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,