the world away with them, and meant to tarry on it
no longer. They reached the veil and dashed against it. Oh, how strong
they were! But the veil did not stir. The whirlwinds blew against it
again and again, three times in succession, then they gave up the
attempt. They saw that the veil was firmer than the earth itself.
After lingering a few moments they returned, wearied and covered with
disgrace, and once more circled around the earth in their wild rage.
You can imagine what happened to every thing that came in their way.
Nothing good at any rate. Alas! alas!

The whirlwinds returned to Holy Friday and told her about the veil.
Holy Friday was now not only half-angry, but wholly enraged, so she
sent the whirlwinds to the emperor's court to tell Petru he must
intercede with the Fairy Aurora and promise to do whatever she asked,
that light might return to the world. The whirlwinds set out
again--this time somewhat more slowly and peacefully, as people depart
when engaged on a good errand to a friendly person. They reached the
palace. Petru was not there. The whirlwinds began to act somewhat
more willfully. Petru had perished on the way. The whirlwinds circled
around the palace from the left, then from the right, then from the
center, turned it, twisted it, raised it, and hurled it, till there
was nothing left of it. Then they returned to Holy Friday's hut with
the news of Petru's death.

"Go into the world, every one of you, move every thing that can be
moved, and find Petru. Bring him to me dead or alive!" said Holy
Friday, after she had heard the sad tidings.

For three days and three nights the whirlwinds did not stop blowing.
Thrice they uprooted trees, drove the rivers from their beds,
dispersed the clouds by beating them against the rocks, swept the
bottom of the sea and destroyed the surface of the earth. It was all
in vain. They came back to the house, each one more tired, angry and
mortified than the other.

Only one still lingered: the Spring wind, the soft, lazy, warm Spring
wind. What had become of him? They all knew that he could not have
accomplished much. Who knows? Weary as he was, he had perhaps lain
down somewhere in the shade. Nobody troubled his head any more about
him. Suddenly, after a short time, when all were racking their brains
to discover Petru, the leaves began to stir gently.

Holy Friday felt the soft air, and went out. "What news do you bring?"
she asked the favorite of all the winds