He was too glad of having the sun and the wind again, to fret because he could not run about. He lay down on the dry sand, and his mother covered him with a shawl. She then sat by his side, and took a bit of work from her pocket. But Diamond felt rather sleepy, and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the sand.
A few yards off he saw something fluttering.
"What is that, mother?" he said.
"Only a bit of paper," she answered.
"It flutters more than a bit of paper would, I think," said Diamond.
"I'll go and see if you like," said his mother. "My eyes are none of the best."So she rose and went and found that they were both right, for it was a little book, partly buried in the sand. But several of its leaves were clear of the sand, and these the wind kept blowing about in a very flutterful manner. She took it up and brought it to Diamond.
"What is it, mother?" he asked.
"Some nursery rhymes, I think," she answered.
"I'm too sleepy," said Diamond. "Do read some of them to me.""Yes, I will," she said, and began one.--"But this is such nonsense!"she said again. "I will try to find a better one."She turned the leaves searching, but three times, with sudden puffs, the wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses.
"Do read that one," said Diamond, who seemed to be of the same mind as the wind. "It sounded very nice. I am sure it is a good one."So his mother thought it might amuse him, though she couldn't find any sense in it. She never thought he might understand it, although she could not.
Now I do not exactly know what the mother read, but this is what Diamond heard, or thought afterwards that he had heard.
He was, however, as I have said, very sleepy. And when he thought he understood the verses he may have been only dreaming better ones.
This is how they went--
