is little naked
chest. He scrambled and tumbled in under the bedclothes, and covered
himself up: there was no paper now between him and the voice, and he
felt a little--not frightened exactly--I told you he had not learned
that yet--but rather queer; for what a strange person this North Wind
must be that lived in the great house--"called Out-of-Doors, I suppose,"
thought Diamond--and made windows into people's beds! But the voice
began again; and he could hear it quite plainly, even with his head
under the bed-clothes. It was a still more gentle voice now, although
six times as large and loud as it had been, and he thought it sounded a
little like his mother's.

"What is your name, little boy?" it asked.

"Diamond," answered Diamond, under the bed-clothes.

"What a funny name!"

"It's a very nice name," returned its owner.

"I don't know that," said the voice.

"Well, I do," retorted Diamond, a little rudely.

"Do you know to whom you are speaking!"

"No," said Diamond.

And indeed he did not. For to know a person's name is not always to know
the person's self.

"Then I must not be angry with you.--You had better look and see,
though."

"Diamond is a very pretty name," persisted the boy, vexed that it should
not give satisfaction.

"Diamond is a useless thing rather," said the voice.

"That's not true. Diamond is very nice--as big as two--and so quiet all
night! And doesn't he make a jolly row in the morning, getting upon his
four great legs! It's like thunder."

"You don't seem to know what a diamond is."

"Oh, don't I just! Diamond is a great and good horse; and he sleeps
right under me. He is old Diamond, and I am young Diamond; or, if you
like it better, for you're very particular, Mr. North Wind, he's big
Diamond, and I'm little Diamond; and I don't know which of us my father
likes best."

A beautiful laugh, large but very soft and musical, sounded somewhere
beside him, but Diamond kept his head under the clothes.

"I'm not Mr. North Wind," said the voice.

"You told me that you were the North Wind," insisted Diamond.

"I did not say Mister North Wind," said the voice.

"Well, then, I do; for mother tells me I ought to be polite."

"Then let me tell you I don't think it at all polite of you to say
Mister to me."

"Well, I didn't know better. I'm very sorry."

"But you ought to know better."

"I don't know that."

"I do. You can't say it's polite to lie there talking--with your head