bushes with his crook, but
they did not mind in the least, they were so glad to see him.

He whistled to the butterfly to stop a moment while he picked a
blackberry; the butterfly settled on a leaf. Then away they went again
together till they left the wood behind and began to go up the hill.
There the butterfly grew restless, and could scarce restrain his pace
for Bevis to keep up, as they were now in the sunshine. Bevis raced
after as fast as he could go uphill, but at the top the butterfly
thought he saw a friend of his, and telling Bevis that somebody would
come to him in a minute, away he flew. Bevis looked round, but it was
all strange and new to him; there were hills all round, but there was no
waggon, and no old trench or rampart; nothing but the blue sky and the
great sun, which did not seem far off.

While he wondered which way to go, the wind came along the ridge, and
taking him softly by the ear pushed him gently forward and said: "Bevis,
my love, I have been waiting for you ever so long; why did you not come
before?"

"Because you never asked me," said Bevis.

"Oh yes, I did; I asked you twenty times in the copse. I beckoned to you
out of the great oak, under which you went to sleep; and I whispered to
you from the fir-trees where the squirrel played, but you were so busy,
dear, so busy with Kapchack, and the war, and Choo Hoo, and the court,
and all the turmoil, that you did not hear me."

"You should have called louder," said Bevis.

"So I did," said the wind. "Don't you remember I whirled the little
bough against your window, and rattled the casement that night you saw
the owl go by?"

"I was so sleepy," said Bevis, "I did not know what you meant; you
should have kissed me."

"So I did," said the wind. "I kissed you a hundred times out in the
field, and stroked your hair, but you would not take any notice."

"I had so much to do," said Bevis; "there was the weasel and my
cannon-stick."

"But I wanted you very much," said the wind, "because I love you, and
longed for you to come and visit me."

"Well, now I am come," said Bevis. "But where do you live?"

"This is where I live, dear," said the wind. "I live upon the hill;
sometimes I go to the sea, and sometimes to the woods, and sometimes I
run through the valley, but I always come back here, and you may always
be sure of finding me here; and I want you to come and romp with me."

"I will come," said Bevis; "I like a romp, but are you very