Seven O'Clock Stories Part 28
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And again he pointed to the shadow on the wall.
"The Giant Northwind has got in our house!"
But the Toyman only laughed, hugging him tighter.
"That's not old Northwind, that's only my shadow," he explained.
Then Marmaduke laughed too.
"Tell me a story, Toyman," he asked, "'bout that ole Giant Northwind."
"It might scare you," the Toyman answered.
Marmaduke only shook his head.
"Nothing makes me scared when I'm _here_," he said. He wasn't afraid of giants, or ogres, or wild animals, or anything, when he was safe in the Toyman's arms.
For a while he looked up into his face. The Toyman's hair stood up, all funny and rough. He was always running his fingers through it. His face had wrinkles like hard seams, and it was as brown as saddle leather from working outdoors. But Marmaduke thought that nowhere in the world was there so kind a face, except his Mother's.
The Toyman put down his corncob pipe and began:
"Once upon a time, long time ago, before your mother was born, or your grandmother, or your great-grandmother either, there was a King. He was King of all the Winds. And he lived in a great big cave up in a high mountain."
"Was the mountain as high as the church steeple?" asked Marmaduke.
"Oh, higher than that--as high as a lot of church steeples, stuck one on top of another," the Toyman explained.
"Sometimes the King of the Winds took a little snooze in his cave, and then everything was quiet. But when he woke up he would go out of his cave, raisin' ructions all over the world.
"There was a lot of work for him to do, east and west, south and north. He tossed the branches of the trees and made 'em crack, and he made the waves in the ocean turn somersaults, and blew the wooden s.h.i.+ps across the sea, and chased the cloud-s.h.i.+ps across the sky.
"And he had a lot of little ch.o.r.es too, like drying the clothes on Mondays, and waving the flags on Fourth of July, and sailing little boy's kites high in the air.
"When the King of the Winds was a young fellow, it was all great fun. But after a while the trees grew bigger and bigger, and the s.h.i.+ps taller and taller, and there were so many clouds that he got very tired. He was getting pretty old and he ached in all of his bones.
"So he said to himself, said he:
"'I'll let the kiddies do the work, and rest for a spell in my cave on the mountains.'
"There were four of 'em--two boys and two girls--and each had a name, of course. Southwind and Westwind were the girls, Eastwind and Northwind the boys, two strapping big fellows.
"So he called his children together and sat in the door of his cave.
"First he took a big pinch o' snuff. That was a very bad habit folks had in those days.
"_Kerchoo_! he sneezed, and blew two big clouds out of the sky.
"_Kerchoo_!!! he sneezed again, and turned upside down a whole fleet of s.h.i.+ps in the ocean.
"_Kerchoooooo_!!!! he sneezed a third time, and blew off the roofs from all the houses in the city, a hundred miles away.
"When he was all through his sneezing he said to his children:
"'Get ye out to the four corners of the earth and take up my business.'
"Now for a cane the old King used a tree with the branches pulled off. He picked it up and pointed to the south.
"'Southwind, you go there.'
"She was a pretty little thing, with blue eyes and roses in her hair. And she answered him sweet as you please, 'All right, Daddy,' and out she danced.
"Then with the big tree cane, the old King pointed to the west.
"'Westwind, there is your place,' he said.
"A very pretty girl too was Westwind, with kind eyes and a soft smile. Her voice was soft and low, and she answered in a whisper:
"'Good-bye, Daddy dear.'
"She kissed him on the forehead, and floated away to her new home in the west.
"Then the two boys came before the old King. The big tree cane pointed east.
"'Get to work over there, Eastwind,' commanded the old King.
"Now Eastwind was a strong fellow, but he was surly and cross and he didn't obey very quickly. So his father the King picked up his tree cane in a rage and whacked him across the s.h.i.+ns, and out Eastwind ran, crying and yelling till the trees of the forests sobbed too. And he cried so hard that rivers of tears ran from his eyes and over the earth.
"Once more the old King picked up his big tree cane, and said to the eldest of his sons:
"'Northwind, your home is right here in the North.'
"Bigger even than his brother was Northwind. Strong were his muscles, and his whiskers and hair were covered with icicles. When he breathed, millions of snowflakes danced from his mouth.
"_Brrrrrrr_!! how one s.h.i.+vered when he was around.
"Then the old King's hand trembled and the big cane dropped to the floor.
He laid him down in the cavern and breathed his last. He had been a great King but he was deader than a doornail now.
"So his four children took up his work.
"Up and down the south country wandered Southwind, with her rosebud mouth and golden hair. And wherever she went she scattered posies and violets upon the earth.
"Back and forth over her country floated Westwind with her soft smile and gentle voice. She whispered lullabies to little children, and laid cool hands on sick people's foreheads. She blew little boy's kites up ever so high above the church steeple, and tried never to break them. And she blew the white s.h.i.+ps gently across the ocean. Folks liked to travel the waters whenever she was about.
"But they didn't like Eastwind very much. Sometimes he was all right, but usually he was bent on mischief, making trouble for every man Jack.
The seas he would tumble about, turn over the s.h.i.+ps, and drown the poor sailors. He would call his grey clouds together and they would weep till the rivers were full. Then he would blow the rivers over the banks, and spoil the gardens, and break the bridges, and drown the poor sheep, and all the rest of the animals too.
"But the most cruel of all was Giant Northwind. Where his heart ought to be was a chunk of ice. Sometimes he was pleasant enough, but most often he was hard and unkind. He would breathe on people, and freeze their noses and toeses, and leave many a poor fellow stiff on the snow.
Seven O'Clock Stories Part 28
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Seven O'Clock Stories Part 28 summary
You're reading Seven O'Clock Stories Part 28. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Robert Gordon Anderson already has 652 views.
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