"There are many things which you have not heard of," I replied, "and one seems to be that you are not to interrupt when other people are speaking."
Nibble hung his head and was silent.
"Well, his mother hearing those cries, came in, and on hearing the child's story she thought he had gone mad, and was very anxious about him. Still he cried and screamed for his diamond trousers; but suddenly, as he raised his hand to push away the chair on which the despised brown knickerbockers lay, he dropped the sea-flower! Instantly everything about Patty and the diamond trousers passed out of his mind like a flash of lightning, and looking up at his mother, he said: 'What was I crying about, Mamma? Isn't it time to get up?' And his mother said: 'Yes, my darling, it is high time to get up, and I think you have had the nightmare, Arthur dear.'
"So you see," I continued, "that it is not at all a wise thing to give the sea-flower to little people like you. But, bless me! here we are at the Mouse-trap again. Now, my mice, creep into your nests! say good-by to the little Winds, and thank them for blowing you so far, for they must be tired."
"Oh! thank you! thank you! dear little Winds!" cried the two mice. "We have had such a glorious ride, and we are so much obliged! and thank you too, dear Mr. Moonman! will you come every night, please, and tell us more wonderful things?"
"We will see about that!" I replied. "Every night is very often, and there are many other children who look for me. But I will come soon again, I promise you. Now good night, and a pleasant waking to you!" and as Whisk and I flew upward, we heard the seven little Winds singing softly, as they swung to and fro in the grape-vine outside the nursery window:
The birds may sleep, but the winds must wake
Early and late, for the birdies' sake;
Kissing them, fanning them, soft and sweet,
E'en till the dark and the dawning meet.
The flowers may sleep, but the winds must wake
Early and late, for the flowers' sake;
Rocking the buds on the rose-mother's breast,
Swinging the hyacinth-bells to rest.
The children may sleep, but the winds must wake
Early and late, for the children's sake;
Singing so sweet in each little one's ear,
He thinks his mother's own song to hear.