At the Back of the North Wind

“But my nonsense is just as good as yours, Nanny. When you have done, I’ll tell you my dream. The stars are in it—not the moon, though. She was away somewhere. Perhaps she was gone to fetch you then. I don’t think that, though, for my dream was longer ago than yours. She might have been to fetch some one else, though; for we can’t fancy it’s only us that get such fine things done for them. But do tell me what came next.”

Perhaps one of my child-readers may remember whether the moon came down to fetch him or her the same night that Diamond had his dream. I cannot tell, of course. I know she did not come to fetch me, though I did think I could make her follow me when I was a boy—not a very tiny one either.

“The little man took me all round the house, and made me look out of every window. Oh, it was beautiful! There we were, all up in the air, in such a nice, clean little house! `Your work will be to keep the windows bright,’ said the little man. `You won’t find it very difficult, for there ain’t much dust up here. Only, the frost settles on them sometimes, and the drops of rain leave marks on them.’ `I can easily clean them inside,’ I said; `but how am I to get the frost and rain off the outside of them?’ `Oh!’ he said, `it’s quite easy. There are ladders all about. You’ve only got to go out at the door, and climb about. There are a great many windows you haven’t seen yet, and some of them look into places you don’t know anything about. I used to clean them myself, but I’m getting rather old, you see. Ain’t I now?’ `I can’t tell,’ I answered. `You see I never saw you when you were younger.’ `Never saw the man in the moon?’ said he. `Not very near,’ I answered, `not to tell how young or how old he looked. I have seen the bundle of sticks on his back.’ For Jim had pointed that out to me. Jim was very fond of looking at the man in the moon. Poor Jim! I wonder he hasn’t been to see me. I’m afraid he’s ill too.”

“I’ll try to find out,” said Diamond, “and let you know.”

“Thank you,” said Nanny. “You and Jim ought to be friends.”

“But what did the man in the moon say, when you told him you had seen him with the bundle of sticks on his back?”

“He laughed. But I thought he looked offended too. His little nose turned up sharper, and he drew the corners of his mouth down from the tips of his ears into his neck. But he didn’t look cross, you know.”

“Didn’t he say anything?”

“Oh, yes! He said: `That’s all nonsense. What you saw was my bundle of dusters. I was going to clean the windows. It takes a good many, you know. Really, what they do say of their superiors down there!’ `It’s only because they don’t know better,’ I ventured to say. `Of course, of course,’ said the little man. `Nobody ever does know better. Well, I forgive them, and that sets it all right, I hope.’ `It’s very good of you,’ I said. `No!’ said he, `it’s not in the least good of me. I couldn’t be comfortable otherwise.’ After this he said nothing for a while, and I laid myself on the floor of his garret, and stared up and around at the great blue beautifulness. I had forgotten him almost, when at last he said: `Ain’t you done yet?’ `Done what?’ I asked. `Done saying your prayers,’ says he. ‘I wasn’t saying my prayers,’ I answered. `Oh, yes, you were,’ said he, `though you didn’t know it! And now I must show you something else.’

“He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through a narrow passage, and through another, and another, and another. I don’t know how there could be room for so many passages in such a little house. The heart of it must be ever so much farther from the sides than they are from each other. How could it have an inside that was so independent of its outside? There’s the point. It was funny—wasn’t it, Diamond?”

“No,” said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much the sort of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked himself and only added, “All right. I don’t see it. I don’t see why the inside should depend on the outside. It ain’t so with the crabs. They creep out of their outsides and make new ones. Mr. Raymond told me so.”

“I don’t see what that has got to do with it,” said Nanny.

“Then go on with your story, please,” said Diamond. “What did you come to, after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the moon?”

“I didn’t say they were winding passages. I said they were long and narrow. They didn’t wind. They went by corners.”

“That’s worth knowing,” remarked Diamond. “For who knows how soon he may have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?”

“We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is it?’ I asked. `Don’t you know the sound?’ returned the little man. `No,’ I answered. `Don’t you know the sound of bees?’ he said. I had never heard bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady’s bees,’ he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers. `But where are the flowers for them?’ I asked. `My lady’s bees gather their honey from the sun and the stars,’ said the little man. `Do let me see them,’ I said. `No. I daren’t do that,’ he answered. `I have no business with them. I don’t understand them. Besides, they are so bright that if one were to fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.’ `Then you have seen them?’ `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don’t quite know: they are so very bright—like buttons of lightning. Now I’ve showed you all I can to-night, and we’ll go back to the room.’ I followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from the roof, and gave me some bread and honey.

“The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very still, and her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I did not see her whole face—only the side of it, for she never moved to turn it full upon me, or even to look at me.

“How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don’t know. The little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and clean the windows, and I didn’t fancy the job. At last he came up to me with a great armful of dusters. `It’s time you set about the windows,’ he said; `for there’s rain coming, and if they’re quite clean before, then the rain can’t spoil them.’ I got up at once. `You needn’t be afraid,’ he said. `You won’t tumble off. Only you must be careful. Always hold on with one hand while you rub with the other.’ As he spoke, he opened the door. I started back in a terrible fright, for there was nothing but blue air to be seen under me, like a great water without a bottom at all. But what must be must, and to live up here was so much nicer than down in the mud with holes in my shoes, that I never thought of not doing as I was told. The little man showed me how and where to lay hold while I put my foot round the edge of the door on to the first round of a ladder. `Once you’re up,’ he said, `you’ll see how you have to go well enough.’ I did as he told me, and crept out very carefully. Then the little man handed me the bundle of dusters, saying, `I always carry them on my reaping hook, but I don’t think you could manage it properly. You shall have it if you like.’ I wouldn’t take it, however, for it looked dangerous.

“I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the top of the moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars were all over my head, so bright and so near that I could almost have laid hold of them. The round ball to which I clung went bobbing and floating away through the dark blue above and below and on every side. It was so beautiful that all fear left me, and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window after window. At length I came to a very little one, in at which I peeped. There was the room with the box of bees in it! I laid my ear to the window, and heard the musical hum quite distinctly. A great longing to see them came upon me, and I opened the window and crept in. The little box had a door like a closet. I opened it—the tiniest crack—when out came the light with such a sting that I closed it again in terror—not, however, before three bees had shot out into the room, where they darted about like flashes of lightning. Terribly frightened, I tried to get out of the window again, but I could not: there was no way to the outside of the moon but through the door; and that was in the room where the lady sat. No sooner had I reached the room, than the three bees, which had followed me, flew at once to the lady, and settled upon her hair. Then first I saw her move. She started, put up her hand, and caught them; then rose and, having held them into the flame of the lamp one after the other, turned to me. Her face was not so sad now as stern. It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me into trouble,’ she said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is all I can do to manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great loss, and there will be a storm.’ As she spoke, the clouds had gathered all about us. I could see them come crowding up white about the windows. `I am sorry to find,’ said the lady, `that you are not to be trusted. You must go home again—you won’t do for us.’ Then came a great clap of thunder, and the moon rocked and swayed. All grew dark about me, and I fell on the floor and lay half-stunned. I could hear everything but could see nothing. `Shall I throw her out of the door, my lady?’ said the little man. `No,’ she answered; `she’s not quite bad enough for that. I don’t think there’s much harm in her; only she’ll never do for us. She would make dreadful mischief up here. She’s only fit for the mud. It’s a great pity. I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly afraid she has stolen it.’ The little man caught hold of my hand, and I felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was true about it, but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. Other things began to come into my head. Somebody else had a hold of me. The little man wasn’t there. I opened my eyes at last, and saw the nurse. I had cried out in my sleep, and she had come and waked me. But, Diamond, for all it was only a dream, I cannot help being ashamed of myself yet for opening the lady’s box of bees.”

“You wouldn’t do it again—would you—if she were to take you back?” said Diamond.

“No. I don’t think anything would ever make me do it again. But where’s the good? I shall never have the chance.”

“I don’t know that,” said Diamond.

“You silly baby! It was only a dream,” said Nanny.

“I know that, Nanny, dear. But how can you tell you mayn’t dream it again?”

“That’s not a bit likely.”

“I don’t know that,” said Diamond.

“You’re always saying that,” said Nanny. “I don’t like it.”

“Then I won’t say it again—if I don’t forget.” said Diamond. “But it was such a beautiful dream!—wasn’t it, Nanny? What a pity you opened that door and let the bees out! You might have had such a long dream, and such nice talks with the moon-lady. Do try to go again, Nanny. I do so want to hear more.”

But now the nurse came and told him it was time to go; and Diamond went, saying to himself, “I can’t help thinking that North Wind had something to do with that dream. It would be tiresome to lie there all day and all night too—without dreaming. Perhaps if she hadn’t done that, the moon might have carried her to the back of the north wind—who knows?”

CHAPTER XXXI. THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW

IT WAS a great delight to Diamond when at length Nanny was well enough to leave the hospital and go home to their house. She was not very strong yet, but Diamond’s mother was very considerate of her, and took care that she should have nothing to do she was not quite fit for. If Nanny had been taken straight from the street, it is very probable she would not have been so pleasant in a decent household, or so easy to teach; but after the refining influences of her illness and the kind treatment she had had in the hospital, she moved about the house just like some rather sad pleasure haunting the mind. As she got better, and the colour came back to her cheeks, her step grew lighter and quicker, her smile shone out more readily, and it became certain that she would soon be a treasure of help. It was great fun to see Diamond teaching her how to hold the baby, and wash and dress him, and often they laughed together over her awkwardness. But she had not many such lessons before she was able to perform those duties quite as well as Diamond himself.

Things however did not go well with Joseph from the very arrival of Ruby. It almost seemed as if the red beast had brought ill luck with him. The fares were fewer, and the pay less. Ruby’s services did indeed make the week’s income at first a little beyond what it used to be, but then there were two more to feed. After the first month he fell lame, and for the whole of the next Joseph dared not attempt to work him. I cannot say that he never grumbled, for his own health was far from what it had been; but I can say that he tried to do his best. During all that month, they lived on very short commons indeed, seldom tasting meat except on Sundays, and poor old Diamond, who worked hardest of all, not even then—so that at the end of it he was as thin as a clothes-horse, while Ruby was as plump and sleek as a bishop’s cob.

Nor was it much better after Ruby was able to work again, for it was a season of great depression in business, and that is very soon felt amongst the cabmen. City men look more after their shillings, and their wives and daughters have less to spend. It was besides a wet autumn, and bread rose greatly in price. When I add to this that Diamond’s mother was but poorly, for a new baby was coming, you will see that these were not very jolly times for our friends in the mews.

Notwithstanding the depressing influences around him, Joseph was able to keep a little hope alive in his heart; and when he came home at night, would get Diamond to read to him, and would also make Nanny produce her book that he might see how she was getting on. For Diamond had taken her education in hand, and as she was a clever child, she was very soon able to put letters and words together.

Thus the three months passed away, but Mr. Raymond did not return. Joseph had been looking anxiously for him, chiefly with the desire of getting rid of Ruby—not that he was absolutely of no use to him, but that he was a constant weight upon his mind. Indeed, as far as provision went, he was rather worse off with Ruby and Nanny than he had been before, but on the other hand, Nanny was a great help in the house, and it was a comfort to him to think that when the new baby did come, Nanny would be with his wife.

Of God’s gifts a baby is of the greatest; therefore it is no wonder that when this one came, she was as heartily welcomed by the little household as if she had brought plenty with her. Of course she made a great difference in the work to be done—far more difference than her size warranted, but Nanny was no end of help, and Diamond was as much of a sunbeam as ever, and began to sing to the new baby the first moment he got her in his arms. But he did not sing the same songs to her that he had sung to his brother, for, he said, she was a new baby and must have new songs; and besides, she was a sister-baby and not a brother-baby, and of course would not like the same kind of songs. Where the difference in his songs lay, however, I do not pretend to be able to point out. One thing I am sure of, that they not only had no small share in the education of the little girl, but helped the whole family a great deal more than they were aware.

How they managed to get through the long dreary expensive winter, I can hardly say. Sometimes things were better, sometimes worse. But at last the spring came, and the winter was over and gone, and that was much. Still, Mr. Raymond did not return, and although the mother would have been able to manage without Nanny now, they could not look for a place for her so long as they had Ruby; and they were not altogether sorry for this. One week at last was worse than they had yet had. They were almost without bread before it was over. But the sadder he saw his father and mother looking, the more Diamond set himself to sing to the two babies.

One thing which had increased their expenses was that they had been forced to hire another little room for Nanny. When the second baby came, Diamond gave up his room that Nanny might be at hand to help his mother, and went to hers, which, although a fine place to what she had been accustomed to, was not very nice in his eyes. He did not mind the change though, for was not his mother the more comfortable for it? And was not Nanny more comfortable too? And indeed was not Diamond himself more comfortable that other people were more comfortable? And if there was more comfort every way, the change was a happy one.

CHAPTER XXXII. DIAMOND AND RUBY

IT WAS Friday night, and Diamond, like the rest of the household, had had very little to eat that day. The mother would always pay the week’s rent before she laid out anything even on food. His father had been very gloomy—so gloomy that he had actually been cross to his wife. It is a strange thing how pain of seeing the suffering of those we love will sometimes make us add to their suffering by being cross with them. This comes of not having faith enough in God, and shows how necessary this faith is, for when we lose it, we lose even the kindness which alone can soothe the suffering. Diamond in consequence had gone to bed very quiet and thoughtful—a little troubled indeed.

It had been a very stormy winter, and even now that the spring had come, the north wind often blew. When Diamond went to his bed, which was in a tiny room in the roof, he heard it like the sea moaning; and when he fell asleep he still heard the moaning. All at once he said to himself, “Am I awake, or am I asleep?” But he had no time to answer the question, for there was North Wind calling him. His heart beat very fast, it was such a long time since he had heard that voice. He jumped out of bed, and looked everywhere, but could not see her. “Diamond, come here,” she said again and again; but where the here was he could not tell. To be sure the room was all but quite dark, and she might be close beside him.

“Dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “I want so much to go to you, but I can’t tell where.”

“Come here, Diamond,” was all her answer.

Diamond opened the door, and went out of the room, and down the stair and into the yard. His little heart was in a flutter, for he had long given up all thought of seeing her again. Neither now was he to see her. When he got out, a great puff of wind came against him, and in obedience to it he turned his back, and went as it blew. It blew him right up to the stable-door, and went on blowing.

“She wants me to go into the stable,” said Diamond to himself, “but the door is locked.”

He knew where the key was, in a certain hole in the wall—far too high for him to get at. He ran to the place, however: just as he reached it there came a wild blast, and down fell the key clanging on the stones at his feet. He picked it up, and ran back and opened the stable-door, and went in. And what do you think he saw?

A little light came through the dusty window from a gas-lamp, sufficient to show him Diamond and Ruby with their two heads up, looking at each other across the partition of their stalls. The light showed the white mark on Diamond’s forehead, but Ruby’s eye shone so bright, that he thought more light came out of it than went in. This is what he saw.

But what do you think he heard?

He heard the two horses talking to each other—in a strange language, which yet, somehow or other, he could understand, and turn over in his mind in English. The first words he heard were from Diamond, who apparently had been already quarrelling with Ruby.

“Look how fat you are Ruby!” said old Diamond. “You are so plump and your skin shines so, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”