"He would like to," said the linnet. "He is tired of hanging up there with all that rain. But he has to wait till the wind comes for him."
"Good-bye," said the maiden-pink. "And thank you for the pleasant time we have had together. I can hold out no longer."
'GOOD-BYE,' SAID THE MAIDEN-PINK.
And then she died. All the friends looked at one another in dismay:
"We must get hold of the wind," said the hazel-bush, who had more life left in him than the others. "Else it will be all up with every one of us."
Next morning early, the wind came stealing along. He came quite slowly, for he too was tired of the intolerable dry heat; but he had to go his rounds for all that.
"Dear Wind," said the sheep's-scabious. "Bring us a little cloud, or we shall all be dead."
"There is no cloud," said the wind.