Rocking the buds on the rose-mother's breast,
Swinging the hyacinth-bells to rest.

The children may sleep, but the winds must wake
Early and late, for the children's sake;
Singing so sweet in each little one's ear,
He thinks his mother's own song to hear.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

The rain came down from the sky,
And we asked it the reason why
It would ne'er stay away
On washing-day,
To let our poor clothes get dry.

The rain came down to the ground,
With a chattering, pelting sound.
"Indeed, if I stayed
Till you called me," it said,
"I should not come all the year round!"

CHAPTER VII.

A RAINY DAY AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

"WELL, I suppose that is true!" said Brighteyes, who had been singing
this little song as she stood by the dining-room window after breakfast,
watching the rain. "I suppose it must rain some time. But I do wish it
would always rain at night, Uncle Jacket. Just think how nice it would
be!"

"Very nice for you," replied Uncle Jack. "But how about the owls and
bats, and watchmen and cats, who have to be out all night? they might
not fancy it quite so much. They might not like it," he continued, "any
more than I like to have a great boy and girl stand and look out of the
window, when my fire is hungry. Look at the poor thing, almost starved
for want of food!"

"Hi! Brighteyes," cried Nibble. "Which will get to the wood-box first?"
That was certainly a question, and it was also a question whose neck
would be broken first, to judge from the way in which they rushed out of
the room. But they came back safely, strange to say, Nibble in advance,
with a huge stick of yellow birch nearly as large as himself, while
Brighteyes followed closely with another.

"Ah!" said Uncle Jack, rubbing his hands. "Now we shall see a fire, for
it is cold this morning, if it _is_ the end of May. There," he
continued, placing the logs carefully, and heaping the coals over them.
"So my fire-spirit has his breakfast, as well as the rest of us. He is
an excellent fellow, and should be well treated. Did you ever hear of
the old woman who poked her fire-spirit till he ran away and left her?"

"No!" cried the two mice. "Please tell us about her, Uncle."

"She was a very cross old woman," said Uncle Jack. "She lived all alone,
for she was so c