“Why, certainly I did. I saw you having such a stupid time with a geography lesson which I knew I could make so easy for you that I said to myself: ‘I’ll just wait until I have him all to myself and then I’ll show him!’”
“That was very kind of you,” said Billy, “and I am sure that I shall never forget anything I have seen.”
“That’s just the way with me,” said Nimbus; “so what I saw of the Cloud children I will tell to you, and then it will be just the same as if you had seen it.”
“So it will,” said Billy, who by this time had got to have great faith in the Geography Fairy.
“What do you suppose makes it rain?” asked Nimbus suddenly.
Billy thought intently for a moment. He knew he had heard something about clouds and mist and heat and cold, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember when anybody asked him. That is what makes examinations so hard. You know, but you can’t remember.
“Ah, ha!” said Nimbus. “You can’t think, can you? Well, I’ll tell you, and you’ll never forget this reason. The other day, when their mothers were all sitting and sewing, the Cloud children——”
“What are their names?” asked Billy.
“Well, there happened to be Pinkie Pink-Cloud and Goldie Gold-Cloud and Pearlie Pearl-Cloud. They asked their mothers if they could float over Central Park and watch the Earth children at play. Their mothers said yes, so away they went. At first it was great fun to watch, for it was Mayday and all the children were marching about in their pretty white dresses while nursemaids and fräuleins and mademoiselles by the dozen, and a few mothers, were looking on.
“Then Pinkie and Goldie and Pearlie began to play tag among themselves, nor was it very long before Pinkie said that Goldie did not tag her when she said she did, and Pearlie took sides; so in one moment those little sunny faces grew black with anger and presently they began to cry as hard as ever they could.”