with her broom over her shoulder, calling "Cab, there! Cab!"
And when Diamond's father reached the curbstone, who should it be but
Mrs. Coleman and Miss Coleman! Diamond and his father were very happy to
see them again and gladly drove them home. When they wanted to pay for
it, Diamond's father would not hear of it, but jumped on his box and
drove away.

It was a long time since Diamond had seen North Wind or even thought
much about her. Now, as his father drove along, he was thinking not
about her but about the crossing sweeper. He 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. From that, he recalled the
whole adventure of the night when he had gone out with North Wind and
made her put him down in a London street.

A few nights after this, Diamond woke up suddenly, believing he heard
the north wind thundering along. But it was something quite different.
South Wind was moaning around the chimneys, to be sure, for she was not
very happy that night. But it was not her voice that had wakened
Diamond. It was a loud angry voice, now growling like that of a beast,
now raving like that of a madman. It was the voice of the drunken cabman
whose room was just through the wall at the back of Diamond's bed.

At length, there came a cry from the woman and a scream from the baby.
Diamond thought it was time somebody did something. He jumped up and
went to see. The voice of the crying baby guided him to the right door
and he peeped in. The drunken cabman had dropped into a chair, his wife
lay sobbing on the bed, and the baby was wailing in its cradle.

Diamond's first thought was to run away from the misery of it. But he
remembered at once that he had been at the back of the north wind.
People who had been there must always try to destroy misery wherever
they saw it. But what could he do? Well, there was the baby. He stole in
and lifted it into his arms and soon had it on his knee, smiling at the
light that came in from the street lamp. He began to sing to it in a low
voice--the song of the river as it ran over the soft grass and among the
flowers in the country at the back of the north wind. He sang on till
the baby went sound asleep. He himself got sleepier and sleepier, though
the cabman and his wife only got wider awake all the time. At length,
Diamond found himse