, sobbing, and the baby was +wailing in the cradle. It was very miserable altogether. + +Now the way most people do when they see anything very miserable +is to turn away from the sight, and try to forget it. But Diamond +began as usual to try to destroy the misery. The little boy was just +as much one of God's messengers as if he had been an angel with a +flaming sword, going out to fight the devil. The devil he had to fight +just then was Misery. And the way he fought him was the very best. +Like a wise soldier, he attacked him first in his weakest point-- +that was the, baby; for Misery can never get such a hold of a baby +as of a grown person. Diamond was knowing in babies, and he knew he +could do something to make the baby, happy; for although he had only +known one baby as yet, and although not one baby is the same as another, +yet they are so very much alike in some things, and he knew that one +baby so thoroughly, that he had good reason to believe he could do +something for any other. I have known people who would have begun +to fight the devil in a very different and a very stupid way. +They would have begun by scolding the idiotic cabman; and next they +would make his wife angry by saying it must be her fault as well +as his, and by leaving ill-bred though well-meant shabby little +books for them to read, which they were sure to hate the sight of; +while all the time they would not have put out a finger to touch +the wailing baby. But Diamond had him out of the cradle in a moment, +set him up on his knee, and told him to look at the light. +Now all the light there was came only from a lamp in the yard, +and it was a very dingy and yellow light, for the glass of the lamp +was dirty, and the gas was bad; but the light that came from +it was, notwithstanding, as certainly light as if it had come +from the sun itself, and the baby knew that, and smiled to it; +and although it was indeed a wretched room which that lamp lighted-- +so dreary, and dirty, and empty, and hopeless!--there in the middle +of it sat Diamond on a stool, smiling to the baby, and the baby on his +knees smiling to the lamp. The father of him sat staring at nothing, +neither asleep nor awake, not quite lost in stupidity either, +for through it all he was dimly angry with himself, he did not +know why. It was that he had struck his wife. He had forgotten it, +but was miserable about it, notwithstanding. And this misery was the +voice of the great Love that had made him and his wife and the baby +and Diamond, speaking in his heart, and telling him to be good. +For that great Love speaks in the most wretched and dirty hearts; +only the tone of its voice depends on the echoes of the place in which +it sounds. On Mount Sinai, it was thunder; in the cabman's heart +it was misery; in the soul of St. John it was perfect blessedness. + +By and by he became aware that there was a voice of singing in the room. +This, of course, was the voice of Diamond singing to the baby-- +song after song, every one as foolish as another to the cabman, +for he was too tipsy to part one word from another: all the words +mixed up in his ear in a gurgle without division or stop; for such +was the way he spoke himself, when he was in this horrid condition. +But the baby was more than content with Diamond's songs, and Diamond +himself was so contented with what the songs were all about, that he did +not care a bit about the songs themselves, if only baby liked them. +But they did the cabman good as well as the baby and Diamond, +for they put him to sleep, and the sleep was busy all the time +it lasted, smoothing the wrinkles out of his temper. + +At length Diamond grew tired of singing, and began to talk +to the baby instead. And as soon as he stopped singing, +the cabman began to wake up. His brain was a little clearer now, +his temper a little smoother, and his heart not quite so dirty. +He began to listen and he went on listening, and heard Diamond +saying to the baby something like this, for he thought the cabman +was asleep: + +"Poor daddy! Baby's daddy takes too much beer and gin, and that +makes him somebody else, and not his own self at all. Baby's daddy +would never hit baby's mammy if he didn't take too much beer. +He's very fond of baby's mammy, and works from morning to night +to get her breakfast and dinner and supper, only at night he forgets, +and pays the money away for beer. And they put nasty stuff in beer, +I've heard my daddy say, that drives all the good out, and lets all +the bad in. Daddy says when a man takes a drink, there's a thirsty +devil creeps into his inside, because he knows he will always get +enough there. And the devil is always crying out for more drink, +and that makes the man thirsty, and so he drinks more and more, +till he kills himself with it. And then the ugly devil creeps +out of him, and crawls about on his belly, looking for some other +cabman to get into, that he may drink, drink, drink. That's what my +daddy says, baby. And he says, too, the only way to make the devil +come out is to give him plenty of cold water and tea and coffee, +and nothing at all that comes from the public-house; for the devil +can't abide that kind of stuff, and creeps out pretty soon, for fear +of being drowned in it. But your daddy will drink the nasty stuff, +poor man! I wish he wouldn't, for it makes mammy cross with him, +and no wonder! and then when mammy's cross, he's crosser, +and there's nobody in the house to take care of them but baby; +and you do take care of them, baby--don't you, baby? I know you do. +Babies always take care of their fathers and mothers--don't they, baby? +That's what they come for--isn't it, baby? And when daddy stops +drinking beer and nasty gin with turpentine in it, father says, +then mammy will be so happy, and look so pretty! and daddy will +be so good to baby! and baby will be as happy as a swallow, +which is the merriest fellow! And Diamond will be so happy too! +And when Diamond's a man, he'll take baby out with him on the box, +and teach him to drive a cab." + +He went on with chatter like this till baby was asleep, by which +time he was tired, and father and mother were both wide awake-- +only rather confused--the one from the beer, the other from the blow-- +and staring, the one from his chair, the other from her bed, +at Diamond. But he was quite unaware of their notice, for he +sat half-asleep, with his eyes wide open, staring in his turn, +though without knowing it, at the cabman, while the cabman could +not withdraw his gaze from Diamond's white face and big eyes. +For Diamond's face was always rather pale, and now it was paler than +usual with sleeplessness, and the light of the street-lamp upon it. +At length he found himself nodding, and he knew then it was time +to put the baby down, lest he should let him fall. So he rose from +the little three-legged stool, and laid the baby in the cradle, +and covered him up--it was well it was a warm night, and he did not +want much covering--and then he all but staggered out of the door, +he was so tipsy himself with sleep. + +"Wife," said the cabman, turning towards the bed, "I do somehow believe +that wur a angel just gone. Did you see him, wife? He warn't wery big, +and he hadn't got none o' them wingses, you know. It wur one o' +them baby-angels you sees on the gravestones, you know." + +"Nonsense, hubby!" said his wife; "but it's just as good. +I might say better, for you can ketch hold of him when you like. +That's little Diamond as everybody knows, and a duck o' diamonds he is! +No woman could wish for a better child than he be." + +"I ha' heerd on him in the stable, but I never see the brat afore. +Come, old girl, let bygones be bygones, and gie us a kiss, +and we'll go to bed." + +The cabman kept his cab in another yard, although he had his room +in this. He was often late in coming home, and was not one to take +notice of children, especially when he was tipsy, which was oftener +than not. Hence, if he had ever seen Diamond, he did not know him. +But his wife knew him well enough, as did every one else who lived +all day in the yard. She was a good-natured woman. It was she +who had got the fire lighted and the tea ready for them when Diamond +and his mother came home from Sandwich. And her husband was not +an ill-natured man either, and when in the morning he recalled not +only Diamond's visit, but how he himself had behaved to his wife, +he was very vexed with himself, and gladdened his poor wife's heart +by telling her how sorry he was. And for a whole week after, +he did not go near the public-house, hard as it was to avoid it, +seeing a certain rich brewer had built one, like a trap to catch +souls and bodies in, at almost every corner he had to pass on his +way home. Indeed, he was never quite so bad after that, though it +was some time before he began really to reform. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +DIAMOND'S FRIENDS + + +ONE day when old Diamond was standing with his nose in his bag +between Pall Mall and Cockspur Street, and his master was reading +the newspaper on the box of his cab, which was the last of a good +many in the row, little Diamond got down for a run, for his legs +were getting cramped with sitting. And first of all he strolled +with his hands in his pockets up to the crossing, where the girl +and her broom were to be found in all weathers. Just as he was +going to speak to her, a tall gentleman stepped upon the crossing. +He was pleased to find it so clean, for the streets were muddy, +and he had nice boots on; so he put his hand in his pocket, +and gave the girl a penny. But when she gave him a sweet smile +in return, and made him a pretty courtesy, he looked at her again, +and said: + +"Where do you live, my child?" + +"Paradise Row," she answered; "next door to the Adam and Eve-- +down the area." + +"Whom do you live with?" he asked. + +"My wicked old grannie," she replied. + +"You shouldn't call your grannie wicked," said the gentleman. + +"But she is," said the girl, looking up confidently in his face. +"If you don't believe me, you can come and take a look at her." + +The words sounded rude, but the girl's face looked so simple +that the gentleman saw she did not mean to be rude, and became +still more interested in her. + +"Still you shouldn't say so," he insisted. + +"Shouldn't I? Everybody calls her wicked old grannie--even them +that's as wicked as her. You should hear her swear. There's nothing +like it in the Row. Indeed, I assure you, sir, there's ne'er +a one of them can shut my grannie up once she begins and gets +right a-going. You must put her in a passion first, you know. +It's no good till you do that--she's so old now. How she do make +them laugh, to be sure!" + +Although she called her wicked, the child spoke so as plainly +to indicate pride in her grannie's pre-eminence in swearing. + +The gentleman looked very grave to hear her, for he was sorry +that such a nice little girl should be in such bad keeping. +But he did not know what to say next, and stood for a moment +with his eyes on the ground. When he lifted them, he saw the face +of Diamond looking up in his. + +"Please, sir," said Diamond, "her grannie's very cruel to her sometimes, +and shuts her out in the streets at night, if she happens to be late." + +"Is this your brother?" asked the gentleman of the girl. + +"No, sir." + +"How does he know your grandmother, then? He does not look +like one of her sort." + +"Oh no, sir! He's a good boy--quite." + +Here she tapped her forehead with her finger in a significant manner. + +"What do you mean by that?" asked the gentleman, while Diamond +looked on smiling. + +"The cabbies call him God's baby," she whispered. "He's not right +in the head, you know. A tile loose." + +Still Diamond, though he heard every word, and understood it too, +kept on smiling. What could it matter what people called him, +so long as he did nothing he ought not to do? And, besides, God's baby +was surely the best of names! + +"Well, my little man, and what can you do?" asked the gentleman, +turning towards him--just for the sake of saying something. + +"Drive a cab," said Diamond. + +"Good; and what else?" he continued; for, accepting what the girl +had said, he regarded the still sweetness of Diamond's face as a +sign of silliness, and wished to be kind to the poor little fellow. + +"Nurse a baby," said Diamond. + +"Well--and what else?" + +"Clean father's boots, and make him a bit of toast for his tea." + +"You're a useful little man," said the gentleman. "What else can +you do?" + +"Not much that I know of," said Diamond. "I can't curry a horse, +except somebody puts me on his back. So I don't count that." + +"Can you read?" + +"No. But mother can and father can, and they're going to teach me +some day soon." + +"Well, here's a penny for you." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And when you have learned to read, come to me, and I'll give you +sixpence and a book with fine pictures in it." + +"Please, sir, where am I to come?" asked Diamond, who was too much +a man of the world not to know that he must have the gentleman's +address before he could go and see him. + +"You're no such silly!" thought he, as he put his hand in his pocket, +and brought out a card. "There," he said, "your father will be able +to read that, and tell you where to go." + +"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," said Diamond, and put the card +in his pocket. + +The gentleman walked away, but turning round a few paces off, +saw Diamond give his penny to the girl, and, walking slower heard +him say: + +"I've got a father, and mother, and little brother, and you've got +nothing but a wicked old grannie. You may have my penny." + +The girl put it beside the other in her pocket, the only trustworthy +article of dress she wore. Her grandmother always took care +that she had a stout pocket. + +"Is she as cruel as ever?" asked Diamond. + +"Much the same. But I gets more coppers now than I used to, and I +can get summats to eat, and take browns enough home besides to keep +her from grumbling. It's a good thing she's so blind, though." + +"Why?" asked Diamond. + +"'Cause if she was as sharp in the eyes as she used to be, she would +find out I never eats her broken wittles, and then she'd know as I +must get something somewheres." + +"Doesn't she watch you, then?" + +"O' course she do. Don't she just! But I make believe and drop +it in my lap, and then hitch it into my pocket." + +"What would she do if she found you out?" + +"She never give me no more." + +"But you don't want it!" + +"Yes, I do want it." + +"What do you do with it, then?" + +"Give it to cripple Jim." + +"Who's cripple Jim?" + +"A boy in the Row. His mother broke his leg when he wur a kid, +so he's never come to much; but he's a good boy, is Jim, and I love +Jim dearly. I always keeps off a penny for Jim--leastways as often +as I can.--But there I must sweep again, for them busses makes no +end o' dirt." + +"Diamond! Diamond!" cried his father, who was afraid he might +get no good by talking to the girl; and Diamond obeyed, and got +up again upon the box. He told his father about the gentleman, +and what he had promised him if he would learn to read, and showed +him the gentleman's card. + +"Why, it's not many doors from the Mews!" said his father, giving him +back the card. "Take care of it, my boy, for it may lead to something. +God knows, in these hard times a man wants as many friends as he's +ever likely to get." + +"Haven't you got friends enough, father?" asked Diamond. + +"Well, I have no right to complain; but the more the better, +you know." + +"Just let me count," said Diamond. + +And he took his hands from his pockets, and spreading out the fingers +of his left hand, began to count, beginning at the thumb. + +"There's mother, first, and then baby, and then me. Next there's +old Diamond--and the cab--no, I won't count the cab, for it never +looks at you, and when Diamond's out of the shafts, it's nobody. +Then there's the man that drinks next door, and his wife, +and his baby." + +"They're no friends of mine," said his father. + +"Well, they're friends of mine," said Diamond. + +His father laughed. + +"Much good they'll do you!" he said. + +"How do you know they won't?" returned Diamond. + +"Well, go on," said his father. + +"Then there's Jack and Mr. Stonecrop, and, deary me! not to +have mentioned Mr. Coleman and Mrs. Coleman, and Miss Coleman, +and Mrs. Crump. And then there's the clergyman that spoke +to me in the garden that day the tree was blown down." + +"What's his name!" + +"I don't know his name." + +"Where does he live?" + +"I don't know." + +"How can you count him, then?" + +"He did talk to me, and very kindlike too." + +His father laughed again. + +"Why, child, you're just counting everybody you know. That don't +make 'em friends." + +"Don't it? I thought it did. Well, but they shall be my friends. +I shall make 'em." + +"How will you do that?" + +"They can't help themselves then, if they would. If I choose +to be their friend, you know, they can't prevent me. Then there's +that girl at the crossing." + +"A fine set of friends you do have, to be sure, Diamond!" + +"Surely she's a friend anyhow, father. If it hadn't been for her, +you would never have got Mrs. Coleman and Miss Coleman to carry home." + +His father was silent, for he saw that Diamond was right, and was +ashamed to find himself more ungrateful than he had thought. + +"Then there's the new gentleman," Diamond went on. + +"If he do as he say," interposed his father. + +"And why shouldn't he? I daresay sixpence ain't too much for him +to spare. But I don't quite understand, father: is nobody your +friend but the one that does something for you?" + +"No, I won't say that, my boy. You would have to leave out baby then." + +"Oh no, I shouldn't. Baby can laugh in your face, and crow in your ears, +and make you feel so happy. Call you that nothing, father?" + +The father's heart was fairly touched now. He made no answer +to this last appeal, and Diamond ended off with saying: + +"And there's the best of mine to come yet--and that's you, daddy-- +except it be mother, you know. You're my friend, daddy, ain't you? +And I'm your friend, ain't I?" + +"And God for us all," said his father, and then they were both +silent for that was very solemn. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +DIAMOND LEARNS TO READ + + +THE question of the tall gentleman as to whether Diamond could +read or not set his father thinking it was high time he could; +and as soon as old Diamond was suppered and bedded, he began the +task that very night. But it was not much of a task to Diamond, +for his father took for his lesson-book those very rhymes his mother +had picked up on the sea-shore; and as Diamond was not beginning +too soon, he learned very fast indeed. Within a month he was able +to spell out most of the verses for himself. + +But he had never come upon the poem he thought he had heard his +mother read from it that day. He had looked through and through +the book several times after he knew the letters and a few words, +fancying he could tell the look of it, but had always failed to find +one more like it than another. So he wisely gave up the search till +he could really read. Then he resolved to begin at the beginning, +and read them all straight through. This took him nearly a fortnight. +When he had almost reached the end, he came upon the following verses, +which took his fancy much, although they were certainly not very +like those he was in search of. + + +LITTLE BOY BLUE + + Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood. + Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey; + He said, "I would not go back if I could, + It's all so jolly and funny." + + He sang, "This wood is all my own, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + So here I'll sit, like a king on my throne, + All so jolly and funny." + + A little snake crept out of the tree, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + "Lie down at my feet, little snake," said he, + All so jolly and funny. + + A little bird sang in the tree overhead, + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + "Come and sing your song on my finger instead, + All so jolly and funny." + + The snake coiled up; and the bird flew down, + And sang him the song of Birdie Brown. + + Little Boy Blue found it tiresome to sit, + And he thought he had better walk on a bit. + + So up he got, his way to take, + And he said, "Come along, little bird and snake." + + And waves of snake o'er the damp leaves passed, + And the snake went first and Birdie Brown last; + + By Boy Blue's head, with flutter and dart, + Flew Birdie Brown with its song in its heart. + + He came where the apples grew red and sweet: + "Tree, drop me an apple down at my feet." + + He came where the cherries hung plump and red: + "Come to my mouth, sweet kisses," he said. + + And the boughs bow down, and the apples they dapple + The grass, too many for him to grapple. + + And the cheeriest cherries, with never a miss, + Fall to his mouth, each a full-grown kiss. + + He met a little brook singing a song. + He said, "Little brook, you are going wrong. + + "You must follow me, follow me, follow, I say + Do as I tell you, and come this way." + + And the song-singing, sing-songing forest brook + Leaped from its bed and after him took, + + Followed him, followed. And pale and wan, + The dead leaves rustled as the water ran. + + And every bird high up on the bough, + And every creature low down below, + + He called, and the creatures obeyed the call, + Took their legs and their wings and followed him all; + + Squirrels that carried their tails like a sack, + Each on his own little humpy brown back; + + Householder snails, and slugs all tails, + And butterflies, flutterbies, ships all sails; + + And weasels, and ousels, and mice, and larks, + And owls, and rere-mice, and harkydarks, + + All went running, and creeping, and flowing, + After the merry boy fluttering and going; + + The dappled fawns fawning, the fallow-deer following, + The swallows and flies, flying and swallowing; + + Cockchafers, henchafers, cockioli-birds, + Cockroaches, henroaches, cuckoos in herds. + + The spider forgot and followed him spinning, + And lost all his thread from end to beginning. + + The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist, + He never had made such undignified haste. + + The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying. + The mole in his moleskins left his barrowing burrowing. + + The bees went buzzing, so busy and beesy, + And the midges in columns so upright and easy. + + But Little Boy Blue was not content, + Calling for followers still as he went, + + Blowing his horn, and beating his drum, + And crying aloud, "Come all of you, come!" + + He said to the shadows, "Come after me;" + And the shadows began to flicker and flee, + + And they flew through the wood all flattering and fluttering, + Over the dead leaves flickering and muttering. + + And he said to the wind, "Come, follow; come, follow, + With whistle and pipe, and rustle and hollo." + + And the wind wound round at his desire, + As if he had been the gold cock on the spire. + + And the cock itself flew down from the church, + And left the farmers all in the lurch. + + They run and they fly, they creep and they come, + Everything, everything, all and some. + + The very trees they tugged at their roots, + Only their feet were too fast in their boots, + + After him leaning and straining and bending, + As on through their boles he kept walking and wending, + + Till out of the wood he burst on a lea, + Shouting and calling, "Come after me!" + + And then they rose up with a leafy hiss, + And stood as if nothing had been amiss. + + Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone, + And the creatures came round him every one. + + And he said to the clouds, "I want you there." + And down they sank through the thin blue air. + + And he said to the sunset far in the West, + "Come here; I want you; I know best." + + And the sunset came and stood up on the wold, + And burned and glowed in purple and gold. + + Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder: + "What's to be done with them all, I wonder." + + Then Little Boy Blue, he said, quite low, + "What to do with you all I am sure I don't know." + + Then the clouds clodded down till dismal it grew; + The snake sneaked close; round Birdie Brown flew; + + The brook sat up like a snake on its tail; + And the wind came up with a what-will-you wail; + + And all the creatures sat and stared; + The mole opened his very eyes and glared; + + And for rats and bats and the world and his wife, + Little Boy Blue was afraid of his life. + + Then Birdie Brown began to sing, + And what he sang was the very thing: + + "You have brought us all hither, Little Boy Blue, + Pray what do you want us all to do?" + + "Go away! go away!" said Little Boy Blue; + "I'm sure I don't want you -- get away -- do." + + "No, no; no, no; no, yes, and no, no," + Sang Birdie Brown, "it mustn't be so. + + "We cannot for nothing come here, and away. + Give us some work, or else we stay." + + "Oh dear! and oh dear!" with sob and with sigh, + Said Little Boy Blue, and began to cry. + + But before he got far, he thought of a thing; + And up he stood, and spoke like a king. + + "Why do you hustle and jostle and bother? + Off with you all! Take me back to my mother." + + The sunset stood at the gates of the west. + "Follow me, follow me" came from Birdie Brown's breast. + + "I am going that way as fast as I can," + Said the brook, as it sank and turned and ran. + + Back to the woods fled the shadows like ghosts: + "If we stay, we shall all be missed from our posts." + + Said the wind with a voice that had changed its cheer, + "I was just going there, when you brought me here." + + "That's where I live," said the sack-backed squirrel, + And he turned his sack with a swing and a swirl. + + Said the cock of the spire, "His father's churchwarden." + Said the brook running faster, "I run through his garden." + + Said the mole, "Two hundred worms -- there I caught 'em + Last year, and I'm going again next autumn." + + Said they all, "If that's where you want us to steer for, + What in earth or in water did you bring us here for?" + + "Never you mind," said Little Boy Blue; + "That's what I tell you. If that you won't do, + + "I'll get up at once, and go home without you. + I think I will; I begin to doubt you." + + He rose; and up rose the snake on its tail, + And hissed three times, half a hiss, half a wail. + + Little Boy Blue he tried to go past him; + But wherever he turned, sat the snake and faced him. + + "If you don't get out of my way," he said, + "I tell you, snake, I will break your head." + + The snake he neither would go nor come; + So he hit him hard with the stick of his drum. + + The snake fell down as if he were dead, + And Little Boy Blue set his foot on his head. + + And all the creatures they marched before him, + And marshalled him home with a high cockolorum. + + And Birdie Brown sang Twirrrr twitter twirrrr twee -- + Apples and cherries, roses and honey; + Little Boy Blue has listened to me -- + All so jolly and funny. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SAL'S NANNY + + +DIAMOND managed with many blunders to read this rhyme to his mother. + +"Isn't it nice, mother?" he said. + +"Yes, it's pretty," she answered. + +"I think it means something," returned Diamond. + +"I'm sure I don't know what," she said. + +"I wonder if it's the same boy--yes, it must be the same-- +Little Boy Blue, you know. Let me see--how does that rhyme go? + +Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn-- + +Yes, of course it is--for this one went `blowing his horn and beating +his drum.' He had a drum too. + + Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn; + The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn, + +He had to keep them out, you know. But he wasn't minding his work. +It goes-- + + Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? + He's under the haystack, fast asleep. + +There, you see, mother! And then, let me see-- + + Who'll go and wake him? No, not I; + For if I do, he'll be sure to cry. + +So I suppose nobody did wake him. He was a rather cross little boy, +I daresay, when woke up. And when he did wake of himself, and saw +the mischief the cow had done to the corn, instead of running +home to his mother, he ran away into the wood and lost himself. +Don't you think that's very likely, mother?" + +"I shouldn't wonder," she answered. + +"So you see he was naughty; for even when he lost himself he +did not want to go home. Any of the creatures would have shown +him the way if he had asked it--all but the snake. He followed +the snake, you know, and he took him farther away. I suppose it +was a young one of the same serpent that tempted Adam and Eve. +Father was telling us about it last Sunday, you remember." + +"Bless the child!" said his mother to herself; and then added aloud, +finding that Diamond did not go on, "Well, what next?" + +"I don't know, mother. I'm sure there's a great deal more, +but what it is I can't say. I only know that he killed the snake. +I suppose that's what he had a drumstick for. He couldn't do it +with his horn." + +"But surely you're not such a silly as to take it all for true, Diamond?" + +"I think it must be. It looks true. That killing of the snake +looks true. It's what I've got to do so often." + +His mother looked uneasy. Diamond smiled full in her face, +and added-- + +"When baby cries and won't be happy, and when father and you talk +about your troubles, I mean." + +This did little to reassure his mother; and lest my reader should +have his qualms about it too, I venture to remind him once more +that Diamond had been to the back of the north wind. + +Finding she made no reply, Diamond went on-- + +"In a week or so, I shall be able to go to the tall gentleman +and tell him I can read. And I'll ask him if he can help +me to understand the rhyme." + +But before the week was out, he had another reason for going +to Mr. Raymond. + +For three days, on each of which, at one time or other, Diamond's +father was on the same stand near the National Gallery, the girl +was not at her crossing, and Diamond got quite anxious about her, +fearing she must be ill. On the fourth day, not seeing her yet, +he said to his father, who had that moment shut the door of his cab +upon a fare-- + +"Father, I want to go and look after the girl, She can't be well." + +"All right," said his father. "Only take care of yourself, Diamond." + +So saying he climbed on his box and drove off. + +He had great confidence in his boy, you see, and would trust +him anywhere. But if he had known the kind of place in which +the girl lived, he would perhaps have thought twice before he +allowed him to go alone. Diamond, who did know something of it, +had not, however, any fear. From talking to the girl he had +a good notion of where about it was, and he remembered the +address well enough; so by asking his way some twenty times, +mostly of policemen, he came at length pretty near the place. +The last policeman he questioned looked down upon him from the summit +of six feet two inches, and replied with another question, but kindly: + +"What do you want there, my small kid? It ain't where you was bred, +I guess." + +"No sir" answered Diamond. "I live in Bloomsbury." + +"That's a long way off," said the policeman. + +"Yes, it's a good distance," answered Diamond; "but I find my way +about pretty well. Policemen are always kind to me." + +"But what on earth do you want here?" + +Diamond told him plainly what he was about, and of course the man +believed him, for nobody ever disbelieved Diamond. People might +think he was mistaken, but they never thought he was telling a story. + +"It's an ugly place," said the policeman. + +"Is it far off?" asked Diamond. + +"No. It's next door almost. But it's not safe." + +"Nobody hurts me," said Diamond. + +"I must go with you, I suppose." + +"Oh, no! please not," said Diamond. "They might think I was going +to meddle with them, and I ain't, you know." + +"Well, do as you please," said the man, and gave him full directions. + +Diamond set off, never suspecting that the policeman, who was a +kind-hearted man, with children of his own, was following him close, +and watching him round every corner. As he went on, all at once +he thought he remembered the place, and whether it really was so, +or only that he had laid up the policeman's instructions well in +his mind, he went straight for the cellar of old Sal. + +"He's a sharp little kid, anyhow, for as simple as he looks," +said the man to himself. "Not a wrong turn does he take! +But old Sal's a rum un for such a child to pay a morning visit to. +She's worse when she's sober than when she's half drunk. I've seen +her when she'd have torn him in pieces." + +Happily then for Diamond, old Sal had gone out to get some gin. +When he came to her door at the bottom of the area-stair and knocked, +he received no answer. He laid his ear to the door, and thought he heard +a moaning within. So he tried the door, and found it was not locked! +It was a dreary place indeed,--and very dark, for the window was below +the level of the street, and covered with mud, while over the grating +which kept people from falling into the area, stood a chest of drawers, +placed there by a dealer in second-hand furniture, which shut out +almost all the light. And the smell in the place was dreadful. +Diamond stood still for a while, for he could see next to nothing, +but he heard the moaning plainly enough now, When he got used +to the darkness, he discovered his friend lying with closed eyes +and a white suffering face on a heap of little better than rags in +a corner of the den. He went up to her and spoke; but she made him +no answer. Indeed, she was not in the least aware of his presence, +and Diamond saw that he could do nothing for her without help. +So taking a lump of barley-sugar from his pocket, which he had bought +for her as he came along, and laying it beside her, he left the place, +having already made up his mind to go and see the tall gentleman, +Mr. Raymond, and ask him to do something for Sal's Nanny, as the girl +was called. + +By the time he got up the area-steps, three or four women who had +seen him go down were standing together at the top waiting for him. +They wanted his clothes for their children; but they did not follow +him down lest Sal should find them there. The moment he appeared, +they laid their hands on him, and all began talking at once, +for each wanted to get some advantage over her neighbours. +He told them quite quietly, for he was not frightened, that he +had come to see what was the matter with Nanny. + +"What do you know about Nanny?" said one of them fiercely. "Wait till +old Sal comes home, and you'll catch it, for going prying into her +house when she's out. If you don't give me your jacket directly, +I'll go and fetch her." + +"I can't give you my jacket," said Diamond. "It belongs to my +father and mother, you know. It's not mine to give. Is it now? +You would not think it right to give away what wasn't yours-- +would you now?" + +"Give it away! No, that I wouldn't; I'd keep it," she said, +with a rough laugh. "But if the jacket ain't yours, what right have +you to keep it? Here, Cherry, make haste. It'll be one go apiece." + +They all began to tug at the jacket, while Diamond stooped and kept +his arms bent to resist them. Before they had done him or the jacket +any harm, however, suddenly they all scampered away; and Diamond, +looking in the opposite direction, saw the tall policeman coming +towards him. + +"You had better have let me come with you, little man," he said, +looking down in Diamond's face, which was flushed with his resistance. + +"You came just in the right time, thank you," returned Diamond. +"They've done me no harm." + +"They would have if I hadn't been at hand, though." + +"Yes; but you were at hand, you know, so they couldn't." + +Perhaps the answer was deeper in purport than either Diamond +or the policeman knew. They walked away together, Diamond telling +his new friend how ill poor Nanny was, and that he was going to let +the tall gentleman know. The policeman put him in the nearest way +for Bloomsbury, and stepping out in good earnest, Diamond reached +Mr. Raymond's door in less than an hour. When he asked if he +was at home, the servant, in return, asked what he wanted. + +"I want to tell him something." + +"But I can't go and trouble him with such a message as that." + +"He told me to come to him--that is, when I could read--and I can." + +"How am I to know that?" + +Diamond stared with astonishment for one moment, then answered: + +"Why, I've just told you. That's how you know it." + +But this man was made of coarser grain than the policeman, +and, instead of seeing that Diamond could not tell a lie, +he put his answer down as impudence, and saying, "Do you +think I'm going to take your word for it?" shut the door in his face. + +Diamond turned and sat down on the doorstep, thinking with himself +that the tall gentleman must either come in or come out, and he +was therefore in the best possible position for finding him. +He had not waited long before the door opened again; but when he +looked round, it was only the servant once more. + +"Get, away" he said. "What are you doing on the doorstep?" + +"Waiting for Mr. Raymond," answered Diamond, getting up. + +"He's not at home." + +"Then I'll wait till he comes," returned Diamond, sitting down again +with a smile. + +What the man would have done next I do not know, but a step +sounded from the hall, and when Diamond looked round yet again, +there was the tall gentleman. + +"Who's this, John?" he asked. + +"I don't know, sir. An imperent little boy as will sit on the doorstep." + +"Please sir" said Diamond, "he told me you weren't at home, and I +sat down to wait for you." + +"Eh, what!" said Mr. Raymond. "John! John! This won't do. +Is it a habit of yours to turn away my visitors? There'll be some +one else to turn away, I'm afraid, if I find any more of this kind +of thing. Come in, my little man. I suppose you've come to claim +your sixpence?" + +"No, sir, not that." + +"What! can't you read yet?" + +"Yes, I can now, a little. But I'll come for that next time. +I came to tell you about Sal's Nanny." + +"Who's Sal's Nanny?" + +"The girl at the crossing you talked to the same day." + +"Oh, yes; I remember. What's the matter? Has she got run over?" + +Then Diamond told him all. + +Now Mr. Raymond was one of the kindest men in London. He sent at +once to have the horse put to the brougham, took Diamond with him, +and drove to the Children's Hospital. There he was well known +to everybody, for he was not only a large subscriber, but he used +to go and tell the children stories of an afternoon. One of the +doctors promised to go and find Nanny, and do what could be done-- +have her brought to the hospital, if possible. + +That same night they sent a litter for her, and as she could +be of no use to old Sal until she was better, she did not object +to having her removed. So she was soon lying in the fever ward-- +for the first time in her life in a nice clean bed. But she knew +nothing of the whole affair. She was too ill to know anything. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MR. RAYMOND'S RIDDLE + + +MR. RAYMOND took Diamond home with him, stopping at the Mews +to tell his mother that he would send him back soon. Diamond ran +in with the message himself, and when he reappeared he had in his +hand the torn and crumpled book which North Wind had given him. + +"Ah! I see," said Mr. Raymond: "you are going to claim your +sixpence now." + +"I wasn't thinking of that so much as of another thing," said Diamond. +"There's a rhyme in this book I can't quite understand. I want you +to tell me what it means, if you please." + +"I will if I can," answered Mr. Raymond. "You shall read it to me +when we get home, and then I shall see." + +Still with a good many blunders, Diamond did read it after a fashion. +Mr. Raymond took the little book and read it over again. + +Now Mr. Raymond was a poet himself, and so, although he had never +been at the back of the north wind, he was able to understand the +poem pretty well. But before saying anything about it, he read it +over aloud, and Diamond thought he understood it much better already. + +"I'll tell you what I think it means," he then said. "It means +that people may have their way for a while, if they like, but it +will get them into such troubles they'll wish they hadn't had it." + +"I know, I know!" said Diamond. "Like the poor cabman next door. +He drinks too much." + +"Just so," returned Mr. Raymond. "But when people want to do right, +things about them will try to help them. Only they must kill +the snake, you know." + +"I was sure the snake had something to do with it," +cried Diamond triumphantly. + +A good deal more talk followed, and Mr. Raymond gave Diamond +his sixpence. + +"What will you do with it?" he asked. + +"Take it home to my mother," he answered. "She has a teapot-- +such a black one!--with a broken spout, and she keeps all her money +in it. It ain't much; but she saves it up to buy shoes for me. +And there's baby coming on famously, and he'll want shoes soon. +And every sixpence is something--ain't it, sir?" + +"To be sure, my man. I hope you'll always make as good a use +of your money." + +"I hope so, sir," said Diamond. + +"And here's a book for you, full of pictures and stories and poems. +I wrote it myself, chiefly for the children of the hospital where +I hope Nanny is going. I don't mean I printed it, you know. +I made it," added Mr. Raymond, wishing Diamond to understand that he +was the author of the book. + +"I know what you mean. I make songs myself. They're awfully silly, +but they please baby, and that's all they're meant for." + +"Couldn't you let me hear one of them now?" said Mr. Raymond. + +"No, sir, I couldn't. I forget them as soon as I've done with them. +Besides, I couldn't make a line without baby on my knee. We make +them together, you know. They're just as much baby's as mine. +It's he that pulls them out of me." + +"I suspect the child's a genius," said the poet to himself, +"and that's what makes people think him silly." + +Now if any of my child readers want to know what a genius is-- +shall I try to tell them, or shall I not? I will give them one +very short answer: it means one who understands things without +any other body telling him what they mean. God makes a few such +now and then to teach the rest of us. + +"Do you like riddles?" asked Mr. Raymond, turning over the leaves +of his own book. + +"I don't know what a riddle is," said Diamond. + +"It's something that means something else, and you've got to find +out what the something else is." + +Mr. Raymond liked the old-fashioned riddle best, and had written a few-- +one of which he now read. + + I have only one foot, but thousands of toes; + My one foot stands, but never goes. + I have many arms, and they're mighty all; + And hundreds of fingers, large and small. + From the ends of my fingers my beauty grows. + I breathe with my hair, and I drink with my toes. + I grow bigger and bigger about the waist, + And yet I am always very tight laced. + None e'er saw me eat -- I've no mouth to bite; + Yet I eat all day in the full sunlight. + In the summer with song I shave and quiver, + But in winter I fast and groan and shiver. + + +"Do you know what that means, Diamond?" he asked, when he had finished. + +"No, indeed, I don't," answered Diamond. + +"Then you can read it for yourself, and think over it, and see +if you can find out," said Mr. Raymond, giving him the book. +"And now you had better go home to your mother. When you've found +the riddle, you can come again." + +If Diamond had had to find out the riddle in order to see +Mr. Raymond again, I doubt if he would ever have seen him. + +"Oh then," I think I hear some little reader say, "he could not have +been a genius, for a genius finds out things without being told." + +I answer, "Genius finds out truths, not tricks." And if you do +not understand that, I am afraid you must be content to wait till +you grow older and know more. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE EARLY BIRD + + +WHEN Diamond got home he found his father at home already, sitting by +the fire and looking rather miserable, for his head ached and he +felt sick. He had been doing night work of late, and it had not agreed +with him, so he had given it up, but not in time, for he had taken +some kind of fever. The next day he was forced to keep his bed, +and his wife nursed him, and Diamond attended to the baby. If he +had not been ill, it would have been delightful to have him at home; +and the first day Diamond sang more songs than ever to the baby, +and his father listened with some pleasure. But the next he could +not bear even Diamond's sweet voice, and was very ill indeed; +so Diamond took the baby into his own room, and had no end of quiet +games with him there. If he did pull all his bedding on the floor, +it did not matter, for he kept baby very quiet, and made the bed +himself again, and slept in it with baby all the next night, and many +nights after. + +But long before his father got well, his mother's savings were +all but gone. She did not say a word about it in the hearing +of her husband, lest she should distress him; and one night, +when she could not help crying, she came into Diamond's room that +his father might not hear her. She thought Diamond was asleep, +but he was not. When he heard her sobbing, he was frightened, +and said-- + +"Is father worse, mother?" + +"No, Diamond," she answered, as well as she could; "he's a good +bit better." + +"Then what are you crying for, mother?" + +"Because my money is almost all gone," she replied. + +"O mammy, you make me think of a little poem baby and I learned +out of North Wind's book to-day. Don't you remember how I bothered +you about some of the words?" + +"Yes, child," said his mother heedlessly, thinking only of what she +should do after to-morrow. + +Diamond began and repeated the poem, for he had a wonderful memory. + + A little bird sat on the edge of her nest; + Her yellow-beaks slept as sound as tops; + That day she had done her very best, + And had filled every one of their little crops. + She had filled her own just over-full, + And hence she was feeling a little dull. + + "Oh, dear!" she sighed, as she sat with her head + Sunk in her chest, and no neck at all, + While her crop stuck out like a feather bed + Turned inside out, and rather small; + "What shall I do if things don't reform? + I don't know where there's a single worm. + + "I've had twenty to-day, and the children five each, + Besides a few flies, and some very fat spiders: + No one will say I don't do as I preach -- + I'm one of the best of bird-providers; + But where's the use? We want a storm -- + I don't know where there's a single worm." + + "There's five in my crop," said a wee, wee bird, + Which woke at the voice of his mother's pain; + "I know where there's five." And with the word + He tucked in his head, and went off again. + "The folly of childhood," sighed his mother, + "Has always been my especial bother." + + The yellow-beaks they slept on and on -- + They never had heard of the bogy To-morrow; + But the mother sat outside, making her moan -- + She'll soon have to beg, or steal, or borrow. + For she never can tell the night before, + Where she shall find one red worm more. + + The fact, as I say, was, she'd had too many; + She couldn't sleep, and she called it virtue, + Motherly foresight, affection, any + Name you may call it that will not hurt you, + So it was late ere she tucked her head in, + And she slept so late it was almost a sin. + + But the little fellow who knew of five + Nor troubled his head about any more, + Woke very early, felt quite alive, + And wanted a sixth to add to his store: + He pushed his mother, the greedy elf, + Then thought he had better try for himself. + + When his mother awoke and had rubbed her eyes, + Feeling less like a bird, and more like a mole, + She saw him -- fancy with what surprise -- + Dragging a huge worm out of a hole! + 'Twas of this same hero the proverb took form: + 'Tis the early bird that catches the worm. + + +"There, mother!" said Diamond, as he finished; "ain't it funny?" + +"I wish you were like that little bird, Diamond, and could catch +worms for yourself," said his mother, as she rose to go and look +after her husband. + +Diamond lay awake for a few minutes, thinking what he could do +to catch worms. It was very little trouble to make up his mind, +however, and still less to go to sleep after it. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ANOTHER EARLY BIRD + + +HE GOT up in the morning as soon as he heard the men moving +in the yard. He tucked in his little brother so that he could +not tumble out of bed, and then went out, leaving the door open, +so that if he should cry his mother might hear him at once. +When he got into the yard he found the stable-door just opened. + +"I'm the early bird, I think," he said to himself. "I hope I shall +catch the worm." + +He would not ask any one to help him, fearing his project might meet +with disapproval and opposition. With great difficulty, but with the +help of a broken chair he brought down from his bedroom, he managed +to put the harness on Diamond. If the old horse had had the least +objection to the proceeding, of course he could not have done it; +but even when it came to the bridle, he opened his mouth for the bit, +just as if he had been taking the apple which Diamond sometimes gave him. +He fastened the cheek-strap very carefully, just in the usual hole, +for fear of choking his friend, or else letting the bit get amongst +his teeth. It was a job to get the saddle on; but with the chair +he managed it. If old Diamond had had an education in physics +to equal that of the camel, he would have knelt down to let him put +it on his back, but that was more than could be expected of him, +and then Diamond had to creep quite under him to get hold of +the girth. The collar was almost the worst part of the business; +but there Diamond could help Diamond. He held his head very low +till his little master had got it over and turned it round, +and then he lifted his head, and shook it on to his shoulders. +The yoke was rather difficult; but when he had laid the traces +over the horse's neck, the weight was not too much for him. +He got him right at last, and led him out of the stable. + +By this time there were several of the men watching him, but they +would not interfere, they were so anxious to see how he would get +over the various difficulties. They followed him as far as the +stable-door, and there stood watching him again as he put the horse +between the shafts, got them up one after the other into the loops, +fastened the traces, the belly-band, the breeching, and the reins. + +Then he got his whip. The moment he mounted the box, the men +broke into a hearty cheer of delight at his success. But they +would not let him go without a general inspection of the harness; +and although they found it right, for not a buckle had to be shifted, +they never allowed him to do it for himself again all the time his +father was ill. + +The cheer brought his mother to the window, and there she saw her +little boy setting out alone with the cab in the gray of morning. +She tugged at the window, but it was stiff; and before she could +open it, Diamond, who was in a great hurry, was out of the mews, +and almost out of the street. She called "Diamond! Diamond!" but there +was no answer except from Jack. + +"Never fear for him, ma'am," said Jack. "It 'ud be only a devil +as would hurt him, and there ain't so many o' them as some folk +'ud have you believe. A boy o' Diamond's size as can 'arness +a 'oss t'other Diamond's size, and put him to, right as a trivet-- +if he do upset the keb--'ll fall on his feet, ma'am." + +"But he won't upset the cab, will he, Jack?" + +"Not he, ma'am. Leastways he won't go for to do it." + +"I know as much as that myself. What do you mean?" + +"I mean he's a little likely to do it as the oldest man in the stable. +How's the gov'nor to-day, ma'am?" + +"A good deal better, thank you," she answered, closing the window +in some fear lest her husband should have been made anxious by +the news of Diamond's expedition. He knew pretty well, however, +what his boy was capable of, and although not quite easy was less +anxious than his mother. But as the evening drew on, the anxiety +of both of them increased, and every sound of wheels made his +father raise himself in his bed, and his mother peep out of the window. + +Diamond had resolved to go straight to the cab-stand where he was +best known, and never to crawl for fear of getting annoyed by idlers. +Before he got across Oxford Street, however, he was hailed by a man +who wanted to catch a train, and was in too great a hurry to think +about the driver. Having carried him to King's Cross in good time, +and got a good fare in return, he set off again in great spirits, +and reached the stand in safety. He was the first there after all. + +As the men arrived they all greeted him kindly, and inquired after +his father. + +"Ain't you afraid of the old 'oss running away with you?" asked one. + +"No, he wouldn't run away with me," answered Diamond. "He knows +I'm getting the shillings for father. Or if he did he would only +run home." + +"Well, you're a plucky one, for all your girl's looks!" said the man; +"and I wish ye luck." + +"Thank you, sir," said Diamond. "I'll do what I can. I came +to the old place, you see, because I knew you would let me have +my turn here." + +In the course of the day one man did try to cut him out, but he +was a stranger; and the shout the rest of them raised let him see +it would not do, and made him so far ashamed besides, that he went +away crawling. + +Once, in a block, a policeman came up to him, and asked him for +his number. Diamond showed him his father's badge, saying with a smile: + +"Father's ill at home, and so I came out with the cab. There's no +fear of me. I can drive. Besides, the old horse could go alone." + +"Just as well, I daresay. You're a pair of 'em. But you are +a rum 'un for a cabby--ain't you now?" said the policeman. +"I don't know as I ought to let you go." + +"I ain't done nothing," said Diamond. "It's not my fault I'm +no bigger. I'm big enough for my age." + +"That's where it is," said the man. "You ain't fit." + +"How do you know that?" asked Diamond, with his usual smile, +and turning his head like a little bird. + +"Why, how are you to get out of this ruck now, when it begins +to move?" + +"Just you get up on the box," said Diamond, "and I'll show you. +There, that van's a-moving now. Jump up." + +The policeman did as Diamond told him, and was soon satisfied +that the little fellow could drive. + +"Well," he said, as he got down again, "I don't know as I should +be right to interfere. Good luck to you, my little man!" + +"Thank you, sir," said Diamond, and drove away. + +In a few minutes a gentleman hailed him. + +"Are you the driver of this cab?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir" said Diamond, showing his badge, of which, he was proud. + +"You're the youngest cabman I ever saw. How am I to know you won't +break all my bones?" + +"I would rather break all my own," said Diamond. "But if you're afraid, +never mind me; I shall soon get another fare." + +"I'll risk it," said the gentleman; and, opening the door himself, +he jumped in. + +He was going a good distance, and soon found that Diamond got him +over the ground well. Now when Diamond had only to go straight ahead, +and had not to mind so much what he was about, his thoughts always +turned to the riddle Mr. Raymond had set him; and this gentleman +looked so clever that he fancied he must be able to read it for him. +He had given up all hope of finding it out for himself, and he could +not plague his father about it when he was ill. He had thought +of the answer himself, but fancied it could not be the right one, +for to see how it all fitted required some knowledge of physiology. +So, when he reached the end of his journey, he got down very quickly, +and with his head just looking in at the window, said, as the gentleman +gathered his gloves and newspapers: + +"Please, sir, can you tell me the meaning of a riddle?" + +"You must tell me the riddle first," answered the gentleman, amused. + +Diamond repeated the riddle. + +"Oh! that's easy enough," he returned. "It's a tree." + +"Well, it ain't got no mouth, sure enough; but how then does it +eat all day long?" + +"It sucks in its food through the tiniest holes in its leaves," +he answered. "Its breath is its food. And it can't do it except +in the daylight." + +"Thank you, sir, thank you," returned Diamond. "I'm sorry I +couldn't find it out myself; Mr. Raymond would have been better +pleased with me." + +"But you needn't tell him any one told you." + +Diamond gave him a stare which came from the very back of the +north wind, where that kind of thing is unknown. + +"That would be cheating," he said at last. + +"Ain't you a cabby, then?" + +"Cabbies don't cheat." + +"Don't they? I am of a different opinion." + +"I'm sure my father don't." + +"What's your fare, young innocent?" + +"Well, I think the distance is a good deal over three miles-- +that's two shillings. Only father says sixpence a mile is too little, +though we can't ask for more." + +"You're a deep one. But I think you're wrong. It's over four miles-- +not much, but it is." + +"Then that's half-a-crown," said Diamond. + +"Well, here's three shillings. Will that do?" + +"Thank you kindly, sir. I'll tell my father how good you were to me-- +first to tell me my riddle, then to put me right about the distance, +and then to give me sixpence over. It'll help father to get well again, +it will." + +"I hope it may, my man. I shouldn't wonder if you're as good +as you look, after all." + +As Diamond returned, he drew up at a stand he had never been on before: +it was time to give Diamond his bag of chopped beans and oats. +The men got about him, and began to chaff him. He took it all +good-humouredly, until one of them, who was an ill-conditioned fellow, +began to tease old Diamond by poking him roughly in the ribs, +and making general game of him. That he could not bear, and the +tears came in his eyes. He undid the nose-bag, put it in the boot, +and was just going to mount and drive away, when the fellow interfered, +and would not let him get up. Diamond endeavoured to persuade him, +and was very civil, but he would have his fun out of him, +as he said. In a few minutes a group of idle boys had assembled, +and Diamond found himself in a very uncomfortable position. +Another cab drew up at the stand, and the driver got off and approached +the assemblage. + +"What's up here?" he asked, and Diamond knew the voice. It was +that of the drunken cabman. + +"Do you see this young oyster? He pretends to drive a cab," +said his enemy. + +"Yes, I do see him. And I sees you too. You'd better leave him alone. +He ain't no oyster. He's a angel come down on his own business. +You be off, or I'll be nearer you than quite agreeable." + +The drunken cabman was a tall, stout man, who did not look one +to take liberties with. + +"Oh! if he's a friend of yours," said the other, drawing back. + +Diamond got out the nose-bag again. Old Diamond should have his +feed out now. + +"Yes, he is a friend o' mine. One o' the best I ever had. +It's a pity he ain't a friend o' yourn. You'd be the better for it, +but it ain't no fault of hisn." + +When Diamond went home at night, he carried with him one pound +one shilling and sixpence, besides a few coppers extra, which had +followed some of the fares. + +His mother had got very anxious indeed--so much so that she +was almost afraid, when she did hear the sound of his cab, to go +and look, lest she should be yet again disappointed, and should +break down before her husband. But there was the old horse, +and there was the cab all right, and there was Diamond in the box, +his pale face looking triumphant as a full moon in the twilight. + +When he drew up at the stable-door, Jack came out, and after a good +many friendly questions and congratulations, said: + +"You go in to your mother, Diamond. I'll put up the old 'oss. +I'll take care on him. He do deserve some small attention, +he do." + +"Thank you, Jack," said Diamond, and bounded into the house, +and into the arms of his mother, who was waiting him at the top +of the stair. + +The poor, anxious woman led him into his own room, sat down on his bed, +took him on her lap as if he had been a baby, and cried. + +"How's father?" asked Diamond, almost afraid to ask. + +"Better, my child," she answered, "but uneasy about you, my dear." + +"Didn't you tell him I was the early bird gone out to catch the worm?" + +"That was what put it in your head, was it, you monkey?" +said his mother, beginning to get better. + +"That or something else," answered Diamond, so very quietly +that his mother held his head back and stared in his face. + +"Well! of all the children!" she said, and said no more. + +"And here's my worm," resumed Diamond. + +But to see her face as he poured the shillings and sixpences +and pence into her lap! She burst out crying a second time, +and ran with the money to her husband. + +And how pleased he was! It did him no end of good. But while he +was counting the coins, Diamond turned to baby, who was lying awake +in his cradle, sucking his precious thumb, and took him up, saying: + +"Baby, baby! I haven't seen you for a whole year." + +And then he began to sing to him as usual. And what he sang was this, +for he was too happy either to make a song of his own or to sing sense. +It was one out of Mr. Raymond's book. + + +THE TRUE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE + + Hey, diddle, diddle! + The cat and the fiddle! + He played such a merry tune, + That the cow went mad + With the pleasure she had, + And jumped right over the moon. + But then, don't you see? + Before that could be, + The moon had come down and listened. + The little dog hearkened, + So loud that he barkened, + "There's nothing like it, there isn't." + + Hey, diddle, diddle! + Went the cat and the fiddle, + Hey diddle, diddle, dee, dee! + The dog laughed at the sport + Till his cough cut him short, + It was hey diddle, diddle, oh me! + And back came the cow + With a merry, merry low, + For she'd humbled the man in the moon. + The dish got excited, + The spoon was delighted, + And the dish waltzed away with the spoon. + + But the man in the moon, + Coming back too soon + From the famous town of Norwich, + Caught up the dish, + Said, "It's just what I wish + To hold my cold plum-porridge!" + Gave the cow a rat-tat, + Flung water on the cat, + And sent him away like a rocket. + Said, "O Moon there you are!" + Got into her car, + And went off with the spoon in his pocket + + Hey ho! diddle, diddle! + The wet cat and wet fiddle, + They made such a caterwauling, + That the cow in a fright + Stood bolt upright + Bellowing now, and bawling; + And the dog on his tail, + Stretched his neck with a wail. + But "Ho! ho!" said the man in the moon -- + "No more in the South + Shall I burn my mouth, + For I've found a dish and a spoon." + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +DIAMOND'S DREAM + + +"THERE, baby!" said Diamond; "I'm so happy that I can only +sing nonsense. Oh, father, think if you had been a poor man, +and hadn't had a cab and old Diamond! What should I have done?" + +"I don't know indeed what you could have done," said his father +from the bed. + +"We should have all starved, my precious Diamond," said his mother, +whose pride in her boy was even greater than her joy in the shillings. +Both of them together made her heart ache, for pleasure can do that +as well as pain. + +"Oh no! we shouldn't," said Diamond. "I could have taken Nanny's +crossing till she came back; and then the money, instead of going +for Old Sal's gin, would have gone for father's beef-tea. I wonder +what Nanny will do when she gets well again. Somebody else +will be sure to have taken the crossing by that time. I wonder +if she will fight for it, and whether I shall have to help her. +I won't bother my head about that. Time enough yet! Hey diddle! +hey diddle! hey diddle diddle! I wonder whether Mr. Raymond would +take me to see Nanny. Hey diddle! hey diddle! hey diddle diddle! +The baby and fiddle! O, mother, I'm such a silly! But I can't help it. +I wish I could think of something else, but there's nothing will +come into my head but hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle! +I wonder what the angels do--when they're extra happy, you know-- +when they've been driving cabs all day and taking home the money to +their mothers. Do you think they ever sing nonsense, mother?" + +"I daresay they've got their own sort of it," answered his mother, +"else they wouldn't be like other people." She was thinking more +of her twenty-one shillings and sixpence, and of the nice dinner +she would get for her sick husband next day, than of the angels +and their nonsense, when she said it. But Diamond found her answer +all right. + +"Yes, to be sure," he replied. "They wouldn't be like other people +if they hadn't their nonsense sometimes. But it must be very +pretty nonsense, and not like that silly hey diddle diddle! the cat +and the fiddle! I wish I could get it out of my head. I wonder +what the angels' nonsense is like. Nonsense is a very good thing, +ain't it, mother?--a little of it now and then; more of it for baby, +and not so much for grown people like cabmen and their mothers? +It's like the pepper and salt that goes in the soup--that's it-- +isn't it, mother? There's baby fast asleep! Oh, what a nonsense baby +it is--to sleep so much! Shall I put him down, mother?" + +Diamond chattered away. What rose in his happy little heart ran +out of his mouth, and did his father and mother good. When he went +to bed, which he did early, being more tired, as you may suppose, +than usual, he was still thinking what the nonsense could be like +which the angels sang when they were too happy to sing sense. +But before coming to any conclusion he fell fast asleep. And no wonder, +for it must be acknowledged a difficult question. + +That night he had a very curious dream which I think my readers would +like to have told them. They would, at least, if they are as fond +of nice dreams as I am, and don't have enough of them of their own. + +He dreamed that he was running about in the twilight in the old garden. +He thought he was waiting for North Wind, but she did not come. +So he would run down to the back gate, and see if she were there. +He ran and ran. It was a good long garden out of his dream, +but in his dream it had grown so long and spread out so wide that the +gate he wanted was nowhere. He ran and ran, but instead of coming +to the gate found himself in a beautiful country, not like any +country he had ever been in before. There were no trees of any size; +nothing bigger in fact than hawthorns, which were full of may-blossom. +The place in which they grew was wild and dry, mostly covered +with grass, but having patches of heath. It extended on every side +as far as he could see. But although it was so wild, yet wherever +in an ordinary heath you might have expected furze bushes, or holly, +or broom, there grew roses--wild and rare--all kinds. On every side, +far and near, roses were glowing. There too was the gum-cistus, +whose flowers fall every night and come again the next morning, +lilacs and syringas and laburnums, and many shrubs besides, +of which he did not know the names; but the roses were everywhere. +He wandered on and on, wondering when it would come to an end. +It was of no use going back, for there was no house to be seen anywhere. +But he was not frightened, for you know Diamond was used to things that +were rather out of the way. He threw himself down under a rose-bush, +and fell asleep. + +He woke, not out of his dream, but into it, thinking he heard a child's +voice, calling "Diamond, Diamond!" He jumped up, but all was still +about him. The rose-bushes were pouring out their odours in clouds. +He could see the scent like mists of the same colour as the rose, +issuing like a slow fountain and spreading in the air till it +joined the thin rosy vapour which hung over all the wilderness. +But again came the voice calling him, and it seemed to come from +over his head. He looked up, but saw only the deep blue sky full +of stars--more brilliant, however, than he had seen them before; +and both sky and stars looked nearer to the earth. + +While he gazed up, again he heard the cry. At the same moment he +saw one of the biggest stars over his head give a kind of twinkle +and jump, as if it went out and came in again. He threw himself +on his back, and fixed his eyes upon it. Nor had he gazed long +before it went out, leaving something like a scar in the blue. +But as he went on gazing he saw a face where the star had been-- +a merry face, with bright eyes. The eyes appeared not only to +see Diamond, but to know that Diamond had caught sight of them, +for the face withdrew the same moment. Again came the voice, +calling "Diamond, Diamond;" and in jumped the star to its place. + +Diamond called as loud as he could, right up into the sky: + +"Here's Diamond, down below you. What do you want him to do?" + +The next instant many of the stars round about that one went out, +and many voices shouted from the sky,-- + +"Come up; come up. We're so jolly! Diamond! Diamond!" + +This was followed by a peal of the merriest, kindliest laughter, +and all the stars jumped into their places again. + +"How am I to come up?" shouted Diamond. + +"Go round the rose-bush. It's got its foot in it," said the first voice. + +Diamond got up at once, and walked to the other side of the rose-bush. + +There he found what seemed the very opposite of what he wanted-- +a stair down into the earth. It was of turf and moss. It did not seem +to promise well for getting into the sky, but Diamond had learned +to look through the look of things. The voice must have meant +that he was to go down this stair; and down this stair Diamond went, +without waiting to think more about it. + +It was such a nice stair, so cool and soft--all the sides as well +as the steps grown with moss and grass and ferns! Down and down +Diamond went--a long way, until at last he heard the gurgling +and splashing of a little stream; nor had he gone much farther +before he met it--yes, met it coming up the stairs to meet him, +running up just as naturally as if it had been doing the other thing. +Neither was Diamond in the least surprised to see it pitching itself +from one step to another as it climbed towards him: he never +thought it was odd--and no more it was, there. It would have been +odd here. It made a merry tune as it came, and its voice was like +the laughter he had heard from the sky. This appeared promising; +and he went on, down and down the stair, and up and up the stream, +till at last he came where it hurried out from under a stone, +and the stair stopped altogether. And as the stream bubbled up, +the stone shook and swayed with its force; and Diamond thought he +would try to lift it. Lightly it rose to his hand, forced up by the +stream from below; and, by what would have seemed an unaccountable +perversion of things had he been awake, threatened to come tumbling +upon his head. But he avoided it, and when it fell, got upon it. +He now saw that the opening through which the water came pouring +in was over his head, and with the help of the stone he scrambled +out by it, and found himself on the side of a grassy hill which +rounded away from him in every direction, and down which came +the brook which vanished in the hole. But scarcely had he noticed +so much as this before a merry shouting and laughter burst upon him, +and a number of naked little boys came running, every one eager to get +to him first. At the shoulders of each fluttered two little wings, +which were of no use for flying, as they were mere buds; only being +made for it they could not help fluttering as if they were flying. +Just as the foremost of the troop reached him, one or two of +them fell, and the rest with shouts of laughter came tumbling +over them till they heaped up a mound of struggling merriment. +One after another they extricated themselves, and each as he got +free threw his arms round Diamond and kissed him. Diamond's heart +was ready to melt within him from clear delight. When they had all +embraced him,-- + +"Now let us have some fun," cried one, and with a shout they all scampered +hither and thither, and played the wildest gambols on the grassy slopes. +They kept constantly coming back to Diamond, however, as the centre of +their enjoyment, rejoicing over him as if they had found a lost playmate. + +There was a wind on the hillside which blew like the very embodiment +of living gladness. It blew into Diamond's heart, and made him +so happy that he was forced to sit down and cry. + +"Now let's go and dig for stars," said one who seemed to be +the captain of the troop. + +They all scurried away, but soon returned, one after another, +each with a pickaxe on his shoulder and a spade in his hand. +As soon as they were gathered, the captain led them in a straight +line to another part of the hill. Diamond rose and followed. + +"Here is where we begin our lesson for to-night," he said. +"Scatter and dig." + +There was no more fun. Each went by himself, walking slowly with bent +shoulders and his eyes fixed on the ground. Every now and then +one would stop, kneel down, and look intently, feeling with his +hands and parting the grass. One would get up and walk on again, +another spring to his feet, catch eagerly at his pickaxe and +strike it into the ground once and again, then throw it aside, +snatch up his spade, and commence digging at the loosened earth. +Now one would sorrowfully shovel the earth into the hole again, +trample it down with his little bare white feet, and walk on. +But another would give a joyful shout, and after much tugging +and loosening would draw from the hole a lump as big as his head, +or no bigger than his fist; when the under side of it would pour +such a blaze of golden or bluish light into Diamond's eyes that he +was quite dazzled. Gold and blue were the commoner colours: +the jubilation was greater over red or green or purple. And every +time a star was dug up all the little angels dropped their tools +and crowded about it, shouting and dancing and fluttering their +wing-buds. + +When they had examined it well, they would kneel down one after the +other and peep through the hole; but they always stood back to give +Diamond the first look. All that diamond could report, however, was, +that through the star-holes he saw a great many things and places +and people he knew quite well, only somehow they were different-- +there was something marvellous about them--he could not tell what. +Every time he rose from looking through a star-hole, he felt as if his +heart would break for, joy; and he said that if he had not cried, +he did not know what would have become of him. + +As soon as all had looked, the star was carefully fitted in again, +a little mould was strewn over it, and the rest of the heap left +as a sign that the star had been discovered. + +At length one dug up a small star of a most lovely colour--a colour +Diamond had never seen before. The moment the angel saw what it was, +instead of showing it about, he handed it to one of his neighbours, +and seated himself on the edge of the hole, saying: + +"This will do for me. Good-bye. I'm off." + +They crowded about him, hugging and kissing him; then stood back +with a solemn stillness, their wings lying close to their shoulders. +The little fellow looked round on them once with a smile, and then +shot himself headlong through the star-hole. Diamond, as privileged, +threw himself on the ground to peep after him, but he saw nothing. +"It's no use," said the captain. "I never saw anything more of one +that went that way." + +"His wings can't be much use," said Diamond, concerned and fearful, +yet comforted by the calm looks of the rest. + +"That's true," said the captain. "He's lost them by this time. +They all do that go that way. You haven't got any, you see." + +"No," said Diamond. "I never did have any." + +"Oh! didn't you?" said the captain. + +"Some people say," he added, after a pause, "that they come again. +I don't know. I've never found the colour I care about myself. +I suppose I shall some day." + +Then they looked again at the star, put it carefully into its hole, +danced around it and over it--but solemnly, and called it by the name +of the finder. + +"Will you know it again?" asked Diamond. + +"Oh, yes. We never forget a star that's been made a door of." + +Then they went on with their searching and digging. + +Diamond having neither pickaxe nor spade, had the more time to think. + +"I don't see any little girls," he said at last. + +The captain stopped his shovelling, leaned on his spade, rubbed his +forehead thoughtfully with his left hand--the little angels were +all left-handed--repeated the words "little girls," and then, +as if a thought had struck him, resumed his work, saying-- + +"I think I know what you mean. I've never seen any of them, of course; +but I suppose that's the sort you mean. I'm told--but mind I don't +say it is so, for I don't know--that when we fall asleep, a troop +of angels very like ourselves, only quite different, goes round +to all the stars we have discovered, and discovers them after us. +I suppose with our shovelling and handling we spoil them a bit; +and I daresay the clouds that come up from below make them smoky +and dull sometimes. They say--mind, I say they say--these other +angels take them out one by one, and pass each round as we do, +and breathe over it, and rub it with their white hands, which are +softer than ours, because they don't do any pick-and-spade work, +and smile at it, and put it in again: and that is what keeps them from +growing dark." + +"How jolly!" thought Diamond. "I should like to see them at their +work too.--When do you go to sleep?" he asked the captain. + +"When we grow sleepy," answered the captain. "They do say--but mind +I say they say--that it is when those others--what do you call them? +I don't know if that is their name; I am only guessing that may be +the sort you mean--when they are on their rounds and come near any +troop of us we fall asleep. They live on the west side of the hill. +None of us have ever been to the top of it yet." + +Even as he spoke, he dropped his spade. He tumbled down beside it, +and lay fast asleep. One after the other each of the troop dropped +his pickaxe or shovel from his listless hands, and lay fast asleep +by his work. + +"Ah!" thought Diamond to himself, with delight, "now the girl-angels +are coming, and I, not being an angel, shall not fall asleep +like the rest, and I shall see the girl-angels." + +But the same moment he felt himself growing sleepy. He struggled +hard with the invading power. He put up his fingers to his eyelids +and pulled them open. But it was of no use. He thought he saw +a glimmer of pale rosy light far up the green hill, and ceased +to know. + +When he awoke, all the angels were starting up wide awake too. +He expected to see them lift their tools, but no, the time for play +had come. They looked happier than ever, and each began to sing +where he stood. He had not heard them sing before. + +"Now," he thought, "I shall know what kind of nonsense the angels +sing when they are merry. They don't drive cabs, I see, but they +dig for stars, and they work hard enough to be merry after it." + +And he did hear some of the angels' nonsense; for if it was all +sense to them, it had only just as much sense to Diamond as made +good nonsense of it. He tried hard to set it down in his mind, +listening as closely as he could, now to one, now to another, +and now to all together. But while they were yet singing he began, +to his dismay, to find that he was coming awake--faster and faster. +And as he came awake, he found that, for all the goodness of his memory, +verse after verse of the angels' nonsense vanished from it. +He always thought he could keep the last, but as the next began he +lost the one before it, and at length awoke, struggling to keep hold +of the last verse of all. He felt as if the effort to keep from +forgetting that one verse of the vanishing song nearly killed him. +And yet by the time he was wide awake he could not be sure of that even. +It was something like this: + + + White hands of whiteness + Wash the stars' faces, + Till glitter, glitter, glit, goes their brightness + Down to poor places. + + +This, however, was so near sense that he thought it could not be +really what they did sing. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +DIAMOND TAKES A FARE THE WRONG WAY RIGHT + + +THE next morning Diamond was up almost as early as before. He had nothing +to fear from his mother now, and made no secret of what he was about. +By the time he reached the stable, several of the men were there. +They asked him a good many questions as to his luck the day before, +and he told them all they wanted to know. But when he proceeded +to harness the old horse, they pushed him aside with rough kindness, +called him a baby, and began to do it all for him. So Diamond +ran in and had another mouthful of tea and bread and butter; +and although he had never been so tired as he was the night before, +he started quite fresh this morning. It was a cloudy day, +and the wind blew hard from the north--so hard sometimes that, +perched on the box with just his toes touching the ground, +Diamond wished that he had some kind of strap to fasten himself +down with lest he should be blown away. But he did not really +mind it. + +His head was full of the dream he had dreamed; but it did not make +him neglect his work, for his work was not to dig stars but to drive +old Diamond and pick up fares. There are not many people who can +think about beautiful things and do common work at the same time. +But then there are not many people who have been to the back of the +north wind. + +There was not much business doing. And Diamond felt rather cold, +notwithstanding his mother had herself put on his comforter +and helped him with his greatcoat. But he was too well aware +of his dignity to get inside his cab as some do. A cabman ought +to be above minding the weather--at least so Diamond thought. +At length he was called to a neighbouring house, where a young woman +with a heavy box had to be taken to Wapping for a coast-steamer. + +He did not find it at all pleasant, so far east and so near the river; +for the roughs were in great force. However, there being no block, +not even in Nightingale Lane, he reached the entrance of the wharf, +and set down his passenger without annoyance. But as he turned +to go back, some idlers, not content with chaffing him, showed a +mind to the fare the young woman had given him. They were just +pulling him off the box, and Diamond was shouting for the police, +when a pale-faced man, in very shabby clothes, but with the look +of a gentleman somewhere about him, came up, and making good use of +his stick, drove them off. + +"Now, my little man," he said, "get on while you can. Don't lose +any time. This is not a place for you." + +But Diamond was not in the habit of thinking only of himself. +He saw that his new friend looked weary, if not ill, and very poor. + +"Won't you jump in, sir?" he said. "I will take you wherever +you like." + +"Thank you, my man; but I have no money; so I can't." + +"Oh! I don't want any money. I shall be much happier if you will +get in. You have saved me all I had. I owe you a lift, sir." + +"Which way are you going?" + +"To Charing Cross; but I don't mind where I go." + +"Well, I am very tired. If you will take me to Charing Cross, +I shall be greatly obliged to you. I have walked from Gravesend, +and had hardly a penny left to get through the tunnel." + +So saying, he opened the door and got in, and Diamond drove away. + +But as he drove, he could not help fancying he had seen the gentleman-- +for Diamond knew he was a gentleman--before. Do all he could, +however, he could not recall where or when. Meantime his fare, +if we may call him such, seeing he was to pay nothing, whom the relief +of being carried had made less and less inclined to carry himself, +had been turning over things in his mind, and, as they passed +the Mint, called to Diamond, who stopped the horse, got down +and went to the window. + +"If you didn't mind taking me to Chiswick, I should be able +to pay you when we got there. It's a long way, but you shall +have the whole fare from the Docks--and something over." + +"Very well, sir" said Diamond. "I shall be most happy." + +He was just clambering up again, when the gentleman put his head +out of the window and said-- + +"It's The Wilderness--Mr. Coleman's place; but I'll direct you +when we come into the neighbourhood." + +It flashed upon Diamond who he was. But he got upon his box +to arrange his thoughts before making any reply. + +The gentleman was Mr. Evans, to whom Miss Coleman was to have been +married, and Diamond had seen him several times with her in the garden. +I have said that he had not behaved very well to Miss Coleman. +He had put off their marriage more than once in a cowardly fashion, +merely because he was ashamed to marry upon a small income, +and live in a humble way. When a man thinks of what people will say +in such a case, he may love, but his love is but a poor affair. +Mr. Coleman took him into the firm as a junior partner, and it +was in a measure through his influence that he entered upon those +speculations which ruined him. So his love had not been a blessing. +The ship which North Wind had sunk was their last venture, +and Mr. Evans had gone out with it in the hope of turning its +cargo to the best advantage. He was one of the single boat-load +which managed to reach a desert island, and he had gone through +a great many hardships and sufferings since then. But he was not +past being taught, and his troubles had done him no end of good, +for they had made him doubt himself, and begin to think, so that +he had come to see that he had been foolish as well as wicked. +For, if he had had Miss Coleman with him in the desert island, +to build her a hut, and hunt for her food, and make clothes for her, +he would have thought himself the most fortunate of men; and when he +was at home, he would not marry till he could afford a man-servant. +Before he got home again, he had even begun to understand that no man +can make haste to be rich without going against the will of God, +in which case it is the one frightful thing to be successful. +So he had come back a more humble man, and longing to ask Miss Coleman +to forgive him. But he had no idea what ruin had fallen upon them, +for he had never made himself thoroughly acquainted with the +firm's affairs. Few speculative people do know their own affairs. +Hence he never doubted he should find matters much as he left them, +and expected to see them all at The Wilderness as before. But if he +had not fallen in with Diamond, he would not have thought of going +there first. + +What was Diamond to do? He had heard his father and mother drop +some remarks concerning Mr. Evans which made him doubtful of him. +He understood that he had not been so considerate as he might have been. +So he went rather slowly till he should make up his mind. It was, +of course, of no use to drive Mr. Evans to Chiswick. But if he +should tell him what had befallen them, and where they lived now, +he might put off going to see them, and he was certain that Miss Coleman, +at least, must want very much to see Mr. Evans. He was pretty sure +also that the best thing in any case was to bring them together, +and let them set matters right for themselves. + +The moment he came to this conclusion, he changed his course from +westward to northward, and went straight for Mr. Coleman's poor +little house in Hoxton. Mr. Evans was too tired and too much +occupied with his thoughts to take the least notice of the streets +they passed through, and had no suspicion, therefore, of the change +of direction. + +By this time the wind had increased almost to a hurricane, and as they +had often to head it, it was no joke for either of the Diamonds. +The distance, however, was not great. Before they reached the street +where Mr. Coleman lived it blew so tremendously, that when Miss Coleman, +who was going out a little way, opened the door, it dashed against +the wall with such a bang, that she was afraid to venture, and went +in again. In five minutes after, Diamond drew up at the door. +As soon as he had entered the street, however, the wind blew +right behind them, and when he pulled up, old Diamond had so much +ado to stop the cab against it, that the breeching broke. +Young Diamond jumped off his box, knocked loudly at the door, +then turned to the cab and said--before Mr. Evans had quite begun +to think something must be amiss: + +"Please, sir, my harness has given away. Would you mind stepping +in here for a few minutes? They're friends of mine. I'll take you +where you like after I've got it mended. I shan't be many minutes, +but you can't stand in this wind." + +Half stupid with fatigue and want of food, Mr. Evans yielded +to the boy's suggestion, and walked in at the door which the maid +held with difficulty against the wind. She took Mr. Evans +for a visitor, as indeed he was, and showed him into the room +on the ground-floor. Diamond, who had followed into the hall, +whispered to her as she closed the door-- + +"Tell Miss Coleman. It's Miss Coleman he wants to see." + +"I don't know" said the maid. "He don't look much like a gentleman." + +"He is, though; and I know him, and so does Miss Coleman." + +The maid could not but remember Diamond, having seen him when he +and his father brought the ladies home. So she believed him, +and went to do what he told her. + +What passed in the little parlour when Miss Coleman came down +does not belong to my story, which is all about Diamond. +If he had known that Miss Coleman thought Mr. Evans was dead, +perhaps he would have managed differently. There was a cry +and a running to and fro in the house, and then all was quiet again. + +Almost as soon as Mr. Evans went in, the wind began to cease, +and was now still. Diamond found that by making the breeching +just a little tighter than was quite comfortable for the old +horse he could do very well for the present; and, thinking it +better to let him have his bag in this quiet place, he sat +on the box till the old horse should have eaten his dinner. +In a little while Mr. Evans came out, and asked him to come in. +Diamond obeyed, and to his delight Miss Coleman put her arms round +him and kissed him, and there was payment for him! Not to mention +the five precious shillings she gave him, which he could not refuse +because his mother wanted them so much at home for his father. +He left them nearly as happy as they were themselves. + +The rest of the day he did better, and, although he had not so +much to take home as the day before, yet on the whole the result +was satisfactory. And what a story he had to tell his father +and mother about his adventures, and how he had done, and what was +the result! They asked him such a multitude of questions! some +of which he could answer, and some of which he could not answer; +and his father seemed ever so much better from finding that his boy +was already not only useful to his family but useful to other people, +and quite taking his place as a man who judged what was wise, +and did work worth doing. + +For a fortnight Diamond went on driving his cab, and keeping his family. +He had begun to be known about some parts of London, and people would +prefer taking his cab because they liked what they heard of him. +One gentleman who lived near the mews engaged him to carry him +to the City every morning at a certain hour; and Diamond was +punctual as clockwork--though to effect that required a good deal +of care, for his father's watch was not much to be depended on, +and had to be watched itself by the clock of St. George's church. +Between the two, however, he did make a success of it. + +After that fortnight, his father was able to go out again. +Then Diamond went to make inquiries about Nanny, and this led +to something else. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL + + +THE first day his father resumed his work, Diamond went with him +as usual. In the afternoon, however, his father, having taken +a fare to the neighbourhood, went home, and Diamond drove the cab +the rest of the day. It was hard for old Diamond to do all +the work, but they could not afford to have another horse. +They contrived to save him as much as possible, and fed him well, +and he did bravely. + +The next morning his father was so much stronger that Diamond +thought he might go and ask Mr. Raymond to take him to see Nanny. +He found him at home. His servant had grown friendly by this time, +and showed him in without any cross-questioning. Mr. Raymond received +him with his usual kindness, consented at once, and walked with him +to the Hospital, which was close at hand. It was a comfortable +old-fashioned house, built in the reign of Queen Anne, and in her day, +no doubt, inhabited by rich and fashionable people: now it was a home +for poor sick children, who were carefully tended for love's sake. +There are regions in London where a hospital in every other street +might be full of such children, whose fathers and mothers are dead, +or unable to take care of them. + +When Diamond followed Mr. Raymond into the room where those children +who had got over the worst of their illness and were growing better lay, +he saw a number of little iron bedsteads, with their heads to the walls, +and in every one of them a child, whose face was a story in itself. +In some, health had begun to appear in a tinge upon the cheeks, +and a doubtful brightness in the eyes, just as out of the cold dreary +winter the spring comes in blushing buds and bright crocuses. +In others there were more of the signs of winter left. Their faces +reminded you of snow and keen cutting winds, more than of sunshine +and soft breezes and butterflies; but even in them the signs +of suffering told that the suffering was less, and that if the +spring-time had but arrived, it had yet arrived. + +Diamond looked all round, but could see no Nanny. He turned +to Mr. Raymond with a question in his eyes. + +"Well?" said Mr. Raymond. + +"Nanny's not here," said Diamond. + +"Oh, yes, she is." + +"I don't see her." + +"I do, though. There she is." + +He pointed to a bed right in front of where Diamond was standing. + +"That's not Nanny," he said. + +"It is Nanny. I have seen her many times since you have. +Illness makes a great difference." + +"Why, that girl must have been to the back of the north wind!" +thought Diamond, but he said nothing, only stared; and as he stared, +something of the old Nanny began to dawn through the face of the +new Nanny. The old Nanny, though a good girl, and a friendly girl, +had been rough, blunt in her speech, and dirty in her person. +Her face would always have reminded one who had already been to the back +of the north wind of something he had seen in the best of company, +but it had been coarse notwithstanding, partly from the weather, +partly from her living amongst low people, and partly from having +to defend herself: now it was so sweet, and gentle, and refined, +that she might have had a lady and gentleman for a father and mother. +And Diamond could not help thinking of words which he had heard +in the church the day before: "Surely it is good to be afflicted;" +or something like that. North Wind, somehow or other, must have +had to do with her! She had grown from a rough girl into a gentle +maiden. + +Mr. Raymond, however, was not surprised, for he was used to see +such lovely changes--something like the change which passes upon +the crawling, many-footed creature, when it turns sick and ill, +and revives a butterfly, with two wings instead of many feet. +Instead of her having to take care of herself, kind hands ministered +to her, making her comfortable and sweet and clean, soothing her +aching head, and giving her cooling drink when she was thirsty; +and kind eyes, the stars of the kingdom of heaven, had shone upon her; +so that, what with the fire of the fever and the dew of tenderness, +that which was coarse in her had melted away, and her whole face +had grown so refined and sweet that Diamond did not know her. But as +he gazed, the best of the old face, all the true and good part of it, +that which was Nanny herself, dawned upon him, like the moon coming +out of a cloud, until at length, instead of only believing Mr. Raymond +that this was she, he saw for himself that it was Nanny indeed-- +very worn but grown beautiful. + +He went up to her. She smiled. He had heard her laugh, but had +never seen her smile before. + +"Nanny, do you know me?" said Diamond. + +She only smiled again, as if the question was amusing. + +She was not likely to forget him; for although she did not yet know +it was he who had got her there, she had dreamed of him often, +and had talked much about him when delirious. Nor was it much wonder, +for he was the only boy except Joe who had ever shown her kindness. + +Meantime Mr. Raymond was going from bed to bed, talking to the +little people. Every one knew him, and every one was eager +to have a look, and a smile, and a kind word from him. + +Diamond sat down on a stool at the head of Nanny's bed. She laid +her hand in his. No one else of her old acquaintance had been +near her. + +Suddenly a little voice called aloud-- + +"Won't Mr. Raymond tell us a story?" + +"Oh, yes, please do! please do!" cried several little voices which +also were stronger than the rest. For Mr. Raymond was in the habit +of telling them a story when he went to see them, and they enjoyed +it far more than the other nice things which the doctor permitted +him to give them. + +"Very well," said Mr. Raymond, "I will. What sort of a story shall +it be?" + +"A true story," said one little girl. + +"A fairy tale," said a little boy. + +"Well," said Mr. Raymond, "I suppose, as there is a difference, +I may choose. I can't think of any true story just at this moment, +so I will tell you a sort of a fairy one." + +"Oh, jolly!" exclaimed the little boy who had called out for +a fairy tale. + +"It came into my head this morning as I got out of bed," +continued Mr. Raymond; "and if it turns out pretty well, +I will write it down, and get somebody to print it for me, +and then you shall read it when you like." + +"Then nobody ever heard it before?" asked one older child. + +"No, nobody." + +"Oh!" exclaimed several, thinking it very grand to have the first telling; +and I daresay there might be a peculiar freshness about it, +because everything would be nearly as new to the story-teller +himself as to the listeners. + +Some were only sitting up and some were lying down, so there could +not be the same busy gathering, bustling, and shifting to and fro +with which children generally prepare themselves to hear a story; +but their faces, and the turning of their heads, and many feeble +exclamations of expected pleasure, showed that all such preparations +were making within them. + +Mr. Raymond stood in the middle of the room, that he might turn from +side to side, and give each a share of seeing him. Diamond kept +his place by Nanny's side, with her hand in his. I do not know +how much of Mr. Raymond's story the smaller children understood; +indeed, I don't quite know how much there was in it to be understood, +for in such a story every one has just to take what he can get. +But they all listened with apparent satisfaction, and certainly +with great attention. Mr. Raymond wrote it down afterwards, +and here it is--somewhat altered no doubt, for a good story-teller +tries to make his stories better every time he tells them. +I cannot myself help thinking that he was somewhat indebted for this +one to the old story of The Sleeping Beauty. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +LITTLE DAYLIGHT + + +NO HOUSE of any pretension to be called a palace is in the least +worthy of the name, except it has a wood near it--very near it-- +and the nearer the better. Not all round it--I don't mean that, +for a palace ought to be open to the sun and wind, and stand +high and brave, with weathercocks glittering and flags flying; +but on one side of every palace there must be a wood. And there +was a very grand wood indeed beside the palace of the king who was +going to be Daylight's father; such a grand wood, that nobody yet +had ever got to the other end of it. Near the house it was kept +very trim and nice, and it was free of brushwood for a long way in; +but by degrees it got wild, and it grew wilder, and wilder, and wilder, +until some said wild beasts at last did what they liked in it. +The king and his courtiers often hunted, however, and this kept the wild +beasts far away from the palace. + +One glorious summer morning, when the wind and sun were out together, +when the vanes were flashing and the flags frolicking against +the blue sky, little Daylight made her appearance from somewhere-- +nobody could tell where--a beautiful baby, with such bright eyes +that she might have come from the sun, only by and by she showed such +lively ways that she might equally well have come out of the wind. +There was great jubilation in the palace, for this was the first baby +the queen had had, and there is as much happiness over a new baby +in a palace as in a cottage. + +But there is one disadvantage of living near a wood: you do not know +quite who your neighbours may be. Everybody knew there were in it +several fairies, living within a few miles of the palace, who always +had had something to do with each new baby that came; for fairies live +so much longer than we, that they can have business with a good many +generations of human mortals. The curious houses they lived in were +well known also,--one, a hollow oak; another, a birch-tree, though +nobody could ever find how that fairy made a house of it; another, a hut +of growing trees intertwined, and patched up with turf and moss. +But there was another fairy who had lately come to the place, +and nobody even knew she was a fairy except the other fairies. +A wicked old thing she was, always concealing her power, +and being as disagreeable as she could, in order to tempt people +to give her offence, that she might have the pleasure of taking +vengeance upon them. The people about thought she was a witch, +and those who knew her by sight were careful to avoid offending her. +She lived in a mud house, in a swampy part of the forest. + +In all history we find that fairies give their remarkable gifts +to prince or princess, or any child of sufficient importance in +their eyes, always at the christening. Now this we can understand, +because it is an ancient custom amongst human beings as well; +and it is not hard to explain why wicked fairies should choose +the same time to do unkind things; but it is difficult to understand +how they should be able to do them, for you would fancy all wicked +creatures would be powerless on such an occasion. But I never knew +of any interference on the part of the wicked fairy that did not +turn out a good thing in the end. What a good thing, for instance, +it was that one princess should sleep for a hundred years! Was she +not saved from all the plague of young men who were not worthy of her? +And did she not come awake exactly at the right moment when the +right prince kissed her? For my part, I cannot help wishing a good +many girls would sleep till just the same fate overtook them. +It would be happier for them, and more agreeable to their friends. + +Of course all the known fairies were invited to the christening. +But the king and queen never thought of inviting an old witch. + +For the power of the fairies they have by nature; whereas a witch gets +her power by wickedness. The other fairies, however, knowing the +danger thus run, provided as well as they could against accidents +from her quarter. But they could neither render her powerless, +nor could they arrange their gifts in reference to hers beforehand, +for they could not tell what those might be. + +Of course the old hag was there without being asked. Not to be +asked was just what she wanted, that she might have a sort of reason +for doing what she wished to do. For somehow even the wickedest +of creatures likes a pretext for doing the wrong thing. + +Five fairies had one after the other given the child such gifts +as each counted best, and the fifth had just stepped back to her +place in the surrounding splendour of ladies and gentlemen, when, +mumbling a laugh between her toothless gums, the wicked fairy +hobbled out into the middle of the circle, and at the moment +when the archbishop was handing the baby to the lady at the head +of the nursery department of state affairs, addressed him thus, +giving a bite or two to every word before she could part with it: + +"Please your Grace, I'm very deaf: would your Grace mind repeating +the princess's name?" + +"With pleasure, my good woman," said the archbishop, stooping to +shout in her ear: "the infant's name is little Daylight." + +"And little daylight it shall be," cried the fairy, in the tone +of a dry axle, "and little good shall any of her gifts do her. +For I bestow upon her the gift of sleeping all day long, whether she +will or not. Ha, ha! He, he! Hi, hi!" + +Then out started the sixth fairy, who, of course, the others +had arranged should come after the wicked one, in order to undo +as much as she might. + +"If she sleep all day," she said, mournfully, "she shall, at least, +wake all night." + +"A nice prospect for her mother and me!" thought the poor king; +for they loved her far too much to give her up to nurses, +especially at night, as most kings and queens do--and are sorry +for it afterwards. + +"You spoke before I had done," said the wicked fairy. "That's against +the law. It gives me another chance." + +"I beg your pardon," said the other fairies, all together. + +"She did. I hadn't done laughing," said the crone. "I had only got +to Hi, hi! and I had to go through Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! So I decree +that if she wakes all night she shall wax and wane with its mistress, +the moon. And what that may mean I hope her royal parents will +live to see. Ho, ho! Hu, hu!" + +But out stepped another fairy, for they had been wise enough to keep +two in reserve, because every fairy knew the trick of one. + +"Until," said the seventh fairy, "a prince comes who shall kiss +her without knowing it." + +The wicked fairy made a horrid noise like an angry cat, and hobbled away. +She could not pretend that she had not finished her speech this time, +for she had laughed Ho, ho! and Hu, hu! + +"I don't know what that means," said the poor king to the seventh fairy. + +"Don't be afraid. The meaning will come with the thing itself," +said she. + +The assembly broke up, miserable enough--the queen, at least, +prepared for a good many sleepless nights, and the lady at the head +of the nursery department anything but comfortable in the prospect +before her, for of course the queen could not do it all. As for +the king, he made up his mind, with what courage he could summon, +to meet the demands of the case, but wondered whether he could +with any propriety require the First Lord of the Treasury to take +a share in the burden laid upon him. + +I will not attempt to describe what they had to go through for some time. +But at last the household settled into a regular system--a very irregular +one in some respects. For at certain seasons the palace rang all night +with bursts of laughter from little Daylight, whose heart the old +fairy's curse could not reach; she was Daylight still, only a little +in the wrong place, for she always dropped asleep at the first hint +of dawn in the east. But her merriment was of short duration. +When the moon was at the full, she was in glorious spirits, +and as beautiful as it was possible for a child of her age to be. +But as the moon waned, she faded, until at last she was wan and +withered like the poorest, sickliest child you might come upon +in the streets of a great city in the arms of a homeless mother. +Then the night was quiet as the day, for the little creature +lay in her gorgeous cradle night and day with hardly a motion, +and indeed at last without even a moan, like one dead. At first +they often thought she was dead, but at last they got used to it, +and only consulted the almanac to find the moment when she would begin +to revive, which, of course, was with the first appearance of the +silver thread of the crescent moon. Then she would move her lips, +and they would give her a little nourishment; and she would grow better +and better and better, until for a few days she was splendidly well. +When well, she was always merriest out in the moonlight; but even +when near her worst, she seemed better when, in warm summer nights, +they carried her cradle out into the light of the waning moon. +Then in her sleep she would smile the faintest, most pitiful smile. + +For a long time very few people ever saw her awake. As she grew +older she became such a favourite, however, that about the palace +there were always some who would contrive to keep awake at night, +in order to be near her. But she soon began to take every chance +of getting away from her nurses and enjoying her moonlight alone. +And thus things went on until she was nearly seventeen years of age. +Her father and mother had by that time got so used to the odd +state of things that they had ceased to wonder at them. All their +arrangements had reference to the state of the Princess Daylight, +and it is amazing how things contrive to accommodate themselves. +But how any prince was ever to find and deliver her, +appeared inconceivable. + +As she grew older she had grown more and more beautiful, with the +sunniest hair and the loveliest eyes of heavenly blue, brilliant and +profound as the sky of a June day. But so much more painful and sad +was the change as her bad time came on. The more beautiful she +was in the full moon, the more withered and worn did she become +as the moon waned. At the time at which my story has now arrived, +she looked, when the moon was small or gone, like an old woman +exhausted with suffering. This was the more painful that her +appearance was unnatural; for her hair and eyes did not change. +Her wan face was both drawn and wrinkled, and had an eager hungry look. +Her skinny hands moved as if wishing, but unable, to lay hold +of something. Her shoulders were bent forward, her chest went in, +and she stooped as if she were eighty years old. At last she had +to be put to bed, and there await the flow of the tide of life. +But she grew to dislike being seen, still more being touched +by any hands, during this season. One lovely summer evening, +when the moon lay all but gone upon the verge of the horizon, +she vanished from her attendants, and it was only after searching +for her a long time in great terror, that they found her fast +asleep in the forest, at the foot of a silver birch, and carried +her home. + +A little way from the palace there was a great open glade, covered with +the greenest and softest grass. This was her favourite haunt; +for here the full moon shone free and glorious, while through a vista +in the trees she could generally see more or less of the dying moon +as it crossed the opening. Here she had a little rustic house +built for her, and here she mostly resided. None of the court +might go there without leave, and her own attendants had learned +by this time not to be officious in waiting upon her, so that she +was very much at liberty. Whether the good fairies had anything +to do with it or not I cannot tell, but at last she got into the way +of retreating further into the wood every night as the moon waned, +so that sometimes they had great trouble in finding her; but as she +was always very angry if she discovered they were watching her, +they scarcely dared to do so. At length one night they thought they +had lost her altogether. It was morning before they found her. +Feeble as she was, she had wandered into a thicket a long way from +the glade, and there she lay--fast asleep, of course. + +Although the fame of her beauty and sweetness had gone abroad, +yet as everybody knew she was under a bad spell, no king in the +neighbourhood had any desire to have her for a daughter-in-law. +There were serious objections to such a relation. + +About this time in a neighbouring kingdom, in consequence of the +wickedness of the nobles, an insurrection took place upon the death +of the old king, the greater part of the nobility was massacred, +and the young prince was compelled to flee for his life, disguised +like a peasant. For some time, until he got out of the country, +he suffered much from hunger and fatigue; but when he got into +that ruled by the princess's father, and had no longer any fear +of being recognised, he fared better, for the people were kind. +He did not abandon his disguise, however. One tolerable reason +was that he had no other clothes to put on, and another that he +had very little money, and did not know where to get any more. +There was no good in telling everybody he met that he was a prince, +for he felt that a prince ought to be able to get on like other people, +else his rank only made a fool of him. He had read of princes +setting out upon adventure; and here he was out in similar case, +only without having had a choice in the matter. He would go on, +and see what would come of it. + +For a day or two he had been walking through the palace-wood, +and had had next to nothing to eat, when he came upon the strangest +little house, inhabited by a very nice, tidy, motherly old woman. +This was one of the good fairies. The moment she saw him she knew quite +well who he was and what was going to come of it; but she was not at +liberty to interfere with the orderly march of events. She received +him with the kindness she would have shown to any other traveller, +and gave him bread and milk, which he thought the most delicious food +he had ever tasted, wondering that they did not have it for dinner at +the palace sometimes. The old woman pressed him to stay all night. +When he awoke he was amazed to find how well and strong he felt. +She would not take any of the money he offered, but begged him, +if he found occasion of continuing in the neighbourhood, to return +and occupy the same quarters. + +"Thank you much, good mother," answered the prince; "but there is +little chance of that. The sooner I get out of this wood the better." + +"I don't know that," said the fairy. + +"What do you mean?" asked the prince. + +"Why, how should I know?" returned she. + +"I can't tell," said the prince. + +"Very well," said the fairy. + +"How strangely you talk!" said the prince. + +"Do I?" said the fairy. + +"Yes, you do," said the prince. + +"Very well," said the fairy. + +The prince was not used to be spoken to in this fashion, so he felt +a little angry, and turned and walked away. But this did not offend +the fairy. She stood at the door of her little house looking +after him till the trees hid him quite. Then she said "At last!" +and went in. + +The prince wandered and wandered, and got nowhere. The sun sank +and sank and went out of sight, and he seemed no nearer the end +of the wood than ever. He sat down on a fallen tree, ate a bit +of bread the old woman had given him, and waited for the moon; +for, although he was not much of an astronomer, he knew the moon +would rise some time, because she had risen the night before. +Up she came, slow and slow, but of a good size, pretty nearly +round indeed; whereupon, greatly refreshed with his piece of bread, +he got up and went--he knew not whither. + +After walking a considerable distance, he thought he was coming +to the outside of the forest; but when he reached what he thought +the last of it, he found himself only upon the edge of a great open +space in it, covered with grass. The moon shone very bright, +and he thought he had never seen a more lovely spot. Still it looked +dreary because of its loneliness, for he could not see the house at +the other side. He sat down, weary again, and gazed into the glade. +He had not seen so much room for several days. + +All at once he spied something in the middle of the grass. +What could it be? It moved; it came nearer. Was it a human creature, +gliding across--a girl dressed in white, gleaming in the moonshine? +She came nearer and nearer. He crept behind a tree and watched, +wondering. It must be some strange being of the wood--a nymph whom +the moonlight and the warm dusky air had enticed from her tree. +But when she came close to where he stood, he no longer doubted she +was human--for he had caught sight of her sunny hair, and her clear +blue eyes, and the loveliest face and form that he had ever seen. +All at once she began singing like a nightingale, and dancing +to her own music, with her eyes ever turned towards the moon. +She passed close to where he stood, dancing on by the edge of the trees +and away in a great circle towards the other side, until he could see +but a spot of white in the yellowish green of the moonlit grass. +But when he feared it would vanish quite, the spot grew, and became +a figure once more. She approached him again, singing and dancing, +and waving her arms over her head, until she had completed the circle. +Just opposite his tree she stood, ceased her song, dropped her arms, +and broke out into a long clear laugh, musical as a brook. Then, as +if tired, she threw herself on the grass, and lay gazing at the moon. +The prince was almost afraid to breathe lest he should startle her, +and she should vanish from his sight. As to venturing near her, +that never came into his head. + +She had lain for a long hour or longer, when the prince began again +to doubt concerning her. Perhaps she was but a vision of his own fancy. +Or was she a spirit of the wood, after all? If so, he too would +haunt the wood, glad to have lost kingdom and everything for the +hope of being near her. He would build him a hut in the forest, +and there he would live for the pure chance of seeing her again. +Upon nights like this at least she would come out and bask +in the moonlight, and make his soul blessed. But while he thus +dreamed she sprang to her feet, turned her face full to the moon, +and began singing as she would draw her down from the sky by the power +of her entrancing voice. She looked more beautiful than ever. +Again she began dancing to her own music, and danced away into +the distance. Once more she returned in a similar manner; +but although he was watching as eagerly as before, what with fatigue +and what with gazing, he fell fast asleep before she came near him. +When he awoke it was broad daylight, and the princess was nowhere. + +He could not leave the place. What if she should come the next night! +He would gladly endure a day's hunger to see her yet again: +he would buckle his belt quite tight. He walked round the glade +to see if he could discover any prints of her feet. But the grass +was so short, and her steps had been so light, that she had not +left a single trace behind her. He walked half-way round the wood +without seeing anything to account for her presence. Then he +spied a lovely little house, with thatched roof and low eaves, +surrounded by an exquisite garden, with doves and peacocks walking +in it. Of course this must be where the gracious lady who loved +the moonlight lived. Forgetting his appearance, he walked towards +the door, determined to make inquiries, but as he passed a little +pond full of gold and silver fishes, he caught sight of himself +and turned to find the door to the kitchen. There he knocked, +and asked for a piece of bread. The good-natured cook brought him in, +and gave him an excellent breakfast, which the prince found nothing +the worse for being served in the kitchen. While he ate, he talked +with his entertainer, and learned that this was the favourite +retreat of the Princess Daylight. But he learned nothing more, +both because he was afraid of seeming inquisitive, and because the cook +did not choose to be heard talking about her mistress to a peasant +lad who had begged for his breakfast. + +As he rose to take his leave, it occurred to him that he might +not be so far from the old woman's cottage as he had thought, +and he asked the cook whether she knew anything of such a place, +describing it as well as he could. She said she knew it well enough, +adding with a smile-- + +"It's there you're going, is it?" + +"Yes, if it's not far off." + +"It's not more than three miles. But mind what you are about, +you know." + +"Why do you say that?" + +"If you're after any mischief, she'll make you repent it." + +"The best thing that could happen under the circumstances," +remarked the prince. + +"What do you mean by that?" asked the cook. + +"Why, it stands to reason," answered the prince "that if you wish +to do anything wrong, the best thing for you is to be made to repent +of it." + +"I see," said the cook. "Well, I think you may venture. +She's a good old soul." + +"Which way does it lie from here?" asked the prince. + +She gave him full instructions; and he left her with many thanks. + +Being now refreshed, however, the prince did not go back to the cottage +that day: he remained in the forest, amusing himself as best he could, +but waiting anxiously for the night, in the hope that the princess +would again appear. Nor was he disappointed, for, directly the +moon rose, he spied a glimmering shape far across the glade. +As it drew nearer, he saw it was she indeed--not dressed in white +as before: in a pale blue like the sky, she looked lovelier still. +He thought it was that the blue suited her yet better than the white; +he did not know that she was really more beautiful because the +moon was nearer the full. In fact the next night was full moon, +and the princess would then be at the zenith of her loveliness. + +The prince feared for some time that she was not coming near his +hiding-place that night; but the circles in her dance ever widened +as the moon rose, until at last they embraced the whole glade, +and she came still closer to the trees where he was hiding than she +had come the night before. He was entranced with her loveliness, +for it was indeed a marvellous thing. All night long he watched her, +but dared not go near her. He would have been ashamed of watching +her too, had he not become almost incapable of thinking of anything +but how beautiful she was. He watched the whole night long, and saw +that as the moon went down she retreated in smaller and smaller circles, +until at last he could see her no more. + +Weary as he was, he set out for the old woman's cottage, where he +arrived just in time for her breakfast, which she shared with him. +He then went to bed, and slept for many hours. When he awoke +the sun was down, and he departed in great anxiety lest he should +lose a glimpse of the lovely vision. But, whether it was by the +machinations of the swamp-fairy, or merely that it is one thing +to go and another to return by the same road, he lost his way. +I shall not attempt to describe his misery when the moon rose, +and he saw nothing but trees, trees, trees. + +She was high in the heavens before he reached the glade. +Then indeed his troubles vanished, for there was the princess +coming dancing towards him, in a dress that shone like gold, +and with shoes that glimmered through the grass like fireflies. +She was of course still more beautiful than before. Like an embodied +sunbeam she passed him, and danced away into the distance. + +Before she returned in her circle, the clouds had begun to gather +about the moon. The wind rose, the trees moaned, and their lighter +branches leaned all one way before it. The prince feared that the +princess would go in, and he should see her no more that night. +But she came dancing on more jubilant than ever, her golden dress +and her sunny hair streaming out upon the blast, waving her arms +towards the moon, and in the exuberance of her delight ordering +the clouds away from off her face. The prince could hardly believe +she was not a creature of the elements, after all. + +By the time she had completed another circle, the clouds had +gathered deep, and there were growlings of distant thunder. +Just as she passed the tree where he stood, a flash of lightning +blinded him for a moment, and when he saw again, to his horror, +the princess lay on the ground. He darted to her, thinking she +had been struck; but when she heard him coming, she was on her feet +in a moment. + +"What do you want?" she asked. + +"I beg your pardon. I thought--the lightning" said the prince, +hesitating. + +"There's nothing the matter," said the princess, waving him off +rather haughtily. + +The poor prince turned and walked towards the wood. + +"Come back," said Daylight: "I like you. You do what you are told. +Are you good?" + +"Not so good as I should like to be," said the prince. + +"Then go and grow better," said the princess. + +Again the disappointed prince turned and went. + +"Come back," said the princess. + +He obeyed, and stood before her waiting. + +"Can you tell me what the sun is like?" she asked. + +"No," he answered. "But where's the good of asking what you know?" + +"But I don't know," she rejoined. + +"Why, everybody knows." + +"That's the very thing: I'm not everybody. I've never seen the sun." + +"Then you can't know what it's like till you do see it." + +"I think you must be a prince," said the princess. + +"Do I look like one?" said the prince. + +"I can't quite say that." + +"Then why do you think so?" + +"Because you both do what you are told and speak the truth.-- +Is the sun so very bright?" + +"As bright as the lightning." + +"But it doesn't go out like that, does it?" + +"Oh, no. It shines like the moon, rises and sets like the moon, +is much the same shape as the moon, only so bright that you can't +look at it for a moment." + +"But I would look at it," said the princess. + +"But you couldn't," said the prince. + +"But I could," said the princess. + +"Why don't you, then?" + +"Because I can't." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Because I can't wake. And I never shall wake until----" + +Here she hid her face in her hands, turned away, and walked in +the slowest, stateliest manner towards the house. The prince ventured +to follow her at a little distance, but she turned and made a repellent +gesture, which, like a true gentleman-prince, he obeyed at once. +He waited a long time, but as she did not come near him again, and as +the night had now cleared, he set off at last for the old woman's cottage. + +It was long past midnight when he reached it, but, to his surprise, +the old woman was paring potatoes at the door. Fairies are fond +of doing odd things. Indeed, however they may dissemble, the night +is always their day. And so it is with all who have fairy blood +in them. + +"Why, what are you doing there, this time of the night, mother?" +said the prince; for that was the kind way in which any young man +in his country would address a woman who was much older than himself. + +"Getting your supper ready, my son," she answered. + +"Oh, I don't want any supper," said the prince. + +"Ah! you've seen Daylight," said she. + +"I've seen a princess who never saw it," said the prince. + +"Do you like her?" asked the fairy. + +"Oh! don't I?" said the prince. "More than you would believe, mother." + +"A fairy can believe anything that ever was or ever could be," +said the old woman. + +"Then are you a fairy?" asked the prince. + +"Yes," said she. + +"Then what do you do for things not to believe?" asked the prince. + +"There's plenty of them--everything that never was nor ever could be." + +"Plenty, I grant you," said the prince. "But do you believe there +could be a princess who never saw the daylight? Do you believe +that now?" + +This the prince said, not that he doubted the princess, +but that he wanted the fairy to tell him more. +She was too old a fairy, however, to be caught so easily. + +"Of all people, fairies must not tell secrets. Besides, she's +a princess." + +"Well, I'll tell you a secret. I'm a prince." + +"I know that." + +"How do you know it?" + +"By the curl of the third eyelash on your left eyelid." + +"Which corner do you count from?" + +"That's a secret." + +"Another secret? Well, at least, if I am a prince, there can +be no harm in telling me about a princess." + +"It's just the princes I can't tell." + +"There ain't any more of them--are there?" said the prince. + +"What! you don't think you're the only prince in the world, +do you?" + +"Oh, dear, no! not at all. But I know there's one too many just +at present, except the princess----" + +"Yes, yes, that's it," said the fairy. + +"What's it?" asked the prince. + +But he could get nothing more out of the fairy, and had to go +to bed unanswered, which was something of a trial. + +Now wicked fairies will not be bound by the law which the good fairies +obey, and this always seems to give the bad the advantage over the good, +for they use means to gain their ends which the others will not. +But it is all of no consequence, for what they do never succeeds; nay, +in the end it brings about the very thing they are trying to prevent. +So you see that somehow, for all their cleverness, wicked fairies +are dreadfully stupid, for, although from the beginning of the world +they have really helped instead of thwarting the good fairies, +not one of them is a bit wiser for it. She will try the bad +thing just as they all did before her; and succeeds no better of course. + +The prince had so far stolen a march upon the swamp-fairy that she +did not know he was in the neighbourhood until after he had seen +the princess those three times. When she knew it, she consoled +herself by thinking that the princess must be far too proud and too +modest for any young man to venture even to speak to her before he +had seen her six times at least. But there was even less danger +than the wicked fairy thought; for, however much the princess +might desire to be set free, she was dreadfully afraid of the +wrong prince. Now, however, the fairy was going to do all she could. + +She so contrived it by her deceitful spells, that the next night +the prince could not by any endeavour find his way to the glade. +It would take me too long to tell her tricks. They would +be amusing to us, who know that they could not do any harm, +but they were something other than amusing to the poor prince. +He wandered about the forest till daylight, and then fell fast asleep. +The same thing occurred for seven following days, during which neither +could he find the good fairy's cottage. After the third quarter +of the moon, however, the bad fairy thought she might be at ease +about the affair for a fortnight at least, for there was no chance +of the prince wishing to kiss the princess during that period. +So the first day of the fourth quarter he did find the cottage, and the +next day he found the glade. For nearly another week he haunted it. +But the princess never came. I have little doubt she was on the +farther edge of it some part of every night, but at this period she +always wore black, and, there being little or no light, the prince +never saw her. Nor would he have known her if he had seen her. +How could he have taken the worn decrepit creature she was now, +for the glorious Princess Daylight? + +At last, one night when there was no moon at all, he ventured near +the house. There he heard voices talking, although it was past midnight; +for her women were in considerable uneasiness, because the one whose +turn it was to watch her had fallen asleep, and had not seen which +way she went, and this was a night when she would probably wander +very far, describing a circle which did not touch the open glade +at all, but stretched away from the back of the house, deep into +that side of the forest--a part of which the prince knew nothing. +When he understood from what they said that she had disappeared, +and that she must have gone somewhere in the said direction, +he plunged at once into the wood to see if he could find her. +For hours he roamed with nothing to guide him but the vague notion +of a circle which on one side bordered on the house, for so much +had he picked up from the talk he had overheard. + +It was getting towards the dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light +in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary +at the foot of it. While he sat--very miserable, you may be sure-- +full of fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants +could take it so quietly, he bethought himself that it would not +be a bad plan to light a fire, which, if she were anywhere near, +would attract her. This he managed with a tinder-box, which the +good fairy had given him. It was just beginning to blaze up, +when he heard a moan, which seemed to come from the other side of +the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart throbbed so that he +had to lean for a moment against the tree before he could move. +When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark heap +on the earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it +was not the princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier +than a child, and carried it to the flame. The countenance +was that of an old woman, but it had a fearfully strange look. +A black hood concealed her hair, and her eyes were closed. +He laid her down as comfortably as he could, chafed her hands, +put a little cordial from a bottle, also the gift of the fairy, +into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it about her, +and in short did the best he could. In a little while she opened +her eyes and looked at him--so pitifully! The tears rose and +flowed from her grey wrinkled cheeks, but she said never a word. +She closed her eyes again, but the tears kept on flowing, and her +whole appearance was so utterly pitiful that the prince was near +crying too. He begged her to tell him what was the matter, +promising to do all he could to help her; but still she did not speak. +He thought she was dying, and took her in his arms again to carry +her to the princess's house, where he thought the good-natured +cook might he able to do something for her. When he lifted her, +the tears flowed yet faster, and she gave such a sad moan that it +went to his very heart. + +"Mother, mother!" he said. "Poor mother!" and kissed her on +the withered lips. + +She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him! +But he did not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had +enough to do to make his way through the trees towards the house. + +Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could +have imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing-- +she began to move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her +a moment longer, he thought to lay her on the grass. But she stood +upright on her feet. Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her. +The first gleam of the morning was caught on her face: that face +was bright as the never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the +sky of darkest blue. The prince recoiled in overmastering wonder. +It was Daylight herself whom he had brought from the forest! +He fell at her feet, nor dared to look up until she laid her hand +upon his head. He rose then. + +"You kissed me when I was an old woman: there! I kiss you when I +am a young princess," murmured Daylight.--"Is that the sun coming?" + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +RUBY + + +THE children were delighted with the story, and made many amusing +remarks upon it. Mr. Raymond promised to search his brain for another, +and when he had found one to bring it to them. Diamond having +taken leave of Nanny, and promised to go and see her again soon, +went away with him. + +Now Mr. Raymond had been turning over in his mind what he could do both +for Diamond and for Nanny. He had therefore made some acquaintance +with Diamond's father, and had been greatly pleased with him. +But he had come to the resolution, before he did anything so good +as he would like to do for them, to put them all to a certain test. +So as they walked away together, he began to talk with Diamond +as follows:-- + +"Nanny must leave the hospital soon, Diamond." + +"I'm glad of that, sir." + +"Why? Don't you think it's a nice place?" + +"Yes, very. But it's better to be well and doing something, you know, +even if it's not quite so comfortable." + +"But they can't keep Nanny so long as they would like. They can't +keep her till she's quite strong. There are always so many sick +children they want to take in and make better. And the question is, +What will she do when they send her out again?" + +"That's just what I can't tell, though I've been thinking of it +over and over, sir. Her crossing was taken long ago, and I couldn't +bear to see Nanny fighting for it, especially with such a poor +fellow as has taken it. He's quite lame, sir." + +"She doesn't look much like fighting, now, does she, Diamond?" + +"No, sir. She looks too like an angel. Angels don't fight-- +do they, sir?" + +"Not to get things for themselves, at least," said Mr. Raymond. + +"Besides," added Diamond, "I don't quite see that she would have +any better right to the crossing than the boy who has got it. +Nobody gave it to her; she only took it. And now he has taken it." + +"If she were to sweep a crossing--soon at least--after the illness +she has had, she would be laid up again the very first wet day," +said Mr. Raymond. + +"And there's hardly any money to be got except on the wet days," +remarked Diamond reflectively. "Is there nothing else she +could do, sir?" + +"Not without being taught, I'm afraid." + +"Well, couldn't somebody teach her something?" + +"Couldn't you teach her, Diamond?" + +"I don't know anything myself, sir. I could teach her to dress the, +baby; but nobody would give her anything for doing things like that: +they are so easy. There wouldn't be much good in teaching +her to drive a cab, for where would she get the cab to drive? +There ain't fathers and old Diamonds everywhere. At least poor +Nanny can't find any of them, I doubt." + +"Perhaps if she were taught to be nice and clean, and only speak +gentle words" + +"Mother could teach her that," interrupted Diamond. + +"And to dress babies, and feed them, and take care of them," +Mr. Raymond proceeded, "she might get a place as a nurse somewhere, +you know. People do give money for that." + +"Then I'll ask mother," said Diamond. + +"But you'll have to give her her food then; and your father, +not being strong, has enough to do already without that." + +"But here's me," said Diamond: "I help him out with it. When he's tired +of driving, up I get. It don't make any difference to old Diamond. +I don't mean he likes me as well as my father--of course he can't, +you know--nobody could; but he does his duty all the same. +It's got to be done, you know, sir; and Diamond's a good horse-- +isn't he, sir?" + +"From your description I should say certainly; but I have not +the pleasure of his acquaintance myself." + +"Don't you think he will go to heaven, sir?" + +"That I don't know anything about," said Mr. Raymond. "I confess +I should be glad to think so," he added, smiling thoughtfully. + +"I'm sure he'll get to the back of the north wind, anyhow," +said Diamond to himself; but he had learned to be very careful +of saying such things aloud. + +"Isn't it rather too much for him to go in the cab all day +and every day?" resumed Mr. Raymond. + +"So father says, when he feels his ribs of a morning. But then he +says the old horse do eat well, and the moment he's had his supper, +down he goes, and never gets up till he's called; and, for the legs +of him, father says that makes no end of a differ. Some horses, sir! they +won't lie down all night long, but go to sleep on their four pins, +like a haystack, father says. I think it's very stupid of them, +and so does old Diamond. But then I suppose they don't know better, +and so they can't help it. We mustn't be too hard upon them, +father says." + +"Your father must be a good man, Diamond." Diamond looked up +in Mr. Raymond's face, wondering what he could mean. + +"I said your father must be a good man, Diamond." + +"Of course," said Diamond. "How could he drive a cab if he wasn't?" + +"There are some men who drive cabs who are not very good," +objected Mr. Raymond. + +Diamond remembered the drunken cabman, and saw that his friend +was right. + +"Ah, but," he returned, "he must be, you know, with such a horse +as old Diamond." + +"That does make a difference," said Mr. Raymond. "But it is quite +enough that he is a good man without our trying to account for it. +Now, if you like, I will give you a proof that I think him a good man. +I am going away on the Continent for a while--for three months, +I believe--and I am going to let my house to a gentleman who does +not want the use of my brougham. My horse is nearly as old, I fancy, +as your Diamond, but I don't want to part with him, and I don't +want him to be idle; for nobody, as you say, ought to be idle; +but neither do I want him to be worked very hard. Now, it has come +into my head that perhaps your father would take charge of him, +and work him under certain conditions." + +"My father will do what's right," said Diamond. "I'm sure of that." + +"Well, so I think. Will you ask him when he comes home to call +and have a little chat with me--to-day, some time?" + +"He must have his dinner first," said Diamond. "No, he's got +his dinner with him to-day. It must be after he's had his tea." + +"Of course, of course. Any time will do. I shall be at home +all day." + +"Very well, sir. I will tell him. You may be sure he will come. +My father thinks you a very kind gentleman, and I know he is right, +for I know your very own self, sir." + +Mr. Raymond smiled, and as they had now reached his door, +they parted, and Diamond went home. As soon as his father entered +the house, Diamond gave him Mr. Raymond's message, and recounted +the conversation that had preceded it. His father said little, +but took thought-sauce to his bread and butter, and as soon as he +had finished his meal, rose, saying: + +"I will go to your friend directly, Diamond. It would be a grand thing +to get a little more money. We do want it." Diamond accompanied +his father to Mr. Raymond's door, and there left him. + +He was shown at once into Mr. Raymond's study, where he gazed with +some wonder at the multitude of books on the walls, and thought +what a learned man Mr. Raymond must be. + +Presently Mr. Raymond entered, and after saying much the same +about his old horse, made the following distinct proposal-- +one not over-advantageous to Diamond's father, but for which he +had reasons--namely, that Joseph should have the use of Mr. Raymond's +horse while he was away, on condition that he never worked him +more than six hours a day, and fed him well, and that, besides, +he should take Nanny home as soon as she was able to leave +the hospital, and provide for her as one of his own children, +neither better nor worse--so long, that is, as he had the horse. + +Diamond's father could not help thinking it a pretty close bargain. +He should have both the girl and the horse to feed, and only six hours' +work out of the horse. + +"It will save your own horse," said Mr. Raymond. + +"That is true," answered Joseph; "but all I can get by my own horse +is only enough to keep us, and if I save him and feed your horse +and the girl--don't you see, sir?" + +"Well, you can go home and think about it, and let me know +by the end of the week. I am in no hurry before then." + +So Joseph went home and recounted the proposal to his wife, +adding that he did not think there was much advantage to be got +out of it. + +"Not much that way, husband," said Diamond's mother; "but there +would be an advantage, and what matter who gets it!" + +"I don't see it," answered her husband. "Mr. Raymond is a gentleman +of property, and I don't discover any much good in helping him to save +a little more. He won't easily get one to make such a bargain, and I +don't mean he shall get me. It would be a loss rather than a gain-- +I do think--at least if I took less work out of our own horse." + +"One hour would make a difference to old Diamond. But that's +not the main point. You must think what an advantage it would +be to the poor girl that hasn't a home to go to!" + +"She is one of Diamond's friends," thought his father. + +"I could be kind to her, you know," the mother went on, "and teach +her housework, and how to handle a baby; and, besides, she would +help me, and I should be the stronger for it, and able to do an odd +bit of charing now and then, when I got the chance." + +"I won't hear of that," said her husband. "Have the girl by all means. +I'm ashamed I did not think of both sides of the thing at once. +I wonder if the horse is a great eater. To be sure, if I gave Diamond +two hours' additional rest, it would be all the better for the old bones +of him, and there would be four hours extra out of the other horse. +That would give Diamond something to do every day. He could drive +old Diamond after dinner, and I could take the other horse out for +six hours after tea, or in the morning, as I found best. It might +pay for the keep of both of them,--that is, if I had good luck. +I should like to oblige Mr. Raymond, though he be rather hard, +for he has been very kind to our Diamond, wife. Hasn't he now?" + +"He has indeed, Joseph," said his wife, and there the conversation ended. + +Diamond's father went the very next day to Mr. Raymond, and accepted +his proposal; so that the week after having got another stall in +the same stable, he had two horses instead of one. Oddly enough, +the name of the new horse was Ruby, for he was a very red chestnut. +Diamond's name came from a white lozenge on his forehead. +Young Diamond said they were rich now, with such a big diamond and +such a big ruby. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +NANNY'S DREAM + + +NANNY was not fit to be moved for some time yet, and Diamond went +to see her as often as he could. But being more regularly engaged now, +seeing he went out every day for a few hours with old Diamond, +and had his baby to mind, and one of the horses to attend to, +he could not go so often as he would have liked. + +One evening, as he sat by her bedside, she said to him: + +"I've had such a beautiful dream, Diamond! I should like to tell +it you." + +"Oh! do," said Diamond; "I am so fond of dreams!" + +"She must have been to the back of the north wind," he said to himself. + +"It was a very foolish dream, you know. But somehow it was so pleasant! +What a good thing it is that you believe the dream all the time +you are in it!" + +My readers must not suppose that poor Nanny was able to say what she +meant so well as I put it down here. She had never been to school, +and had heard very little else than vulgar speech until she +came to the hospital. But I have been to school, and although +that could never make me able to dream so well as Nanny, it has +made me able to tell her dream better than she could herself. +And I am the more desirous of doing this for her that I have already +done the best I could for Diamond's dream, and it would be a shame +to give the boy all the advantage. + +"I will tell you all I know about it," said Nanny. "The day +before yesterday, a lady came to see us--a very beautiful lady, +and very beautifully dressed. I heard the matron say to her that it +was very kind of her to come in blue and gold; and she answered that she +knew we didn't like dull colours. She had such a lovely shawl on, +just like redness dipped in milk, and all worked over with flowers +of the same colour. It didn't shine much, it was silk, but it kept +in the shine. When she came to my bedside, she sat down, just where +you are sitting, Diamond, and laid her hand on the counterpane. +I was sitting up, with my table before me ready for my tea. Her hand +looked so pretty in its blue glove, that I was tempted to stroke it. +I thought she wouldn't be angry, for everybody that comes to the +hospital is kind. It's only in the streets they ain't kind. +But she drew her hand away, and I almost cried, for I thought I +had been rude. Instead of that, however, it was only that she +didn't like giving me her glove to stroke, for she drew it off, +and then laid her hand where it was before. I wasn't sure, but I +ventured to put out my ugly hand." + +"Your hand ain't ugly, Nanny," said Diamond; but Nanny went on-- + +"And I stroked it again, and then she stroked mine,--think of that! +And there was a ring on her finger, and I looked down to see what it +was like. And she drew it off, and put it upon one of my fingers. +It was a red stone, and she told me they called it a ruby." + +"Oh, that is funny!" said Diamond. "Our new horse is called Ruby. +We've got another horse--a red one--such a beauty!" + +But Nanny went on with her story. + +"I looked at the ruby all the time the lady was talking to me,-- +it was so beautiful! And as she talked I kept seeing deeper and deeper +into the stone. At last she rose to go away, and I began to pull +the ring off my finger; and what do you think she said?--"Wear +it all night, if you like. Only you must take care of it. +I can't give it you, for some one gave it to me; but you may keep it +till to-morrow." Wasn't it kind of her? I could hardly take my tea, +I was so delighted to hear it; and I do think it was the ring +that set me dreaming; for, after I had taken my tea, I leaned back, +half lying and half sitting, and looked at the ring on my finger. +By degrees I began to dream. The ring grew larger and larger, +until at last I found that I was not looking at a red stone, +but at a red sunset, which shone in at the end of a long street +near where Grannie lives. I was dressed in rags as I used to be, +and I had great holes in my shoes, at which the nasty mud came +through to my feet. I didn't use to mind it before, but now I thought +it horrid. And there was the great red sunset, with streaks of green +and gold between, standing looking at me. Why couldn't I live in +the sunset instead of in that dirt? Why was it so far away always? +Why did it never come into our wretched street? It faded away, +as the sunsets always do, and at last went out altogether. +Then a cold wind began to blow, and flutter all my rags about----" + +"That was North Wind herself," said Diamond. + +"Eh?" said Nanny, and went on with her story. + +"I turned my back to it, and wandered away. I did not know where I +was going, only it was warmer to go that way. I don't think it +was a north wind, for I found myself in the west end at last. +But it doesn't matter in a dream which wind it was." + +"I don't know that," said Diamond. "I believe North Wind can get +into our dreams--yes, and blow in them. Sometimes she has blown +me out of a dream altogether." + +"I don't know what you mean, Diamond," said Nanny. + +"Never mind," answered Diamond. "Two people can't always understand +each other. They'd both be at the back of the north wind directly, +and what would become of the other places without them?" + +"You do talk so oddly!" said Nanny. "I sometimes think they must +have been right about you." + +"What did they say about me?" asked Diamond. + +"They called you God's baby." + +"How kind of them! But I knew that." + +"Did you know what it meant, though? It meant that you were not +right in the head." + +"I feel all right," said Diamond, putting both hands to his head, +as if it had been a globe he could take off and set on again. + +"Well, as long as you are pleased I am pleased," said Nanny. + +"Thank you, Nanny. Do go on with your story. I think I like +dreams even better than fairy tales. But they must be nice ones, +like yours, you know." + +"Well, I went on, keeping my back to the wind, until I came to a fine +street on the top of a hill. How it happened I don't know, but the +front door of one of the houses was open, and not only the front door, +but the back door as well, so that I could see right through the house-- +and what do you think I saw? A garden place with green grass, +and the moon shining upon it! Think of that! There was no moon +in the street, but through the house there was the moon. I looked +and there was nobody near: I would not do any harm, and the grass +was so much nicer than the mud! But I couldn't think of going on +the grass with such dirty shoes: I kicked them off in the gutter, +and ran in on my bare feet, up the steps, and through the house, +and on to the grass; and the moment I came into the moonlight, +I began to feel better." + +"That's why North Wind blew you there," said Diamond. + +"It came of Mr. Raymond's story about Princess Daylight," returned Nanny. +"Well, I lay down upon the grass in the moonlight without thinking +how I was to get out again. Somehow the moon suited me exactly. +There was not a breath of the north wind you talk about; it was +quite gone." + +"You didn't want her any more, just then. She never goes where she's +not wanted," said Diamond. "But she blew you into the moonlight, anyhow." + +"Well, we won't dispute about it," said Nanny: "you've got +a tile loose, you know." + +"Suppose I have," returned Diamond, "don't you see it may let +in the moonlight, or the sunlight for that matter?" + +"Perhaps yes, perhaps no," said Nanny. + +"And you've got your dreams, too, Nanny." + +"Yes, but I know they're dreams." + +"So do I. But I know besides they are something more as well." + +"Oh! do you?" rejoined Nanny. "I don't." + +"All right," said Diamond. "Perhaps you will some day." + +"Perhaps I won't," said Nanny. + +Diamond held his peace, and Nanny resumed her story. + +"I lay a long time, and the moonlight got in at every tear +in my clothes, and made me feel so happy----" + +"There, I tell you!" said Diamond. + +"What do you tell me?" returned Nanny. + +"North Wind----" + +"It was the moonlight, I tell you," persisted Nanny, and again +Diamond held his peace. + +"All at once I felt that the moon was not shining so strong. +I looked up, and there was a cloud, all crapey and fluffy, +trying to drown the beautiful creature. But the moon was so round, +just like a whole plate, that the cloud couldn't stick to her. +She shook it off, and said there and shone out clearer and brighter +than ever. But up came a thicker cloud,--and "You shan't," +said the moon; and "I will," said the cloud,--but it couldn't: out +shone the moon, quite laughing at its impudence. I knew her ways, +for I've always been used to watch her. She's the only thing worth +looking at in our street at night." + +"Don't call it your street," said Diamond. "You're not going back +to it. You're coming to us, you know." + +"That's too good to be true," said Nanny. + +"There are very few things good enough to be true," said Diamond; +"but I hope this is. Too good to be true it can't be. Isn't true +good? and isn't good good? And how, then, can anything be too good +to be true? That's like old Sal--to say that." + +"Don't abuse Grannie, Diamond. She's a horrid old thing, +she and her gin bottle; but she'll repent some day, and then +you'll be glad not to have said anything against her." + +"Why?" said Diamond. + +"Because you'll be sorry for her." + +"I am sorry for her now." + +"Very well. That's right. She'll be sorry too. And there'll +be an end of it." + +"All right. You come to us," said Diamond. + +"Where was I?" said Nanny. + +"Telling me how the moon served the clouds." + +"Yes. But it wouldn't do, all of it. Up came the clouds and the clouds, +and they came faster and faster, until the moon was covered up. +You couldn't expect her to throw off a hundred of them at once-- +could you?" + +"Certainly not," said Diamond. + +"So it grew very dark; and a dog began to yelp in the house. I looked +and saw that the door to the garden was shut. Presently it was opened-- +not to let me out, but to let the dog in--yelping and bounding. +I thought if he caught sight of me, I was in for a biting first, +and the police after. So I jumped up, and ran for a little +summer-house in the corner of the garden. The dog came after me, +but I shut the door in his face. It was well it had a door-- +wasn't it?" + +"You dreamed of the door because you wanted it," said Diamond. + +"No, I didn't; it came of itself. It was there, in the true dream." + +"There--I've caught you!" said Diamond. "I knew you believed +in the dream as much as I do." + +"Oh, well, if you will lay traps for a body!" said Nanny. +"Anyhow, I was safe inside the summer-house. And what do you think?-- +There was the moon beginning to shine again--but only through +one of the panes--and that one was just the colour of the ruby. +Wasn't it funny?" + +"No, not a bit funny," said Diamond. + +"If you will be contrary!" said Nanny. + +"No, no," said Diamond; "I only meant that was the very pane I +should have expected her to shine through." + +"Oh, very well!" returned Nanny. + +What Diamond meant, I do not pretend to say. He had curious notions +about things. + +"And now," said Nanny, "I didn't know what to do, for the dog kept +barking at the door, and I couldn't get out. But the moon was so +beautiful that I couldn't keep from looking at it through the red pane. +And as I looked it got larger and larger till it filled the whole +pane and outgrew it, so that I could see it through the other panes; +and it grew till it filled them too and the whole window, so that +the summer-house was nearly as bright as day. + +"The dog stopped barking, and I heard a gentle tapping at the door, +like the wind blowing a little branch against it." + +"Just like her," said Diamond, who thought everything strange +and beautiful must be done by North Wind. + +"So I turned from the window and opened the door; and what do you +think I saw?" + +"A beautiful lady," said Diamond. + +"No--the moon itself, as big as a little house, and as round +as a ball, shining like yellow silver. It stood on the grass-- +down on the very grass: I could see nothing else for the +brightness of it: And as I stared and wondered, a door opened +in the side of it, near the ground, and a curious little old man, +with a crooked thing over his shoulder, looked out, and said: +'Come along, Nanny; my lady wants you. We're come to fetch you." +I wasn't a bit frightened. I went up to the beautiful bright thing, +and the old man held down his hand, and I took hold of it, +and gave a jump, and he gave me a lift, and I was inside the moon. +And what do you think it was like? It was such a pretty little house, +with blue windows and white curtains! At one of the windows sat +a beautiful lady, with her head leaning on her hand, looking out. +She seemed rather sad, and I was sorry for her, and stood staring +at her. + +"`You didn't think I had such a beautiful mistress as that!' +said the queer little man. `No, indeed!' I answered: `who would have +thought it?' `Ah! who indeed? But you see you don't know everything.' +The little man closed the door, and began to pull at a rope which hung +behind it with a weight at the end. After he had pulled a while, +he said--`There, that will do; we're all right now.' Then he took +me by the hand and opened a little trap in the floor, and led me +down two or three steps, and I saw like a great hole below me. +`Don't be frightened,' said the tittle man. `It's not a hole. +It's only a window. Put your face down and look through.' I did as he +told me, and there was the garden and the summer-house, far away, +lying at the bottom of the moonlight. `There!' said the little man; +`we've brought you off! Do you see the little dog barking at us +down there in the garden?' I told him I couldn't see anything +so far. `Can you see anything so small and so far off?' I said. +`Bless you, child!' said the little man; `I could pick up a needle +out of the grass if I had only a long enough arm. There's one +lying by the door of the summer-house now.' I looked at his eyes. +They were very small, but so bright that I think he saw by the light +that went out of them. Then he took me up, and up again by a little +stair in a corner of the room, and through another trapdoor, +and there was one great round window above us, and I saw the blue +sky and the clouds, and such lots of stars, all so big and shining +as hard as ever they could!" + +"The little girl-angels had been polishing them," said Diamond. + +"What nonsense you do talk!" said Nanny. + +"But my nonsense is just as good as yours, Nanny. When you have done, +I'll tell you my dream. The stars are in it--not the moon, though. +She was away somewhere. Perhaps she was gone to fetch you then. +I don't think that, though, for my dream was longer ago than yours. +She might have been to fetch some one else, though; for we can't +fancy it's only us that get such fine things done for them. +But do tell me what came next." + +Perhaps one of my child-readers may remember whether the moon came +down to fetch him or her the same night that Diamond had his dream. +I cannot tell, of course. I know she did not come to fetch me, +though I did think I could make her follow me when I was a boy-- +not a very tiny one either. + +"The little man took me all round the house, and made me look +out of every window. Oh, it was beautiful! There we were, +all up in the air, in such a nice, clean little house! `Your work +will be to keep the windows bright,' said the little man. +`You won't find it very difficult, for there ain't much dust up here. +Only, the frost settles on them sometimes, and the drops of rain +leave marks on them.' `I can easily clean them inside,' I said; +`but how am I to get the frost and rain off the outside of them?' +`Oh!' he said, `it's quite easy. There are ladders all about. +You've only got to go out at the door, and climb about. There are +a great many windows you haven't seen yet, and some of them look into +places you don't know anything about. I used to clean them myself, +but I'm getting rather old, you see. Ain't I now?' `I can't tell,' +I answered. `You see I never saw you when you were younger.' +`Never saw the man in the moon?' said he. `Not very near,' +I answered, `not to tell how young or how old he looked. I have +seen the bundle of sticks on his back.' For Jim had pointed that +out to me. Jim was very fond of looking at the man in the moon. +Poor Jim! I wonder he hasn't been to see me. I'm afraid he's +ill too." + +"I'll try to find out," said Diamond, "and let you know." + +"Thank you," said Nanny. "You and Jim ought to be friends." + +"But what did the man in the moon say, when you told him you had +seen him with the bundle of sticks on his back?" + +"He laughed. But I thought he looked offended too. His little +nose turned up sharper, and he drew the corners of his mouth down +from the tips of his ears into his neck. But he didn't look cross, +you know." + +"Didn't he say anything?" + +"Oh, yes! He said: `That's all nonsense. What you saw was my bundle +of dusters. I was going to clean the windows. It takes a good many, +you know. Really, what they do say of their superiors down there!' +`It's only because they don't know better,' I ventured to say. +`Of course, of course,' said the little man. `Nobody ever does +know better. Well, I forgive them, and that sets it all right, +I hope.' `It's very good of you,' I said. `No!' said he, `it's not +in the least good of me. I couldn't be comfortable otherwise.' +After this he said nothing for a while, and I laid myself on the floor +of his garret, and stared up and around at the great blue beautifulness. +I had forgotten him almost, when at last he said: `Ain't you done yet?' +`Done what?' I asked. `Done saying your prayers,' says he. +'I wasn't saying my prayers,' I answered. `Oh, yes, you were,' +said he, `though you didn't know it! And now I must show you +something else.' + +"He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through +a narrow passage, and through another, and another, and another. +I don't know how there could be room for so many passages in such +a little house. The heart of it must be ever so much farther from +the sides than they are from each other. How could it have an +inside that was so independent of its outside? There's the point. +It was funny--wasn't it, Diamond?" + +"No," said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much +the sort of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked +himself and only added, "All right. I don't see it. I don't see +why the inside should depend on the outside. It ain't so with +the crabs. They creep out of their outsides and make new ones. +Mr. Raymond told me so." + +"I don't see what that has got to do with it," said Nanny. + +"Then go on with your story, please," said Diamond. "What did +you come to, after going through all those winding passages into +the heart of the moon?" + +"I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long +and narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners." + +"That's worth knowing," remarked Diamond. "For who knows how soon +he may have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come +to at last?" + +"We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. +The little man told me to put my ear against it. I did so, +and heard a noise something like the purring of a cat, only not +so loud, and much sweeter. `What is it?' I asked. `Don't you +know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,' I answered. +`Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never heard bees, +and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's bees,' +he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers. +`But where are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees +gather their honey from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. +`Do let me see them,' I said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. +`I have no business with them. I don't understand them. +Besides, they are so bright that if one were to fly into your eye, +it would blind you altogether.' `Then you have seen them?' +`Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't quite know: +they are so very bright--like buttons of lightning. Now I've +showed you all I can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' +I followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from +the roof, and gave me some bread and honey. + +"The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning +on her hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest +with white cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out +of it too, but I could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, +and very white, and very still, and her hand was as white as +the forehead that leaned on it. I did not see her whole face-- +only the side of it, for she never moved to turn it full upon me, +or even to look at me. + +"How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. +The little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, +and a string there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. +I was thinking with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting +me to go out and clean the windows, and I didn't fancy the job. +At last he came up to me with a great armful of dusters. `It's time +you set about the windows,' he said; `for there's rain coming, +and if they're quite clean before, then the rain can't spoil them.' +I got up at once. `You needn't be afraid,' he said. `You won't +tumble off. Only you must be careful. Always hold on with one hand +while you rub with the other.' As he spoke, he opened the door. +I started back in a terrible fright, for there was nothing but blue +air to be seen under me, like a great water without a bottom at all. +But what must be must, and to live up here was so much nicer +than down in the mud with holes in my shoes, that I never thought +of not doing as I was told. The little man showed me how and +where to lay hold while I put my foot round the edge of the door +on to the first round of a ladder. `Once you're up,' he said, +`you'll see how you have to go well enough.' I did as he told me, +and crept out very carefully. Then the little man handed me the +bundle of dusters, saying, `I always carry them on my reaping hook, +but I don't think you could manage it properly. You shall have +it if you like.' I wouldn't take it, however, for it looked +dangerous. + +"I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the +top of the moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars +were all over my head, so bright and so near that I could almost +have laid hold of them. The round ball to which I clung went +bobbing and floating away through the dark blue above and below +and on every side. It was so beautiful that all fear left me, +and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window after window. +At length I came to a very little one, in at which I peeped. +There was the room with the box of bees in it! I laid my ear +to the window, and heard the musical hum quite distinctly. +A great longing to see them came upon me, and I opened the window +and crept in. The little box had a door like a closet. I opened it-- +the tiniest crack--when out came the light with such a sting that I +closed it again in terror--not, however, before three bees had shot +out into the room, where they darted about like flashes of lightning. +Terribly frightened, I tried to get out of the window again, but I +could not: there was no way to the outside of the moon but through +the door; and that was in the room where the lady sat. No sooner +had I reached the room, than the three bees, which had followed me, +flew at once to the lady, and settled upon her hair. Then first +I saw her move. She started, put up her hand, and caught them; +then rose and, having held them into the flame of the lamp one after +the other, turned to me. Her face was not so sad now as stern. +It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me into trouble,' +she said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is all I can +do to manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great loss, +and there will be a storm.' As she spoke, the clouds had gathered +all about us. I could see them come crowding up white about +the windows. `I am sorry to find,' said the lady, `that you are +not to be trusted. You must go home again--you won't do for us.' +Then came a great clap of thunder, and the moon rocked and swayed. +All grew dark about me, and I fell on the floor and lay half-stunned. +I could hear everything but could see nothing. `Shall I throw her +out of the door, my lady?' said the little man. `No,' she answered; +`she's not quite bad enough for that. I don't think there's much +harm in her; only she'll never do for us. She would make dreadful +mischief up here. She's only fit for the mud. It's a great pity. +I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly +afraid she has stolen it.' The little man caught hold of my hand, +and I felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was +true about it, but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. +Other things began to come into my head. Somebody else had a hold +of me. The little man wasn't there. I opened my eyes at last, +and saw the nurse. I had cried out in my sleep, and she had come +and waked me. But, Diamond, for all it was only a dream, I cannot +help being ashamed of myself yet for opening the lady's box of +bees." + +"You woudn't do it again--would you--if she were to take you back?" +said Diamond. + +"No. I don't think anything would ever make me do it again. +But where's the good? I shall never have the chance." + +"I don't know that," said Diamond. + +"You silly baby! It was only a dream," said Nanny. + +"I know that, Nanny, dear. But how can you tell you mayn't dream +it again?" + +"That's not a bit likely." + +"I don't know that," said Diamond. + +"You're always saying that," said Nanny. "I don't like it." + +"Then I won't say it again--if I don't forget." said Diamond. +"But it was such a beautiful dream!--wasn't it, Nanny? What a pity +you opened that door and let the bees out! You might have had +such a long dream, and such nice talks with the moon-lady. Do try +to go again, Nanny. I do so want to hear more." + +But now the nurse came and told him it was time to go; and Diamond went, +saying to himself, "I can't help thinking that North Wind had something +to do with that dream. It would be tiresome to lie there all day +and all night too--without dreaming. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, +the moon might have carried her to the back of the north wind-- +who knows?" + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW + + +IT WAS a great delight to Diamond when at length Nanny was well +enough to leave the hospital and go home to their house. She was not +very strong yet, but Diamond's mother was very considerate of her, +and took care that she should have nothing to do she was not quite +fit for. If Nanny had been taken straight from the street, it is very +probable she would not have been so pleasant in a decent household, +or so easy to teach; but after the refining influences of her illness +and the kind treatment she had had in the hospital, she moved about +the house just like some rather sad pleasure haunting the mind. +As she got better, and the colour came back to her cheeks, +her step grew lighter and quicker, her smile shone out more readily, +and it became certain that she would soon be a treasure of help. +It was great fun to see Diamond teaching her how to hold the baby, +and wash and dress him, and often they laughed together over +her awkwardness. But she had not many such lessons before she was +able to perform those duties quite as well as Diamond himself. + +Things however did not go well with Joseph from the very arrival of Ruby. +It almost seemed as if the red beast had brought ill luck with him. +The fares were fewer, and the pay less. Ruby's services did indeed +make the week's income at first a little beyond what it used to be, +but then there were two more to feed. After the first month he fell lame, +and for the whole of the next Joseph dared not attempt to work him. +I cannot say that he never grumbled, for his own health was far +from what it had been; but I can say that he tried to do his best. +During all that month, they lived on very short commons indeed, +seldom tasting meat except on Sundays, and poor old Diamond, +who worked hardest of all, not even then--so that at the end of it +he was as thin as a clothes-horse, while Ruby was as plump and sleek +as a bishop's cob. + +Nor was it much better after Ruby was able to work again, for it +was a season of great depression in business, and that is very soon +felt amongst the cabmen. City men look more after their shillings, +and their wives and daughters have less to spend. It was besides +a wet autumn, and bread rose greatly in price. When I add to this +that Diamond's mother was but poorly, for a new baby was coming, +you will see that these were not very jolly times for our friends +in the mews. + +Notwithstanding the depressing influences around him, Joseph was able +to keep a little hope alive in his heart; and when he came home +at night, would get Diamond to read to him, and would also make +Nanny produce her book that he might see how she was getting on. +For Diamond had taken her education in hand, and as she was a +clever child, she was very soon able to put letters and words together. + +Thus the three months passed away, but Mr. Raymond did not return. +Joseph had been looking anxiously for him, chiefly with the desire +of getting rid of Ruby--not that he was absolutely of no use to him, +but that he was a constant weight upon his mind. Indeed, as far +as provision went, he was rather worse off with Ruby and Nanny than +he had been before, but on the other hand, Nanny was a great help +in the house, and it was a comfort to him to think that when the new +baby did come, Nanny would be with his wife. + +Of God's gifts a baby is of the greatest; therefore it is no +wonder that when this one came, she was as heartily welcomed +by the little household as if she had brought plenty with her. +Of course she made a great difference in the work to be done-- +far more difference than her size warranted, but Nanny was no end +of help, and Diamond was as much of a sunbeam as ever, and began +to sing to the new baby the first moment he got her in his arms. +But he did not sing the same songs to her that he had sung to +his brother, for, he said, she was a new baby and must have new songs; +and besides, she was a sister-baby and not a brother-baby, and of +course would not like the same kind of songs. Where the difference +in his songs lay, however, I do not pretend to be able to point out. +One thing I am sure of, that they not only had no small share +in the education of the little girl, but helped the whole family +a great deal more than they were aware. + +How they managed to get through the long dreary expensive winter, +I can hardly say. Sometimes things were better, sometimes worse. +But at last the spring came, and the winter was over and gone, +and that was much. Still, Mr. Raymond did not return, and although +the mother would have been able to manage without Nanny now, +they could not look for a place for her so long as they had Ruby; +and they were not altogether sorry for this. One week at last was +worse than they had yet had. They were almost without bread before +it was over. But the sadder he saw his father and mother looking, +the more Diamond set himself to sing to the two babies. + +One thing which had increased their expenses was that they had been +forced to hire another little room for Nanny. When the second +baby came, Diamond gave up his room that Nanny might be at hand +to help his mother, and went to hers, which, although a fine place +to what she had been accustomed to, was not very nice in his eyes. +He did not mind the change though, for was not his mother the more +comfortable for it? And was not Nanny more comfortable too? +And indeed was not Diamond himself more comfortable that other people +were more comfortable? And if there was more comfort every way, +the change was a happy one. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +DIAMOND AND RUBY + + +IT WAS Friday night, and Diamond, like the rest of the household, +had had very little to eat that day. The mother would always pay +the week's rent before she laid out anything even on food. His father +had been very gloomy--so gloomy that he had actually been cross +to his wife. It is a strange thing how pain of seeing the suffering +of those we love will sometimes make us add to their suffering +by being cross with them. This comes of not having faith enough +in God, and shows how necessary this faith is, for when we lose it, +we lose even the kindness which alone can soothe the suffering. +Diamond in consequence had gone to bed very quiet and thoughtful-- +a little troubled indeed. + +It had been a very stormy winter. and even now that the spring +had come, the north wind often blew. When Diamond went to his bed, +which was in a tiny room in the roof, he heard it like the +sea moaning; and when he fell asleep he still heard the moaning. +All at once he said to himself, "Am I awake, or am I asleep?" +But he had no time to answer the question, for there was North +Wind calling him. His heart beat very fast, it was such a long +time since he had heard that voice. He jumped out of bed, +and looked everywhere, but could not see her. "Diamond, come here," +she said again and again; but where the here was he could not tell. +To be sure the room was all but quite dark, and she might be close +beside him. + +"Dear North Wind," said Diamond, "I want so much to go to you, +but I can't tell where." + +"Come here, Diamond," was all her answer. + +Diamond opened the door, and went out of the room, and down the stair +and into the yard. His little heart was in a flutter, for he had +long given up all thought of seeing her again. Neither now was he +to see her. When he got out, a great puff of wind came against him, +and in obedience to it he turned his back, and went as it blew. +It blew him right up to the stable-door, and went on blowing. + +"She wants me to go into the stable," said Diamond to himself. +"but the door is locked." + +He knew where the key was, in a certain hole in the wall--far too +high for him to get at. He ran to the place, however: just as he +reached it there came a wild blast, and down fell the key clanging +on the stones at his feet. He picked it up, and ran back and opened +the stable-door, and went in. And what do you think he saw? + +A little light came through the dusty window from a gas-lamp, +sufficient to show him Diamond and Ruby with their two heads up, +looking at each other across the partition of their stalls. The light +showed the white mark on Diamond's forehead, but Ruby's eye shone +so bright, that he thought more light came out of it than went in. +This is what he saw. + +But what do you think he heard? + +He heard the two horses talking to each other--in a strange language, +which yet, somehow or other, he could understand, and turn over in +his mind in English. The first words he heard were from Diamond, +who apparently had been already quarrelling with Ruby. + +"Look how fat you are Ruby!" said old Diamond. "You are so plump +and your skin shines so, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." + +"There's no harm in being fat," said Ruby in a deprecating tone. +"No, nor in being sleek. I may as well shine as not." + +"No harm?" retorted Diamond. "Is it no harm to go eating up all +poor master's oats, and taking up so much of his time grooming you, +when you only work six hours--no, not six hours a day, and, as I hear, +get along no faster than a big dray-horse with two tons behind him?-- +So they tell me." + +"Your master's not mine," said Ruby. "I must attend to my own +master's interests, and eat all that is given me, and be sleek +and fat as I can, and go no faster than I need." + +"Now really if the rest of the horses weren't all asleep, poor things-- +they work till they're tired--I do believe they would get up and kick +you out of the stable. You make me ashamed of being a horse. +You dare to say my master ain't your master! That's your gratitude +for the way he feeds you and spares you! Pray where would your +carcass be if it weren't for him?" + +"He doesn't do it for my sake. If I were his own horse, he would +work me as hard as he does you." + +"And I'm proud to be so worked. I wouldn't be as fat as you-- +not for all you're worth. You're a disgrace to the stable. Look at +the horse next you. He's something like a horse--all skin and bone. +And his master ain't over kind to him either. He put a stinging lash +on his whip last week. But that old horse knows he's got the wife +and children to keep--as well as his drunken master--and he works +like a horse. I daresay he grudges his master the beer he drinks, +but I don't believe he grudges anything else." + +"Well, I don't grudge yours what he gets by me," said Ruby. + +"Gets!" retorted Diamond. "What he gets isn't worth grudging. +It comes to next to nothing--what with your fat and shine. + +"Well, at least you ought to be thankful you're the better for it. +You get a two hours' rest a day out of it." + +"I thank my master for that--not you, you lazy fellow! You go +along like a buttock of beef upon castors--you do." + +"Ain't you afraid I'll kick, if you go on like that, Diamond?" + +"Kick! You couldn't kick if you tried. You might heave your rump +up half a foot, but for lashing out--oho! If you did, you'd be +down on your belly before you could get your legs under you again. +It's my belief, once out, they'd stick out for ever. Talk of kicking! +Why don't you put one foot before the other now and then when you're +in the cab? The abuse master gets for your sake is quite shameful. +No decent horse would bring it on him. Depend upon it, Ruby, no cabman +likes to be abused any more than his fare. But his fares, at least +when you are between the shafts, are very much to be excused. +Indeed they are." + +"Well, you see, Diamond, I don't want to go lame again." + +"I don't believe you were so very lame after all--there!" + +"Oh, but I was." + +"Then I believe it was all your own fault. I'm not lame. +I never was lame in all my life. You don't take care of your legs. +You never lay them down at night. There you are with your huge carcass +crushing down your poor legs all night long. You don't even care +for your own legs--so long as you can eat, eat, and sleep, sleep. +You a horse indeed!" + +"But I tell you I was lame." + +"I'm not denying there was a puffy look about your off-pastern. +But my belief is, it wasn't even grease--it was fat." + +"I tell you I put my foot on one of those horrid stones they make +the roads with, and it gave my ankle such a twist." + +"Ankle indeed! Why should you ape your betters? Horses ain't +got any ankles: they're only pasterns. And so long as you +don't lift your feet better, but fall asleep between every step, +you'll run a good chance of laming all your ankles as you call them, +one after another. It's not your lively horse that comes to grief +in that way. I tell you I believe it wasn't much, and if it was, +it was your own fault. There! I've done. I'm going to sleep. +I'll try to think as well of you as I can. If you would but step out +a bit and run off a little of your fat!" Here Diamond began to double +up his knees; but Ruby spoke again, and, as young Diamond thought, +in a rather different tone. + +"I say, Diamond, I can't bear to have an honest old horse like you +think of me like that. I will tell you the truth: it was my own +fault that I fell lame." + +"I told you so," returned the other, tumbling against the partition +as he rolled over on his side to give his legs every possible +privilege in their narrow circumstances. + +"I meant to do it, Diamond." + +At the words, the old horse arose with a scramble like thunder, +shot his angry head and glaring eye over into Ruby's stall, +and said-- + +"Keep out of my way, you unworthy wretch, or I'll bite you. +You a horse! Why did you do that?" + +"Because I wanted to grow fat." + +"You grease-tub! Oh! my teeth and tail! I thought you were a humbug! +Why did you want to get fat? There's no truth to be got out of you +but by cross-questioning. You ain't fit to be a horse." + +"Because once I am fat, my nature is to keep fat for a long time; +and I didn't know when master might come home and want to see me." + +"You conceited, good-for-nothing brute! You're only fit for the +knacker's yard. You wanted to look handsome, did you? Hold your tongue, +or I'll break my halter and be at you--with your handsome fat!" + +"Never mind, Diamond. You're a good horse. You can't hurt me." + +"Can't hurt you! Just let me once try." + +"No, you can't." + +"Why then?" + +"Because I'm an angel." + +"What's that?" + +"Of course you don't know." + +"Indeed I don't." + +"I know you don't. An ignorant, rude old human horse, like you, +couldn't know it. But there's young Diamond listening to all +we're saying; and he knows well enough there are horses in heaven +for angels to ride upon, as well as other animals, lions and eagles +and bulls, in more important situations. The horses the angels ride, +must be angel-horses, else the angels couldn't ride upon them. +Well, I'm one of them." + +"You ain't." + +"Did you ever know a horse tell a lie?" + +"Never before. But you've confessed to shamming lame." + +"Nothing of the sort. It was necessary I should grow fat, +and necessary that good Joseph, your master, should grow lean. +I could have pretended to be lame, but that no horse, least of all an +angel-horse would do. So I must be lame, and so I sprained my ankle-- +for the angel-horses have ankles--they don't talk horse-slang up there-- +and it hurt me very much, I assure you, Diamond, though you mayn't +be good enough to be able to believe it." + +Old Diamond made no reply. He had lain down again, and a sleepy snort, +very like a snore, revealed that, if he was not already asleep, +he was past understanding a word that Ruby was saying. When young +Diamond found this, he thought he might venture to take up the dropt +shuttlecock of the conversation. + +"I'm good enough to believe it, Ruby," he said. + +But Ruby never turned his head, or took any notice of him. +I suppose he did not understand more of English than just what +the coachman and stableman were in the habit of addressing +him with. Finding, however, that his companion made no reply, +he shot his head over the partition and looking down at him said-- + +"You just wait till to-morrow, and you'll see whether I'm speaking +the truth or not.--I declare the old horse is fast asleep!-- +Diamond!--No I won't." + +Ruby turned away, and began pulling at his hayrack in silence. + +Diamond gave a shiver, and looking round saw that the door of the +stable was open. He began to feel as if he had been dreaming, +and after a glance about the stable to see if North Wind was +anywhere visible, he thought he had better go back to bed. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS + + +THE next morning, Diamond's mother said to his father, "I'm not +quite comfortable about that child again." + +"Which child, Martha?" asked Joseph. "You've got a choice now." + +"Well, Diamond I mean. I'm afraid he's getting into his queer +ways again. He's been at his old trick of walking in his sleep. +I saw him run up the stair in the middle of the night." + +"Didn't you go after him, wife?" + +"Of course I did--and found him fast asleep in his bed. It's because +he's had so little meat for the last six weeks, I'm afraid." + +"It may be that. I'm very sorry. But if it don't please God +to send us enough, what am I to do, wife?" + +"You can't help it, I know, my dear good man," returned Martha. +"And after all I don't know. I don't see why he shouldn't get on +as well as the rest of us. There I'm nursing baby all this time, +and I get along pretty well. I'm sure, to hear the little man singing, +you wouldn't think there was much amiss with him." + +For at that moment Diamond was singing like a lark in the clouds. +He had the new baby in his arms, while his mother was dressing herself. +Joseph was sitting at his breakfast--a little weak tea, dry bread, +and very dubious butter--which Nanny had set for him, and which he +was enjoying because he was hungry. He had groomed both horses, +and had got old Diamond harnessed ready to put to. + +"Think of a fat angel, Dulcimer!" said Diamond. + +The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading +his Bible, had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty +that ever after he called his sister Dulcimer! + +"Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!" he repeated; "for Ruby's +an angel of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat +on purpose." + +"What purpose, Diamond?" asked his father. + +"Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his +master comes," answered Diamond.--"What do you think, Dulcimer? +It must be for some good, for Ruby's an angel." + +"I wish I were rid of him, anyhow," said his father; "for he weighs +heavy on my mind." + +"No wonder, father: he's so fat," said Diamond. "But you needn't +be afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you +had him." + +"Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. +It was too bad to leave him on my hands this way." + +"Perhaps he couldn't help it," suggested Diamond. "I daresay he +has some good reason for it." + +"So I should have said," returned his father, "if he had not driven +such a hard bargain with me at first." + +"But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband," said his wife. +"Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of +the bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon." + +"I'm afraid not: he's a hard man," said Joseph, as he rose and went +to get his cab out. + +Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches +of everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something +like what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it. + + + Where did you come from, baby dear? + Out of the everywhere into here. + + Where did you get your eyes so blue? + Out of the sky as I came through. + + What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? + Some of the starry spikes left in. + + Where did you get that little tear? + I found it waiting when I got here. + + What makes your forehead so smooth and high? + A soft hand stroked it as I went by. + + What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? + I saw something better than any one knows. + + Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? + Three angels gave me at once a kiss. + + Where did you get this pearly ear? + God spoke, and it came out to hear. + + Where did you get those arms and hands? + Love made itself into hooks and bands. + + Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? + From the same box as the cherubs' wings. + + How did they all just come to be you? + God thought about me, and so I grew. + + But how did you come to us, you dear? + God thought about you, and so I am here. + +"You never made that song, Diamond," said his mother. + +"No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don't. That would be to take it +from somebody else. But it's mine for all that." + +"What makes it yours?" + +"I love it so." + +"Does loving a thing make it yours?" + +"I think so, mother--at least more than anything else can. If I didn't +love baby (which couldn't be, you know) she wouldn't be mine a bit. +But I do love baby, and baby is my very own Dulcimer." + +"The baby's mine, Diamond." + +"That makes her the more mine, mother." + +"How do you make that out?" + +"Because you're mine, mother." + +"Is that because you love me?" + +"Yes, just because. Love makes the only myness," said Diamond. + +When his father came home to have his dinner, and change Diamond +for Ruby, they saw him look very sad, and he told them he had not +had a fare worth mentioning the whole morning. + +"We shall all have to go to the workhouse, wife," he said. + +"It would be better to go to the back of the north wind," +said Diamond, dreamily, not intending to say it aloud. + +"So +it would," answered his father. "But how are we to get there, Diamond?" + +"We must wait till we're taken," returned Diamond. + +Before his father could speak again, a knock came to the door, +and in walked Mr. Raymond with a smile on his face. Joseph got up +and received him respectfully, but not very cordially. Martha set +a chair for him, but he would not sit down. + +"You are not very glad to see me," he said to Joseph. "You don't +want to part with the old horse." + +"Indeed, sir, you are mistaken there. What with anxiety about him, +and bad luck, I've wished I were rid of him a thousand times. +It was only to be for three months, and here it's eight or nine." + +"I'm sorry to hear such a statement," said Mr. Raymond. "Hasn't he +been of service to you?" + +"Not much, not with his lameness" + +"Ah!" said Mr. Raymond, hastily--"you've been laming him--have you? +That accounts for it. I see, I see." + +"It wasn't my fault, and he's all right now. I don't know +how it happened, but" + +"He did it on purpose," said Diamond. "He put his foot on a stone +just to twist his ankle." + +"How do you know that, Diamond?" said his father, turning to him. +"I never said so, for I could not think how it came." + +"I heard it--in the stable," answered Diamond. + +"Let's have a look at him," said Mr. Raymond. + +"If you'll step into the yard," said Joseph, "I'll bring him out." + +They went, and Joseph, having first taken off his harness, +walked Ruby into the middle of the yard. + +"Why," said Mr. Raymond, "you've not been using him well." + +"I don't know what you mean by that, sir. I didn't expect to hear +that from you. He's sound in wind and limb--as sound as a barrel." + +"And as big, you might add. Why, he's as fat as a pig! You don't +call that good usage!" + +Joseph was too angry to make any answer. + +"You've not worked him enough, I say. That's not making good use +of him. That's not doing as you'd be done by." + +"I shouldn't be sorry if I was served the same, sir." + +"He's too fat, I say." + +"There was a whole month I couldn't work him at all, and he did +nothing but eat his head off. He's an awful eater. I've taken +the best part of six hours a day out of him since, but I'm always +afraid of his coming to grief again, and so I couldn't make the most +even of that. I declare to you, sir, when he's between the shafts, +I sit on the box as miserable as if I'd stolen him. He looks all +the time as if he was a bottling up of complaints to make of me +the minute he set eyes on you again. There! look at him now, +squinting round at me with one eye! I declare to you, on my word, +I haven't laid the whip on him more than three times." + +"I'm glad to hear it. He never did want the whip." + +"I didn't say that, sir. If ever a horse wanted the whip, he do. +He's brought me to beggary almost with his snail's pace. I'm very +glad you've come to rid me of him." + +"I don't know that," said Mr. Raymond. "Suppose I were to ask you +to buy him of me--cheap." + +"I wouldn't have him in a present, sir. I don't like him. +And I wouldn't drive a horse that I didn't like--no, not for gold. +It can't come to good where there's no love between 'em." + +"Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair +they'd make." + +Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond. + +When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could +hardly keep his countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. +Beside the great, red, round barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, +Diamond looked like a clothes-horse with a skin thrown over it. +There was hardly a spot of him where you could not descry some +sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and grim and weary he stood, +kissing his master, and heeding no one else. + +"You haven't been using him well," said Mr. Raymond. + +"I must say," returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse's neck, +"that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse +is worth three of the other now." + +"I don't think so. I think they make a very nice pair. +If the one's too fat, the other's too lean--so that's all right. +And if you won't buy my Ruby, I must buy your Diamond." + +"Thank you, sir," said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks. + +"You don't seem to like the proposal," said Mr. Raymond. + +"I don't," returned Joseph. "I wouldn't part with my old Diamond +for his skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones." + +"Who said anything about parting with him?" + +"You did now, sir." + +"No; I didn't. I only spoke of buying him to make a pair with Ruby. +We could pare Ruby and patch Diamond a bit. And for height, they are +as near a match as I care about. Of course you would be the coachman-- +if only you would consent to be reconciled to Ruby." + +Joseph stood bewildered, unable to answer. + +"I've bought a small place in Kent," continued Mr. Raymond, "and I +must have a pair to my carriage, for the roads are hilly thereabouts. +I don't want to make a show with a pair of high-steppers. I think +these will just do. Suppose, for a week or two, you set yourself +to take Ruby down and bring Diamond up. If we could only lay a pipe +from Ruby's sides into Diamond's, it would be the work of a moment. +But I fear that wouldn't answer." + +A strong inclination to laugh intruded upon Joseph's inclination +to cry, and made speech still harder than before. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said at length. "I've been so miserable, +and for so long, that I never thought you was only a chaffing of me +when you said I hadn't used the horses well. I did grumble at you, +sir, many's the time in my trouble; but whenever I said anything, +my little Diamond would look at me with a smile, as much as to say: +"I know him better than you, father;" and upon my word, I always +thought the boy must be right." + +"Will you sell me old Diamond, then?" + +"I will, sir, on one condition--that if ever you want to part +with him or me, you give me the option of buying him. I could +not part with him, sir. As to who calls him his, that's nothing; +for, as Diamond says, it's only loving a thing that can make it yours-- +and I do love old Diamond, sir, dearly." + +"Well, there's a cheque for twenty pounds, which I wrote to offer +you for him, in case I should find you had done the handsome thing +by Ruby. Will that be enough?" + +"It's too much, sir. His body ain't worth it--shoes and all. +It's only his heart, sir--that's worth millions--but his heart'll be +mine all the same--so it's too much, sir." + +"I don't think so. It won't be, at least, by the time we've got him +fed up again. You take it and welcome. Just go on with your cabbing +for another month, only take it out of Ruby and let Diamond rest; +and by that time I shall be ready for you to go down into the country." + +"Thank you, sir. thank you. Diamond set you down for a friend, +sir, the moment he saw you. I do believe that child of mine +knows more than other people." + +"I think so, too," said Mr. Raymond as he walked away. + +He had meant to test Joseph when he made the bargain about Ruby, +but had no intention of so greatly prolonging the trial. He had been +taken ill in Switzerland, and had been quite unable to return sooner. +He went away now highly gratified at finding that he had stood the test, +and was a true man. + +Joseph rushed in to his wife who had been standing at the window +anxiously waiting the result of the long colloquy. When she +heard that the horses were to go together in double harness, +she burst forth into an immoderate fit of laughter. Diamond came +up with the baby in his arms and made big anxious eyes at her, saying-- + +"What is the matter with you, mother dear? Do cry a little. +It will do you good. When father takes ever so small a drop of spirits, +he puts water to it." + +"You silly darling!" said his mother; "how could I but laugh at +the notion of that great fat Ruby going side by side with our poor +old Diamond?" + +"But why not, mother? With a month's oats, and nothing to do, +Diamond'll be nearer Ruby's size than you will father's. I think +it's very good for different sorts to go together. Now Ruby will +have a chance of teaching Diamond better manners." + +"How dare you say such a thing, Diamond?" said his father, angrily. +"To compare the two for manners, there's no comparison possible. +Our Diamond's a gentleman." + +"I don't mean to say he isn't, father; for I daresay some +gentlemen judge their neighbours unjustly. That's all I mean. +Diamond shouldn't have thought such bad things of Ruby. He didn't +try to make the best of him." + +"How do you know that, pray?" + +"I heard them talking about it one night." + +"Who?" + +"Why Diamond and Ruby. Ruby's an angel." + +Joseph stared and said no more. For all his new gladness, +he was very gloomy as he re-harnessed the angel, for he thought +his darling Diamond was going out of his mind. + +He could not help thinking rather differently, however, when he found +the change that had come over Ruby. Considering his fat, he exerted +himself amazingly, and got over the ground with incredible speed. +So willing, even anxious, was he to go now, that Joseph had to hold +him quite tight. + +Then as he laughed at his own fancies, a new fear came upon him lest +the horse should break his wind, and Mr. Raymond have good cause +to think he had not been using him well. He might even suppose +that he had taken advantage of his new instructions, to let out +upon the horse some of his pent-up dislike; whereas in truth, +it had so utterly vanished that he felt as if Ruby, too, had been +his friend all the time. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +IN THE COUNTRY + + +BEFORE the end of the month, Ruby had got respectably thin, +and Diamond respectably stout. They really began to look fit +for double harness. + +Joseph and his wife got their affairs in order, and everything ready +for migrating at the shortest notice; and they felt so peaceful +and happy that they judged all the trouble they had gone through +well worth enduring. As for Nanny, she had been so happy ever +since she left the hospital, that she expected nothing better, +and saw nothing attractive in the notion of the country. +At the same time, she had not the least idea of what the word +country meant, for she had never seen anything about her but streets +and gas-lamps. Besides, she was more attached to Jim than to Diamond: +Jim was a reasonable being, Diamond in her eyes at best only an amiable, +over-grown baby, whom no amount of expostulation would ever bring +to talk sense, not to say think it. Now that she could manage +the baby as well as he, she judged herself altogether his superior. +Towards his father and mother, she was all they could wish. + +Diamond had taken a great deal of pains and trouble to find Jim, +and had at last succeeded through the help of the tall policeman, +who was glad to renew his acquaintance with the strange child. +Jim had moved his quarters, and had not heard of Nanny's illness till +some time after she was taken to the hospital, where he was too shy +to go and inquire about her. But when at length she went to live +with Diamond's family, Jim was willing enough to go and see her. +It was after one of his visits, during which they had been talking +of her new prospects, that Nanny expressed to Diamond her opinion of +the country. + +"There ain't nothing in it but the sun and moon, Diamond." + +"There's trees and flowers," said Diamond. + +"Well, they ain't no count," returned Nanny. + +"Ain't they? They're so beautiful, they make you happy to look +at them." + +"That's because you're such a silly." + +Diamond smiled with a far-away look, as if he were gazing +through clouds of green leaves and the vision contented him. +But he was thinking with himself what more he could do for Nanny; +and that same evening he went to find Mr. Raymond, for he had heard +that he had returned to town. + +"Ah! how do you do, Diamond?" said Mr. Raymond; "I am glad to see you." + +And he was indeed, for he had grown very fond of him. His opinion +of him was very different from Nanny's. + +"What do you want now, my child?" he asked. + +"I'm always wanting something, sir," answered Diamond. + +"Well, that's quite right, so long as what you want is right. +Everybody is always wanting something; only we don't mention it in +the right place often enough. What is it now?" + +"There's a friend of Nanny's, a lame boy, called Jim." + +"I've heard of him," said Mr. Raymond. "Well?" + +"Nanny doesn't care much about going to the country, sir." + +"Well, what has that to do with Jim?" + +"You couldn't find a corner for Jim to work in--could you, sir?" + +"I don't know that I couldn't. That is, if you can show good reason +for it." + +"He's a good boy, sir." + +"Well, so much the better for him." + +"I know he can shine boots, sir." + +"So much the better for us." + +"You want your boots shined in the country--don't you, sir?" + +"Yes, to be sure." + +"It wouldn't be nice to walk over the flowers with dirty boots-- +would it, sir?" + +"No, indeed." + +"They wouldn't like it--would they?" + +"No, they wouldn't." + +"Then Nanny would be better pleased to go, sir." + +"If the flowers didn't like dirty boots to walk over them, +Nanny wouldn't mind going to the country? Is that it? I don't +quite see it." + +"No, sir; I didn't mean that. I meant, if you would take Jim with +you to clean your boots, and do odd jobs, you know, sir, then Nanny +would like it better. She's so fond of Jim!" + +"Now you come to the point, Diamond. I see what you mean, exactly. +I will turn it over in my mind. Could you bring Jim to see me?" + +"I'll try, sir. But they don't mind me much. They think I'm silly," +added Diamond, with one of his sweetest smiles. + +What Mr. Raymond thought, I dare hardly attempt to put down here. +But one part of it was, that the highest wisdom must ever appear folly +to those who do not possess it. + +"I think he would come though--after dark, you know," Diamond continued. +"He does well at shining boots. People's kind to lame boys, +you know, sir. But after dark, there ain't so much doing." + +Diamond succeeded in bringing Jim to Mr. Raymond, and the consequence +was that he resolved to give the boy a chance. He provided +new clothes for both him and Nanny; and upon a certain day, +Joseph took his wife and three children, and Nanny and Jim, +by train to a certain station in the county of Kent, where they +found a cart waiting to carry them and their luggage to The Mound, +which was the name of Mr. Raymond's new residence. I will not +describe the varied feelings of the party as they went, or when +they arrived. All I will say is, that Diamond, who is my only care, +was full of quiet delight--a gladness too deep to talk about. + +Joseph returned to town the same night, and the next morning drove +Ruby and Diamond down, with the carriage behind them, and Mr. Raymond +and a lady in the carriage. For Mr. Raymond was an old bachelor +no longer: he was bringing his wife with him to live at The Mound. +The moment Nanny saw her, she recognised her as the lady who had lent +her the ruby-ring. That ring had been given her by Mr. Raymond. + +The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not +a great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn, +and the most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves, +because if they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun +for them. So they have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed +again by the time the trees are dressed. But there was plenty of +the loveliest grass and daisies about the house, and Diamond's chief +pleasure seemed to be to lie amongst them, and breathe the pure air. +But all the time, he was dreaming of the country at the back of the +north wind, and trying to recall the songs the river used to sing. +For this was more like being at the back of the north wind than +anything he had known since he left it. Sometimes he would have +his little brother, sometimes his little sister, and sometimes +both of them in the grass with him, and then he felt just like +a cat with her first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr-- +all he could do was to sing. + +These were very different times from those when he used to drive +the cab, but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle. +He did not do so much for his mother now, because Nanny occupied +his former place; but he helped his father still, both in the stable +and the harness-room, and generally went with him on the box that he +might learn to drive a pair, and be ready to open the carriage-door. +Mr. Raymond advised his father to give him plenty of liberty. + +"A boy like that," he said, "ought not to be pushed." + +Joseph assented heartily, smiling to himself at the idea of +pushing Diamond. After doing everything that fell to his share, +the boy had a wealth of time at his disposal. And a happy, +sometimes a merry time it was. Only for two months or so, +he neither saw nor heard anything of North Wind. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +I MAKE DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE + + +MR. RAYMOND'S house was called The Mound, because it stood upon +a little steep knoll, so smooth and symmetrical that it showed +itself at once to be artificial. It had, beyond doubt, been built +for Queen Elizabeth as a hunting tower--a place, namely, from the +top of which you could see the country for miles on all sides, +and so be able to follow with your eyes the flying deer and the +pursuing hounds and horsemen. The mound had been cast up to give +a good basement-advantage over the neighbouring heights and woods. +There was a great quarry-hole not far off, brim-full of water, +from which, as the current legend stated, the materials forming +the heart of the mound--a kind of stone unfit for building-- +had been dug. The house itself was of brick, and they said the +foundations were first laid in the natural level, and then the +stones and earth of the mound were heaped about and between them, +so that its great height should be well buttressed. + +Joseph and his wife lived in a little cottage a short way from the house. +It was a real cottage, with a roof of thick thatch, which, in June +and July, the wind sprinkled with the red and white petals it shook +from the loose topmost sprays of the rose-trees climbing the walls. +At first Diamond had a nest under this thatch--a pretty little room +with white muslin curtains, but afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Raymond +wanted to have him for a page in the house, and his father and mother +were quite pleased to have him employed without his leaving them. +So he was dressed in a suit of blue, from which his pale face +and fair hair came out like the loveliest blossom, and took up his +abode in the house. + +"Would you be afraid to sleep alone, Diamond?" asked his mistress. + +"I don't know what you mean, ma'am," said Diamond. "I never was +afraid of anything that I can recollect--not much, at least." + +"There's a little room at the top of the house--all alone," +she returned; "perhaps you would not mind sleeping there?" + +"I can sleep anywhere, and I like best to be high up. Should I +be able to see out?" + +"I will show you the place," she answered; and taking him by the hand, +she led him up and up the oval-winding stair in one of the two towers. + +Near the top they entered a tiny little room, with two windows +from which you could see over the whole country. Diamond clapped +his hands with delight. + +"You would like this room, then, Diamond?" said his mistress. + +"It's the grandest room in the house," he answered. "I shall +be near the stars, and yet not far from the tops of the trees. +That's just what I like." + +I daresay he thought, also, that it would be a nice place for North +Wind to call at in passing; but he said nothing of that sort. +Below him spread a lake of green leaves, with glimpses of grass +here and there at the bottom of it. As he looked down, he saw +a squirrel appear suddenly, and as suddenly vanish amongst the +topmost branches. + +"Aha! little squirrel," he cried, "my nest is built higher than yours." + +"You can be up here with your books as much as you like," +said his mistress. "I will have a little bell hung at the door, +which I can ring when I want you. Half-way down the stair is +the drawing-room." + +So Diamond was installed as page, and his new room got ready for him. + +It was very soon after this that I came to know Diamond. +I was then a tutor in a family whose estate adjoined the little +property belonging to The Mound. I had made the acquaintance +of Mr. Raymond in London some time before, and was walking up +the drive towards the house to call upon him one fine warm evening, +when I saw Diamond for the first time. He was sitting at the foot +of a great beech-tree, a few yards from the road, with a book +on his knees. He did not see me. I walked up behind the tree, +and peeping over his shoulder, saw that he was reading a fairy-book. + +"What are you reading?" I said, and spoke suddenly, with the hope +of seeing a startled little face look round at me. Diamond turned +his head as quietly as if he were only obeying his mother's voice, +and the calmness of his face rebuked my unkind desire and made me +ashamed of it. + +"I am reading the story of the Little Lady and the Goblin Prince," +said Diamond. + +"I am sorry I don't know the story," I returned. "Who is it by?" + +"Mr. Raymond made it." + +"Is he your uncle?" I asked at a guess. + +"No. He's my master." + +"What do you do for him?" I asked respectfully. + +"Anything he wishes me to do," he answered. "I am busy for him now. +He gave me this story to read. He wants my opinion upon it." + +"Don't you find it rather hard to make up your mind?" + +"Oh dear no! Any story always tells me itself what I'm to think +about it. Mr. Raymond doesn't want me to say whether it is a +clever story or not, but whether I like it, and why I like it. +I never can tell what they call clever from what they call silly, +but I always know whether I like a story or not." + +"And can you always tell why you like it or not?" + +"No. Very often I can't at all. Sometimes I can. I always know, +but I can't always tell why. Mr. Raymond writes the stories, +and then tries them on me. Mother does the same when she makes jam. +She's made such a lot of jam since we came here! And she always makes +me taste it to see if it'll do. Mother knows by the face I make +whether it will or not." + +At this moment I caught sight of two more children approaching. +One was a handsome girl, the other a pale-faced, awkward-looking boy, +who limped much on one leg. I withdrew a little, to see what +would follow, for they seemed in some consternation. After a few +hurried words, they went off together, and I pursued my way to +the house, where I was as kindly received by Mr. and Mrs. Raymond +as I could have desired. From them I learned something of Diamond, +and was in consequence the more glad to find him, when I returned, +seated in the same place as before. + +"What did the boy and girl want with you, Diamond?" I asked. + +"They had seen a creature that frightened them." + +"And they came to tell you about it?" + +"They couldn't get water out of the well for it. So they wanted +me to go with them." + +"They're both bigger than you." + +"Yes, but they were frightened at it." + +"And weren't you frightened at it?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +"Because I'm silly. I'm never frightened at things." + +I could not help thinking of the old meaning of the word silly. + +"And what was it?" I asked. + +"I think it was a kind of an angel--a very little one. It had a long +body and great wings, which it drove about it so fast that they grew +a thin cloud all round it. It flew backwards and forwards over +the well, or hung right in the middle, making a mist of its wings, +as if its business was to take care of the water." + +"And what did you do to drive it away?" + +"I didn't drive it away. I knew, whatever the creature was, +the well was to get water out of. So I took the jug, dipped it in, +and drew the water." + +"And what did the creature do?" + +"Flew about." + +"And it didn't hurt you?" + +"No. Why should it? I wasn't doing anything wrong." + +"What did your companions say then?" + +"They said--`Thank you, Diamond. What a dear silly you are!'" + +"And weren't you angry with them?" + +"No! Why should I? I should like if they would play with me a little; +but they always like better to go away together when their work +is over. They never heed me. I don't mind it much, though. +The other creatures are friendly. They don't run away from me. +Only they're all so busy with their own work, they don't mind +me much." + +"Do you feel lonely, then?" + +"Oh, no! When nobody minds me, I get into my nest, and look up. +And then the sky does mind me, and thinks about me." + +"Where is your nest?" + +He rose, saying, "I will show you," and led me to the other side +of the tree. + +There hung a little rope-ladder from one of the lower boughs. +The boy climbed up the ladder and got upon the bough. Then he climbed +farther into the leafy branches, and went out of sight. + +After a little while, I heard his voice coming down out of the tree. + +"I am in my nest now," said the voice. + +"I can't see you," I returned. + +"I can't see you either, but I can see the first star peeping +out of the sky. I should like to get up into the sky. Don't you +think I shall, some day?" + +"Yes, I do. Tell me what more you see up there." + +"I don't see anything more, except a few leaves, and the big sky +over me. It goes swinging about. The earth is all behind my back. +There comes another star! The wind is like kisses from a big lady. +When I get up here I feel as if I were in North Wind's arms." + +This was the first I heard of North Wind. + +The whole ways and look of the child, so full of quiet wisdom, +yet so ready to accept the judgment of others in his own dispraise, +took hold of my heart, and I felt myself wonderfully drawn towards him. +It seemed to me, somehow, as if little Diamond possessed the secret +of life, and was himself what he was so ready to think the lowest +living thing--an angel of God with something special to say or do. +A gush of reverence came over me, and with a single goodnight, +I turned and left him in his nest. + +I saw him often after this, and gained so much of his confidence +that he told me all I have told you. I cannot pretend to account +for it. I leave that for each philosophical reader to do after +his own fashion. The easiest way is that of Nanny and Jim, +who said often to each other that Diamond had a tile loose. +But Mr. Raymond was much of my opinion concerning the boy; +while Mrs. Raymond confessed that she often rang her bell just +to have once more the pleasure of seeing the lovely stillness +of the boy's face, with those blue eyes which seemed rather made +for other people to look into than for himself to look out of. + +It was plainer to others than to himself that he felt the desertion +of Nanny and Jim. They appeared to regard him as a mere toy, +except when they found he could minister to the scruple of using him-- +generally with success. They were, however, well-behaved to a +wonderful degree; while I have little doubt that much of their +good behaviour was owing to the unconscious influence of the boy +they called God's baby. + +One very strange thing is that I could never find out where +he got some of his many songs. At times they would be but +bubbles blown out of a nursery rhyme, as was the following, +which I heard him sing one evening to his little Dulcimer. +There were about a score of sheep feeding in a paddock near him, +their white wool dyed a pale rose in the light of the setting sun. +Those in the long shadows from the trees were dead white; +those in the sunlight were half glorified with pale rose. + + + Little Bo Peep, she lost her sheep, + And didn't know where to find them; + They were over the height and out of sight, + Trailing their tails behind them. + + Little Bo Peep woke out of her sleep, + Jump'd up and set out to find them: + "The silly things, they've got no wings, + And they've left their trails behind them: + + "They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails, + And so I shall follow and find them;" + For wherever a tail had dragged a trail, + The long grass grew behind them. + + And day's eyes and butter-cups, cow's lips and crow's feet + Were glittering in the sun. + She threw down her book, and caught up her crook, + And after her sheep did run. + + She ran, and she ran, and ever as she ran, + The grass grew higher and higher; + Till over the hill the sun began + To set in a flame of fire. + + She ran on still -- up the grassy hill, + And the grass grew higher and higher; + When she reached its crown, the sun was down, + And had left a trail of fire. + + The sheep and their tails were gone, all gone -- + And no more trail behind them! + Yes, yes! they were there -- long-tailed and fair, + But, alas! she could not find them. + + Purple and gold, and rosy and blue, + With their tails all white behind them, + Her sheep they did run in the trail of the sun; + She saw them, but could not find them. + + After the sun, like clouds they did run, + But she knew they were her sheep: + She sat down to cry, and look up at the sky, + But she cried herself asleep. + + And as she slept the dew fell fast, + And the wind blew from the sky; + And strange things took place that shun the day's face, + Because they are sweet and shy. + + Nibble, nibble, crop! she heard as she woke: + A hundred little lambs + Did pluck and eat the grass so sweet + That grew in the trails of their dams. + + Little Bo Peep caught up her crook, + And wiped the tears that did blind her. + And nibble, nibble crop! without a stop! + The lambs came eating behind her. + + Home, home she came, both tired and lame, + With three times as many sheep. + In a month or more, they'll be as big as before, + And then she'll laugh in her sleep. + + But what would you say, if one fine day, + When they've got their bushiest tails, + Their grown up game should be just the same, + And she have to follow their trails? + + Never weep, Bo Peep, though you lose your sheep, + And do not know where to find them; + 'Tis after the sun the mothers have run, + And there are their lambs behind them. + +I confess again to having touched up a little, but it loses far +more in Diamond's sweet voice singing it than it gains by a rhyme +here and there. + +Some of them were out of books Mr. Raymond had given him. +These he always knew, but about the others he could seldom tell. +Sometimes he would say, "I made that one." but generally he would say, +"I don't know; I found it somewhere;" or "I got it at the back of +the north wind." + +One evening I found him sitting on the grassy slope under the house, +with his Dulcimer in his arms and his little brother rolling +on the grass beside them. He was chanting in his usual way, +more like the sound of a brook than anything else I can think of. +When I went up to them he ceased his chant. + +"Do go on, Diamond. Don't mind me," I said. + +He began again at once. While he sang, Nanny and Jim sat a little +way off, one hemming a pocket-handkerchief, and the other reading +a story to her, but they never heeded Diamond. This is as near +what he sang as I can recollect, or reproduce rather. + + What would you see if I took you up + To my little nest in the air? + You would see the sky like a clear blue cup + Turned upside downwards there. + + What would you do if I took you there + To my little nest in the tree? + My child with cries would trouble the air, + To get what she could but see. + + What would you get in the top of the tree + For all your crying and grief? + Not a star would you clutch of all you see -- + You could only gather a leaf. + + But when you had lost your greedy grief, + Content to see from afar, + You would find in your hand a withering leaf, + In your heart a shining star. + +As Diamond went on singing, it grew very dark, and just as he +ceased there came a great flash of lightning, that blinded us all +for a moment. Dulcimer crowed with pleasure; but when the roar +of thunder came after it, the little brother gave a loud cry +of terror. Nanny and Jim came running up to us, pale with fear. +Diamond's face, too, was paler than usual, but with delight. +Some of the glory seemed to have clung to it, and remained shining. + +"You're not frightened--are you, Diamond?" I said. + +"No. Why should I be?" he answered with his usual question, +looking up in my face with calm shining eyes. + +"He ain't got sense to be frightened," said Nanny, going up to him +and giving him a pitying hug. + +"Perhaps there's more sense in not being frightened, Nanny," I returned. +"Do you think the lightning can do as it likes?" + +"It might kill you," said Jim. + +"Oh, no, it mightn't!" said Diamond. + +As he spoke there came another great flash, and a tearing crack. + +"There's a tree struck!" I said; and when we looked round, +after the blinding of the flash had left our eyes, we saw a huge +bough of the beech-tree in which was Diamond's nest hanging +to the ground like the broken wing of a bird. + +"There!" cried Nanny; "I told you so. If you had been up there +you see what would have happened, you little silly!" + +"No, I don't," said Diamond, and began to sing to Dulcimer. +All I could hear of the song, for the other children were going on +with their chatter, was-- + + The clock struck one, + And the mouse came down. + Dickery, dickery, dock! + +Then there came a blast of wind, and the rain followed in +straight-pouring lines, as if out of a watering-pot. Diamond +jumped up with his little Dulcimer in his arms, and Nanny +caught up the little boy, and they ran for the cottage. +Jim vanished with a double shuffle, and I went into the house. + +When I came out again to return home, the clouds were gone, +and the evening sky glimmered through the trees, blue, and pale-green +towards the west, I turned my steps a little aside to look at the +stricken beech. I saw the bough torn from the stem, and that was +all the twilight would allow me to see. While I stood gazing, +down from the sky came a sound of singing, but the voice was +neither of lark nor of nightingale: it was sweeter than either: +it was the voice of Diamond, up in his airy nest:-- + + The lightning and thunder, + They go and they come; + But the stars and the stillness + Are always at home. + +And then the voice ceased. + +"Good-night, Diamond," I said. + +"Good-night, sir," answered Diamond. + +As I walked away pondering, I saw the great black top of the beech +swaying about against the sky in an upper wind, and heard the murmur +as of many dim half-articulate voices filling the solitude around +Diamond's nest. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +DIAMOND QUESTIONS NORTH WIND + + +MY READERS will not wonder that, after this, I did my very best +to gain the friendship of Diamond. Nor did I find this at +all difficult, the child was so ready to trust. Upon one subject +alone was he reticent--the story of his relations with North Wind. +I fancy he could not quite make up his mind what to think of them. +At all events it was some little time before he trusted me with this, +only then he told me everything. If I could not regard it +all in exactly the same light as he did, I was, while guiltless +of the least pretence, fully sympathetic, and he was satisfied +without demanding of me any theory of difficult points involved. +I let him see plainly enough, that whatever might be the explanation +of the marvellous experience, I would have given much for a similar +one myself. + +On an evening soon after the thunderstorm, in a late twilight, +with a half-moon high in the heavens, I came upon Diamond in the act +of climbing by his little ladder into the beech-tree. + +"What are you always going up there for, Diamond?" I heard Nanny ask, +rather rudely, I thought. + +"Sometimes for one thing, sometimes for another, Nanny," +answered Diamond, looking skywards as he climbed. + +"You'll break your neck some day," she said. + +"I'm going up to look at the moon to-night," he added, without heeding +her remark. + +"You'll see the moon just as well down here," she returned. + +"I don't think so." + +"You'll be no nearer to her up there." + +"Oh, yes! I shall. I must be nearer her, you know. I wish I +could dream as pretty dreams about her as you can, Nanny." + +"You silly! you never have done about that dream. I never dreamed +but that one, and it was nonsense enough, I'm sure." + +"It wasn't nonsense. It was a beautiful dream--and a funny one too, +both in one." + +"But what's the good of talking about it that way, when you know +it was only a dream? Dreams ain't true." + +"That one was true, Nanny. You know it was. Didn't you come to +grief for doing what you were told not to do? And isn't that true?" + +"I can't get any sense into him," exclaimed Nanny, with an expression +of mild despair. "Do you really believe, Diamond, that there's +a house in the moon, with a beautiful lady and a crooked old man +and dusters in it?" + +"If there isn't, there's something better," he answered, and vanished +in the leaves over our heads. + +I went into the house, where I visited often in the evenings. +When I came out, there was a little wind blowing, very pleasant +after the heat of the day, for although it was late summer now, +it was still hot. The tree-tops were swinging about in it. +I took my way past the beech, and called up to see if Diamond were +still in his nest in its rocking head. + +"Are you there, Diamond?" I said. + +"Yes, sir," came his clear voice in reply. + +"Isn't it growing too dark for you to get down safely?" + +"Oh, no, sir--if I take time to it. I know my way so well, +and never let go with one hand till I've a good hold with the other." + +"Do be careful," I insisted--foolishly, seeing the boy was as careful +as he could be already. + +"I'm coming," he returned. "I've got all the moon I want to-night." + + +I heard a rustling and a rustling drawing nearer and nearer. +Three or four minutes elapsed, and he appeared at length creeping +down his little ladder. I took him in my arms, and set him on +the ground. + +"Thank you, sir," he said. "That's the north wind blowing, +isn't it, sir?" + +"I can't tell," I answered. "It feels cool and kind, and I think +it may be. But I couldn't be sure except it were stronger, for a +gentle wind might turn any way amongst the trunks of the trees." + +"I shall know when I get up to my own room," said Diamond. +"I think I hear my mistress's bell. Good-night, sir." + +He ran to the house, and I went home. + +His mistress had rung for him only to send him to bed, for she was +very careful over him and I daresay thought he was not looking well. +When he reached his own room, he opened both his windows, +one of which looked to the north and the other to the east, to find +how the wind blew. It blew right in at the northern window. +Diamond was very glad, for he thought perhaps North Wind herself +would come now: a real north wind had never blown all the time +since he left London. But, as she always came of herself, +and never when he was looking for her, and indeed almost never when +he was thinking of her, he shut the east window, and went to bed. +Perhaps some of my readers may wonder that he could go to sleep with +such an expectation; and, indeed, if I had not known him, I should +have wondered at it myself; but it was one of his peculiarities, +and seemed nothing strange in him. He was so full of quietness that +he could go to sleep almost any time, if he only composed himself +and let the sleep come. This time he went fast asleep as usual. + +But he woke in the dim blue night. The moon had vanished. +He thought he heard a knocking at his door. "Somebody wants me," +he said to himself, and jumping out of bed, ran to open it. + +But there was no one there. He closed it again, and, the noise +still continuing, found that another door in the room was rattling. +It belonged to a closet, he thought, but he had never been able +to open it. The wind blowing in at the window must be shaking it. +He would go and see if it was so. + +The door now opened quite easily, but to his surprise, instead of +a closet he found a long narrow room. The moon, which was sinking +in the west, shone in at an open window at the further end. +The room was low with a coved ceiling, and occupied the whole top +of the house, immediately under the roof. It was quite empty. +The yellow light of the half-moon streamed over the dark floor. +He was so delighted at the discovery of the strange, desolate, +moonlit place close to his own snug little room, that he began +to dance and skip about the floor. The wind came in through +the door he had left open, and blew about him as he danced, +and he kept turning towards it that it might blow in his face. +He kept picturing to himself the many places, lovely and desolate, +the hill-sides and farm-yards and tree-tops and meadows, +over which it had blown on its way to The Mound. And as he danced, +he grew more and more delighted with the motion and the wind; +his feet grew stronger, and his body lighter, until at length it +seemed as if he were borne up on the air, and could almost fly. +So strong did his feeling become, that at last he began to doubt +whether he was not in one of those precious dreams he had +so often had, in which he floated about on the air at will. +But something made him look up, and to his unspeakable delight, +he found his uplifted hands lying in those of North Wind, +who was dancing with him, round and round the long bare room, +her hair now falling to the floor, now filling the arched ceiling, +her eyes shining on him like thinking stars, and the sweetest of +grand smiles playing breezily about her beautiful mouth. She was, +as so often before, of the height of a rather tall lady. She did not +stoop in order to dance with him, but held his hands high in hers. +When he saw her, he gave one spring, and his arms were about her neck, +and her arms holding him to her bosom. The same moment she swept +with him through the open window in at which the moon was shining, +made a circuit like a bird about to alight, and settled with him +in his nest on the top of the great beech-tree. There she placed +him on her lap and began to hush him as if he were her own baby, +and Diamond was so entirely happy that he did not care to speak +a word. At length, however, he found that he was going to sleep, +and that would be to lose so much, that, pleasant as it was, he could +not consent. + +"Please, dear North Wind," he said, "I am so happy that I'm afraid +it's a dream. How am I to know that it's not a dream?" + +"What does it matter?" returned North Wind. + +"I should, cry" said Diamond. + +"But why should you cry? The dream, if it is a dream, is a pleasant one-- +is it not?" + +"That's just why I want it to be true." + +"Have you forgotten what you said to Nanny about her dream?" + +"It's not for the dream itself--I mean, it's not for the pleasure +of it," answered Diamond, "for I have that, whether it be a dream +or not; it's for you, North Wind; I can't bear to find it a dream, +because then I should lose you. You would be nobody then, and I +could not bear that. You ain't a dream, are you, dear North Wind? +Do say No, else I shall cry, and come awake, and you'll be gone for ever. +I daren't dream about you once again if you ain't anybody." + +"I'm either not a dream, or there's something better that's not +a dream, Diamond," said North Wind, in a rather sorrowful tone, +he thought. + +"But it's not something better--it's you I want, North Wind," +he persisted, already beginning to cry a little. + +She made no answer, but rose with him in her arms and sailed away +over the tree-tops till they came to a meadow, where a flock +of sheep was feeding. + +"Do you remember what the song you were singing a week ago says +about Bo-Peep--how she lost her sheep, but got twice as many lambs?" +asked North Wind, sitting down on the grass, and placing him in her +lap as before. + +"Oh yes, I do, well enough," answered Diamond; "but I never just +quite liked that rhyme." + +"Why not, child?" + +"Because it seems to say one's as good as another, or two new ones +are better than one that's lost. I've been thinking about it +a great deal, and it seems to me that although any one sixpence +is as good as any other sixpence, not twenty lambs would do instead +of one sheep whose face you knew. Somehow, when once you've +looked into anybody's eyes, right deep down into them, I mean, +nobody will do for that one any more. Nobody, ever so beautiful +or so good, will make up for that one going out of sight. +So you see, North Wind, I can't help being frightened to think +that perhaps I am only dreaming, and you are nowhere at all. +Do tell me that you are my own, real, beautiful North Wind." + +Again she rose, and shot herself into the air, as if uneasy +because she could not answer him; and Diamond lay quiet in her arms, +waiting for what she would say. He tried to see up into her face, +for he was dreadfully afraid she was not answering him because she +could not say that she was not a dream; but she had let her hair +fall all over her face so that he could not see it. This frightened +him still more. + +"Do speak, North Wind," he said at last. + +"I never speak when I have nothing to say," she replied. + +"Then I do think you must be a real North Wind, and no dream," +said Diamond. + +"But I'm looking for something to say all the time." + +"But I don't want you to say what's hard to find. If you were +to say one word to comfort me that wasn't true, then I should know +you must be a dream, for a great beautiful lady like you could +never tell a lie." + +"But she mightn't know how to say what she had to say, so that +a little boy like you would understand it," said North Wind. +"Here, let us get down again, and I will try to tell you what I think. +You musn't suppose I am able to answer all your questions, though. +There are a great many things I don't understand more than you do." + +She descended on a grassy hillock, in the midst of a wild furzy common. +There was a rabbit-warren underneath, and some of the rabbits came +out of their holes, in the moonlight, looking very sober and wise, +just like patriarchs standing in their tent-doors, and looking +about them before going to bed. When they saw North Wind, +instead of turning round and vanishing again with a thump of +their heels, they cantered slowly up to her and snuffled all about +her with their long upper lips, which moved every way at once. +That was their way of kissing her; and, as she talked to Diamond, +she would every now and then stroke down their furry backs, +or lift and play with their long ears. They would, Diamond thought, +have leaped upon her lap, but that he was there already. + +"I think," said she, after they had been sitting silent for a while, +"that if I were only a dream, you would not have been able to love +me so. You love me when you are not with me, don't you?" + +"Indeed I do," answered Diamond, stroking her hand. "I see! I see! +How could I be able to love you as I do if you weren't there at all, +you know? Besides, I couldn't be able to dream anything half +so beautiful all out of my own head; or if I did, I couldn't love +a fancy of my own like that, could I?" + +"I think not. You might have loved me in a dream, dreamily, and forgotten +me when you woke, I daresay, but not loved me like a real being +as you love me. Even then, I don't think you could dream anything +that hadn't something real like it somewhere. But you've seen +me in many shapes, Diamond: you remember I was a wolf once--don't you?" + +"Oh yes--a good wolf that frightened a naughty drunken nurse." + +"Well, suppose I were to turn ugly, would you rather I weren't +a dream then?" + +"Yes; for I should know that you were beautiful inside all the same. +You would love me, and I should love you all the same. I shouldn't +like you to look ugly, you know. But I shouldn't believe it a bit." + +"Not if you saw it?" + +"No, not if I saw it ever so plain." + +"There's my Diamond! I will tell you all I know about it then. +I don't think I am just what you fancy me to be. I have to shape +myself various ways to various people. But the heart of me is true. +People call me by dreadful names, and think they know all about me. +But they don't. Sometimes they call me Bad Fortune, sometimes Evil Chance, +sometimes Ruin; and they have another name for me which they think +the most dreadful of all." + +"What is that?" asked Diamond, smiling up in her face. + +"I won't tell you that name. Do you remember having to go through +me to get into the country at my back?" + +"Oh yes, I do. How cold you were, North Wind! and so white, +all but your lovely eyes! My heart grew like a lump of ice, +and then I forgot for a while." + +"You were very near knowing what they call me then. Would you +be afraid of me if you had to go through me again?" + +"No. Why should I? Indeed I should be glad enough, if it was only +to get another peep of the country at your back." + +"You've never seen it yet." + +"Haven't I, North Wind? Oh! I'm so sorry! I thought I had. +What did I see then?" + +"Only a picture of it. The real country at my real back is ever +so much more beautiful than that. You shall see it one day-- +perhaps before very long." + +"Do they sing songs there?" + +"Don't you remember the dream you had about the little boys that dug +for the stars?" + +"Yes, that I do. I thought you must have had something to do +with that dream, it was so beautiful." + +"Yes; I gave you that dream." + +"Oh! thank you. Did you give Nanny her dream too--about the moon +and the bees?" + +"Yes. I was the lady that sat at the window of the moon." + +"Oh, thank you. I was almost sure you had something to do with that too. +And did you tell Mr. Raymond the story about the Princess Daylight?" + +"I believe I had something to do with it. At all events he thought +about it one night when he couldn't sleep. But I want to ask you +whether you remember the song the boy-angels sang in that dream +of yours." + +"No. I couldn't keep it, do what I would, and I did try." + +"That was my fault." + +"How could that be, North Wind?" + +"Because I didn't know it properly myself, and so I couldn't teach it +to you. I could only make a rough guess at something like what it +would be, and so I wasn't able to make you dream it hard enough +to remember it. Nor would I have done so if I could, for it was +not correct. I made you dream pictures of it, though. But you +will hear the very song itself when you do get to the back of----" + +"My own dear North Wind," said Diamond, finishing the sentence +for her, and kissing the arm that held him leaning against her. + +"And now we've settled all this--for the time, at least," +said North Wind. + +"But I can't feel quite sure yet," said Diamond. + +"You must wait a while for that. Meantime you may be hopeful, +and content not to be quite sure. Come now, I will take you home again, +for it won't do to tire you too much." + +"Oh, no, no. I'm not the least tired," pleaded Diamond. + +"It is better, though." + +"Very well; if you wish it," yielded Diamond with a sigh. + +"You are a dear good, boy" said North Wind. "I will come for you +again to-morrow night and take you out for a longer time. We shall +make a little journey together, in fact. We shall start earlier. +and as the moon will be, later, we shall have a little moonlight all +the way." + +She rose, and swept over the meadow and the trees. In a few moments +the Mound appeared below them. She sank a little, and floated +in at the window of Diamond's room. There she laid him on his bed, +covered him over, and in a moment he was lapt in a dreamless sleep. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +ONCE MORE + + +THE next night Diamond was seated by his open window, with his head +on his hand, rather tired, but so eagerly waiting for the promised +visit that he was afraid he could not sleep. But he started suddenly, +and found that he had been already asleep. He rose, and looking +out of the window saw something white against his beech-tree. It +was North Wind. She was holding by one hand to a top branch. +Her hair and her garments went floating away behind her over the tree, +whose top was swaying about while the others were still. + +"Are you ready, Diamond?" she asked. + +"Yes," answered Diamond, "quite ready." + +In a moment she was at the window, and her arms came in and took him. +She sailed away so swiftly that he could at first mark nothing but +the speed with which the clouds above and the dim earth below went +rushing past. But soon he began to see that the sky was very lovely, +with mottled clouds all about the moon, on which she threw faint +colours like those of mother-of-pearl, or an opal. The night was warm, +and in the lady's arms he did not feel the wind which down below was +making waves in the ripe corn, and ripples on the rivers and lakes. +At length they descended on the side of an open earthy hill, +just where, from beneath a stone, a spring came bubbling out. + +"I am going to take you along this little brook," said North Wind. +"I am not wanted for anything else to-night, so I can give you +a treat." + +She stooped over the stream and holding Diamond down close to the +surface of it, glided along level with its flow as it ran down +the hill. And the song of the brook came up into Diamond's ears, +and grew and grew and changed with every turn. It seemed to Diamond +to be singing the story of its life to him. And so it was. +It began with a musical tinkle which changed to a babble and then +to a gentle rushing. Sometimes its song would almost cease, and then +break out again, tinkle, babble, and rush, all at once. At the bottom +of the hill they came to a small river, into which the brook flowed +with a muffled but merry sound. Along the surface of the river, +darkly clear below them in the moonlight, they floated; now, where it +widened out into a little lake, they would hover for a moment over +a bed of water-lilies, and watch them swing about, folded in sleep, +as the water on which they leaned swayed in the presence of North Wind; +and now they would watch the fishes asleep among their roots below. +Sometimes she would hold Diamond over a deep hollow curving +into the bank, that he might look far into the cool stillness. +Sometimes she would leave the river and sweep across a clover-field. +The bees were all at home, and the clover was asleep. Then she would +return and follow the river. It grew wider and wider as it went. +Now the armies of wheat and of oats would hang over its rush +from the opposite banks; now the willows would dip low branches +in its still waters; and now it would lead them through stately +trees and grassy banks into a lovely garden, where the roses +and lilies were asleep, the tender flowers quite folded up, +and only a few wide-awake and sending out their life in sweet, +strong odours. Wider and wider grew the stream, until they came +upon boats lying along its banks, which rocked a little in the +flutter of North Wind's garments. Then came houses on the banks, +each standing in a lovely lawn, with grand trees; and in parts +the river was so high that some of the grass and the roots of some +of the trees were under water, and Diamond, as they glided through +between the stems, could see the grass at the bottom of the water. +Then they would leave the river and float about and over the houses, +one after another--beautiful rich houses, which, like fine trees, +had taken centuries to grow. There was scarcely a light to be seen, +and not a movement to be heard: all the people in them lay +fast asleep. + +"What a lot of dreams they must be dreaming!" said Diamond. + +"Yes," returned North Wind. "They can't surely be all lies-- +can they?" + +"I should think it depends a little on who dreams them," +suggested Diamond. + +"Yes," said North Wind. "The people who think lies, and do lies, +are very likely to dream lies. But the people who love what is true +will surely now and then dream true things. But then something +depends on whether the dreams are home-grown, or whether the seed +of them is blown over somebody else's garden-wall. Ah! there's +some one awake in this house!" + +They were floating past a window in which a light was burning. +Diamond heard a moan, and looked up anxiously in North Wind's face. + +"It's a lady," said North Wind. "She can't sleep for pain." + +"Couldn't you do something for her?" said Diamond. + +"No, I can't. But you could." + +"What could I do?" + +"Sing a little song to her." + +"She wouldn't hear me." + +"I will take you in, and then she will hear you." + +"But that would be rude, wouldn't it? You can go where you please, +of course, but I should have no business in her room." + +"You may trust me, Diamond. I shall take as good care of the lady +as of you. The window is open. Come." + +By a shaded lamp, a lady was seated in a white wrapper, +trying to read, but moaning every minute. North Wind floated behind +her chair, set Diamond down, and told him to sing something. +He was a little frightened, but he thought a while, and then sang:-- + + The sun is gone down, + And the moon's in the sky; + But the sun will come up, + And the moon be laid by. + + The flower is asleep + But it is not dead; + When the morning shines, + It will lift its head. + + When winter comes, + It will die -- no, no; + It will only hide + From the frost and the snow. + + Sure is the summer, + Sure is the sun; + The night and the winter + Are shadows that run. + +The lady never lifted her eyes from her book, or her head from +her hand. + +As soon as Diamond had finished, North Wind lifted him and carried +him away. + +"Didn't the lady hear me?" asked Diamond when they were once more +floating down the river. + +"Oh, yes, she heard you," answered North Wind. + +"Was she frightened then?" + +"Oh, no." + +"Why didn't she look to see who it was?" + +"She didn't know you were there." + +"How could she hear me then?" + +"She didn't hear you with her ears." + +"What did she hear me with?" + +"With her heart." + +"Where did she think the words came from?" + +"She thought they came out of the book she was reading. She will +search all through it to-morrow to find them, and won't be able +to understand it at all." + +"Oh, what fun!" said Diamond. "What will she do?" + +"I can tell you what she won't do: she'll never forget the meaning +of them; and she'll never be able to remember the words of them." + +"If she sees them in Mr. Raymond's book, it will puzzle her, +won't it?" + +"Yes, that it will. She will never be able to understand it." + +"Until she gets to the back of the north wind," suggested Diamond. + +"Until she gets to the back of the north wind," assented the lady. + +"Oh!" cried Diamond, "I know now where we are. Oh! do let me go +into the old garden, and into mother's room, and Diamond's stall. +I wonder if the hole is at the back of my bed still. I should like +to stay there all the rest of the night. It won't take you long +to get home from here, will it, North Wind?" + +"No," she answered; "you shall stay as long as you like." + +"Oh, how jolly," cried Diamond, as North Wind sailed over the house +with him, and set him down on the lawn at the back. + +Diamond ran about the lawn for a little while in the moonlight. +He found part of it cut up into flower-beds, and the little +summer-house with the coloured glass and the great elm-tree gone. +He did not like this, and ran into the stable. There were no +horses there at all. He ran upstairs. The rooms were empty. +The only thing left that he cared about was the hole in the wall +where his little bed had stood; and that was not enough to make him +wish to stop. He ran down the stair again, and out upon the lawn. +There he threw himself down and began to cry. It was all so dreary +and lost! + +"I thought I liked the place so much," said Diamond to himself, +"but I find I don't care about it. I suppose it's only the people +in it that make you like a place, and when they're gone, it's dead, +and you don't care a bit about it. North Wind told me I might stop +as long as I liked, and I've stopped longer already. North Wind!" +he cried aloud, turning his face towards the sky. + +The moon was under a cloud, and all was looking dull and dismal. +A star shot from the sky, and fell in the grass beside him. +The moment it lighted, there stood North Wind. + +"Oh!" cried Diamond, joyfully, "were you the shooting star?" + +"Yes, my child." + +"Did you hear me call you then?" + +"Yes." + +"So high up as that?" + +"Yes; I heard you quite well." + +"Do take me home." + +"Have you had enough of your old home already?" + +"Yes, more than enough. It isn't a home at all now." + +"I thought that would be it," said North Wind. "Everything, dreaming +and all, has got a soul in it, or else it's worth nothing, and we +don't care a bit about it. Some of our thoughts are worth nothing, +because they've got no soul in them. The brain puts them into +the mind, not the mind into the brain." + +"But how can you know about that, North Wind? You haven't got +a body." + +"If I hadn't you wouldn't know anything about me. No creature can +know another without the help of a body. But I don't care to talk +about that. It is time for you to go home." + +So saying, North Wind lifted Diamond and bore him away. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND + + +I DID not see Diamond for a week or so after this, and then he told me +what I have now told you. I should have been astonished at his being able +even to report such conversations as he said he had had with North Wind, +had I not known already that some children are profound in metaphysics. +But a fear crosses me, lest, by telling so much about my friend, +I should lead people to mistake him for one of those consequential, +priggish little monsters, who are always trying to say clever things, +and looking to see whether people appreciate them. When a child +like that dies, instead of having a silly book written about him, +he should be stuffed like one of those awful big-headed fishes you see +in museums. But Diamond never troubled his head about what people +thought of him. He never set up for knowing better than others. +The wisest things he said came out when he wanted one to help +him with some difficulty he was in. He was not even offended +with Nanny and Jim for calling him a silly. He supposed there +was something in it, though he could not quite understand what. +I suspect however that the other name they gave him, God's Baby, +had some share in reconciling him to it. + +Happily for me, I was as much interested in metaphysics as +Diamond himself, and therefore, while he recounted his conversations +with North Wind, I did not find myself at all in a strange sea, +although certainly I could not always feel the bottom, being indeed +convinced that the bottom was miles away. + +"Could it be all dreaming, do you think, sir?" he asked anxiously. + +"I daren't say, Diamond," I answered. "But at least there is one +thing you may be sure of, that there is a still better love than that +of the wonderful being you call North Wind. Even if she be a dream, +the dream of such a beautiful creature could not come to you by chance." + +"Yes, I know," returned Diamond; "I know." + +Then he was silent, but, I confess, appeared more thoughtful +than satisfied. + +The next time I saw him, he looked paler than usual. + +"Have you seen your friend again?" I asked him. + +"Yes," he answered, solemnly. + +"Did she take you out with her?" + +"No. She did not speak to me. I woke all at once, as I generally +do when I am going to see her, and there she was against the door +into the big room, sitting just as I saw her sit on her own doorstep, +as white as snow, and her eyes as blue as the heart of an iceberg. +She looked at me, but never moved or spoke." + +"Weren't you afraid?" I asked. + +"No. Why should I have been?" he answered. "I only felt a little cold." + +"Did she stay long?" + +"I don't know. I fell asleep again. I think I have been rather +cold ever since though," he added with a smile. + +I did not quite like this, but I said nothing. + +Four days after, I called again at the Mound. The maid who opened +the door looked grave, but I suspected nothing. When I reached +the drawing-room, I saw Mrs. Raymond had been crying. + +"Haven't you heard?" she said, seeing my questioning looks. + +"I've heard nothing," I answered. + +"This morning we found our dear little Diamond lying on the floor +of the big attic-room, just outside his own door--fast asleep, +as we thought. But when we took him up, we did not think he was asleep. +We saw that----" + +Here the kind-hearted lady broke out crying afresh. + +"May I go and see him?" I asked. + +"Yes," she sobbed. "You know your way to the top of the tower." + +I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, +as white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. +I saw at once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he +had gone to the back of the north wind. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of At the Back of the North Wind. + + + diff --git a/old/nwind10.zip b/old/nwind10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a1632e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/nwind10.zip |