“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.”

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