"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, Mr. North Wind, if you are so particular, he is big
Diamond and I am little Diamond. And I do not know which of us my father
likes best!"

A beautiful laugh, soft and musical, sounded somewhere near him. But the
boy kept his head under the clothes.

"I am not Mr. North Wind," said the voice.

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

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

"Well, I _do_ say Mr. for my mother tells me always to be polite."

"Then let me tell you that I do not think it at all polite for you to
say Mr. to me," answered the voice.

"Isn't it? Well, I am sorry then."

"But you ought to know better," said the voice. "You can't think it is
polite to lie there with your head under the bed-clothes and never look
to see what kind of a person you are talking to! I want you to come out
with me."

"I want to go to sleep!" said Diamond.