hat," said the North Wind.

"But you will give me the tooth-ache. Mother has it already."

"But what is to become of me without a window!" cried the voice.

"I am sure I don't know. All I say is that it will be worse for me than
for you."

"No, it will not," replied the voice. "You shall not be the worse for
it--I promise you that. You will be much the better for it. Just believe
what I say, and do as I tell you."

"Well, I _can_ pull the clothes over my head," said Diamond. So he felt
around with his little sharp nails, got hold of one edge of the paper
and tore it off. In came a long whistling stream of cold that struck his
little naked chest. He scrambled and tumbled in under the bed-clothes
and covered himself up. There was no paper between him and the voice
now, and he felt--not frightened exactly--but a little queer.

"What a strange person this North Wind must be," thought Diamond, "to
live in what they call 'Out-of-Doors,' I suppose, and make windows into
people's beds."

Now the voice began again. He could hear it quite plainly, even with his
head under the bed-clothes. It was still more gentle now, though it was
six times as large and loud as before. 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 is a very nice name," replied the boy.

"I am not so sure of that," said the voice.

"Well, I am!" returned Diamond. "I think it is a very pretty name."

"Diamond is a useless thing, rather," said the voice.

"That is not true. Diamond is very useful--and as big as two--and so
quiet all night! But doesn't he make a jolly row in the morning, getting
up on his four great legs! It is like thunder!"

"You do not seem to know what a diamond is!" cried the voice.

"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, Mr. North Wind, if you are so particular, he is big
Diamond and I am little Diamond. And I do not know which of us my father
likes best!"

A beautiful laugh, soft and musical, sounded somewhere near him. But the
boy kept his head under the clothes.

"I am not Mr. North Wind," said the voice.

"You told me you were the North Wind," cried Diamond.

"I did not say _Mr._ North Wind," said the voice.

"Well, I _do_ say Mr. for my mother tells me always to be polit