“I wish I did; but I don’t,” replied Littlebrain, “I can recollect you, and not one other.”
Again the wind trembled with delight on his lips, and she proceeded:— “You know that there are thirty-two points on the compass, and these points are divided into quarters; so that there are, in fact, 128 different winds.”
“There are more than I could ever remember; I know that,” said Jack.
“Well, we are in all 128. All the winds which have northerly in them, are coarse and ugly; all the southern winds are pretty.”
“You don’t say so?” replied our hero.
“We are summoned to blow, as required, but the hardest duty generally falls to the northerly winds, as it should do, for they are the strongest; although we southerly winds can—blow hard enough when we choose. Our characters are somewhat different. The most unhappy in disposition, and I may say, the most malevolent, are the north and easterly winds; the North West winds are powerful, but not unkind; the South East winds vary, but, at all events, we of the South West are considered the mildest and most beneficent. Do you understand me?”
“Not altogether. You’re going right round the compass, and I never could make it out, that’s a fact. I hear what you say, but I cannot promise to recollect it; I can only recollect South West and by West three-quarters West.”
“I care only for your recollecting me; if you do that, you may forget all the rest. Now you see we South Wests are summer winds, and are seldom required but in this season; I have often blown over your ship these last three months, and I always have lingered near you, for I loved you.”
“Thank you—now go on, for seven bells have struck sometime, and I shall be going to turn in. Is your watch out?”
“No, I shall blow for some hours longer. Why will you leave me—why wo’n’t you stay on deck with me?”