"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."