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