“Look at that, now,” cried Dick pettishly. “Did you ever see such a stupid, obstinate old wind in your life? It’s blowing everywhere but here.”
Will smiled so meaningly that Dick turned upon him.
“Why, what do you mean?” he cried.
“I’ll try and show you,” said Will. “Lie down here. It’s quite dry.”
Dick threw himself on the short soft turf, and Will pulled out a pocket-book, took the pencil from its loop, and, spreading the book wide, began after a fashion to draw what learned people call a diagram, but which we may more simply speak of as a sketch or figure of what he wished to explain.
It was very roughly done in straight lines, but sufficiently explanatory, especially as Will carefully followed the example of the sign-painter, who wrote underneath his artistic work, “This is a bear.”
Will began by drawing a horizontal line, and under it he wrote, “The sea.” Then he turned the horizontal line into a right angle by adding to it a perpendicular line, by which he wrote: “The cliff.” From the top of that perpendicular he drew another horizontal line, and above that he wrote, “Top of the cliff.”
“Now, then,” he said, “these little arrows stand for the wind blowing right across the sea till they come to the face of the cliff;” and he drew some horizontal arrows.
“Yes, I see,” said Dick, helping with a finger to keep down the fluttering leaves.
“Well; now the wind has got as far as the cliff. It can’t go through it, can it?”