After rain!"'
The White Old Man had long finished singing, but Basil was still listening, longing for more; it pleased him so much.
'Basil, are you asleep?' suddenly asked the Red Old Man, in a low voice.
'Not yet, Mr. Old Man,' answered Basil.
'Do you wish to sleep?'
'I do.'
Here the Red Old Man yawned again very loudly; then the Lilac one yawned; and the White one did the same. Basil also yawned. But then it seemed as if he heard another yawn still louder than the others very near to him, somewhere above. Basil looked round and saw on the side rail of his bedstead, above his head, a fourth old man, who was dangling his legs. He much resembled the Lilac and White Men, but he was dressed in many colours.
The old man smiled, and strewed, as if in fun, many, many poppy petals on Basil.
Basil felt so very sleepy that he hardly could keep his eyes open; yet he wished very much to look at the new old man.
'Shut your eyes, and I will show you my pictures,' whispered the Many-Coloured Old Man, and poured a whole handful of poppies on Basil.