"I was so sleepy," said Bevis, "I did not know what you meant; you should have kissed me."
"So I did," said the wind. "I kissed you a hundred times out in the field, and stroked your hair, but you would not take any notice."
"I had so much to do," said Bevis; "there was the weasel and my cannon-stick."
"But I wanted you very much," said the wind, "because I love you, and longed for you to come and visit me."
"Well, now I am come," said Bevis. "But where do you live?"
"This is where I live, dear," said the wind. "I live upon the hill; sometimes I go to the sea, and sometimes to the woods, and sometimes I run through the valley, but I always come back here, and you may always be sure of finding me here; and I want you to come and romp with me."
"I will come," said Bevis; "I like a romp, but are you very rough?"
"Oh no, dear; not with you."
"I am a great big boy," said Bevis; "I am eating my peck of salt very fast: I shall soon get too big to romp with you. How old are you, you jolly Wind?"
The wind laughed and said: "I am older than all the very old things. I am as old as the brook."