"Oh!" ejaculated Paulina. "How can I get him home again?"
The Wind whistled for a short time, and then answered—
"By getting a palette, and brushes, and paint, and canvas, and becoming an artist. What is the use of wearing a blouse and long stockings, and having your hair tied with black ribbon, if you are not going to be an artist?"
V.
The Wind had gone away, the scroll with the sun's face drawn upon it had vanished, and Paulina was not where she had been a few moments before. She did not know where she was, and everything seemed to be going the wrong way; but she saw the Red Emperor resting upon a rosebush, so she felt that she was not without a friend.
"I've been waiting for hours," said the Red Emperor testily, "and so has the easel, also the paints and palette; and the canvas is stretched and the sketch made. You have nothing to do but to mount up to your seat, and fill in with colours. Shade away, beginning at the left corner, and make haste."
Paulina looked at the canvas, upon which was the outline of a figure reclining upon a rock. She was going to say she could not shade it, when the Red Emperor said sternly—
"No nonsense! Mount to the seat and paint as fast as you can, for if the painting is not finished before the stars come out, Peter will never come home again."
Paulina scrambled up; she took the palette in one hand, the brush in the other, and began to put on the colour as fast as she could. She did not take any pains, but dabbed away, beginning in the left-hand corner. She scarcely looked at what she was doing; but somehow or other it answered, and the picture progressed rapidly. Paulina herself was surprised, but she knew that she must lose no time, for the stars were only waiting for the twilight.
"The evening star, oh! don't let it come," said a very tiny little voice, that sounded like Peter's, a long way off; and it went on saying—