NANNY was not fit to be moved for some time yet, and Diamond went to see
her as often as he could. But being more regularly engaged now, seeing
he went out every day for a few hours with old Diamond, and had his baby
to mind, and one of the horses to attend to, he could not go so often as
he would have liked.
One evening, as he sat by her bedside, she said to him:
“I've had such a beautiful dream, Diamond! I should like to tell it
you.”
“Oh! do,” said Diamond; “I am so fond of dreams!”
“She must have been to the back of the north wind,” he said to himself.
“It was a very foolish dream, you know. But somehow it was so pleasant!
What a good thing it is that you believe the dream all the time you are
in it!”
My readers must not suppose that poor Nanny was able to say what she
meant so well as I put it down here. She had never been to school, and
had heard very little else than vulgar speech until she came to the
hospital. But I have been to school, and although that could never make
me able to dream so well as Nanny, it has made me able to tell her dream
better than she could herself. And I am the more desirous of doing this
for her that I have already done the best I could for Diamond's dream,
and it would be a shame to give the boy all the advantage.
“I will tell you all I know about it,” said Nanny. “The day before
yesterday, a lady came to see us--a very beautiful lady, and very
beautifully dressed. I heard the matron say to her that it was very
kind of her to come in blue and gold; and she answered that she knew
we didn't like dull colours. She had such a lovely shawl on, just like
redness dipped in milk, and all worked over with flowers of the same
colour. It didn't shine much, it was silk, but it kept in the shine.
When she came to my bedside, she sat down, just where you are sitting,
Diamond, and laid her hand on the counterpane. I was sitting up, with my
table before me ready for my tea. Her hand looked so pretty in its blue
glove, that I was tempted to stroke it. I thought she wouldn't be angry,
for everybody that comes to the hospital is kind. It's only in the
streets they ain't kind. But she drew her hand away, and I almost cried,
for I thought I had been rude. Instead of that, however, it was only
that she didn't like giving me her glove to stroke, for she drew it
off, and then laid her hand where it was before. I wasn't sure, but I
ventured to put out my ugly hand.”
“Your hand ain't ugly, Nanny,” said Diamond; but Nanny went on--
“And I stroked it again, and then she stroked mine,--think of that! And
there was a ring on her finger, and I looked down to see what it was
like. And she drew it off, and put it upon one of my fingers. It was a
red stone, and she told me they called it a ruby.”
“Oh, that is funny!” said Diamond. “Our new horse is called Ruby. We've
got another horse--a red one--such a beauty!”
But Nanny went on with her story.
“I looked at the ruby all the time the lady was talking to me,--it was
so beautiful! And as she talked I kept seeing deeper and deeper into the
stone. At last she rose to go away, and I began to pull the ring off
my finger; and what do you think she said?--'Wear it all night, if you
like. Only you must take care of it. I can't give it you, for some one
gave it to me; but you may keep it till to-morrow.' Wasn't it kind of
her? I could hardly take my tea, I was so delighted to hear it; and I
do think it was the ring that set me dreaming; for, after I had taken my
tea, I leaned back, half lying and half sitting, and looked at the ring
on my finger. By degrees I began to dream. The ring grew larger and
larger, until at last I found that I was not looking at a red stone, but
at a red sunset, which shone in at the end of a long street near where
Grannie lives. I was dressed in rags as I used to be, and I had great
holes in my shoes, at which the nasty mud came through to my feet. I
didn't use to mind it before, but now I thought it horrid. And there was
the great red sunset, with streaks of green and gold between, standing
looking at me. Why couldn't I live in the sunset instead of in that
dirt? Why was it so far away always? Why did it never come into our
wretched street? It faded away, as the sunsets always do, and at last
went out altogether. Then a cold wind began to blow, and flutter all my
rags about----”
“That was North Wind herself,” said Diamond.
“Eh?” said Nanny, and went on with her story.
“I turned my back to it, and wandered away. I did not know where I was
going, only it was warmer to go that way. I don't think it was a north
wind, for I found myself in the west end at last. But it doesn't matter
in a dream which wind it was.”
“I don't know that,” said Diamond. “I believe North Wind can get into
our dreams--yes, and blow in them. Sometimes she has blown me out of a
dream altogether.”
“I don't know what you mean, Diamond,” said Nanny.
“Never mind,” answered Diamond. “Two people can't always understand each
other. They'd both be at the back of the north wind directly, and what
would become of the other places without them?”
“You do talk so oddly!” said Nanny. “I sometimes think they must have
been right about you.”
“What did they say about me?” asked Diamond.
“They called you God's baby.”
“How kind of them! But I knew that.”
“Did you know what it meant, though? It meant that you were not right in
the head.”
“I feel all right,” said Diamond, putting both hands to his head, as if
it had been a globe he could take off and set on again.
“Well, as long as you are pleased I am pleased,” said Nanny.
“Thank you, Nanny. Do go on with your story. I think I like dreams even
better than fairy tales. But they must be nice ones, like yours, you
know.”
“Well, I went on, keeping my back to the wind, until I came to a fine
street on the top of a hill. How it happened I don't know, but the front
door of one of the houses was open, and not only the front door, but the
back door as well, so that I could see right through the house--and
what do you think I saw? A garden place with green grass, and the moon
shining upon it! Think of that! There was no moon in the street, but
through the house there was the moon. I looked and there was nobody
near: I would not do any harm, and the grass was so much nicer than the
mud! But I couldn't think of going on the grass with such dirty shoes: I
kicked them off in the gutter, and ran in on my bare feet, up the steps,
and through the house, and on to the grass; and the moment I came into
the moonlight, I began to feel better.”
“That's why North Wind blew you there,” said Diamond.
“It came of Mr. Raymond's story about Princess Daylight,” returned
Nanny. “Well, I lay down upon the grass in the moonlight without
thinking how I was to get out again. Somehow the moon suited me exactly.
There was not a breath of the north wind you talk about; it was quite
gone.”
“You didn't want her any more, just then. She never goes where she's not
wanted,” said Diamond. “But she blew you into the moonlight, anyhow.”
“Well, we won't dispute about it,” said Nanny: “you've got a tile loose,
you know.”
“Suppose I have,” returned Diamond, “don't you see it may let in the
moonlight, or the sunlight for that matter?”
“Perhaps yes, perhaps no,” said Nanny.
“And you've got your dreams, too, Nanny.”
“Yes, but I know they're dreams.”
“So do I. But I know besides they are something more as well.”
“Oh! do you?” rejoined Nanny. “I don't.”
“All right,” said Diamond. “Perhaps you will some day.”
“Perhaps I won't,” said Nanny.
Diamond held his peace, and Nanny resumed her story.
“I lay a long time, and the moonlight got in at every tear in my
clothes, and made me feel so happy----”
“There, I tell you!” said Diamond.
“What do you tell me?” returned Nanny.
“North Wind----”
“It was the moonlight, I tell you,” persisted Nanny, and again Diamond
held his peace.
“All at once I felt that the moon was not shining so strong. I looked
up, and there was a cloud, all crapey and fluffy, trying to drown the
beautiful creature. But the moon was so round, just like a whole plate,
that the cloud couldn't stick to her. She shook it off, and said there
and shone out clearer and brighter than ever. But up came a thicker
cloud,--and 'You shan't,' said the moon; and 'I will,' said the
cloud,--but it couldn't: out shone the moon, quite laughing at its
impudence. I knew her ways, for I've always been used to watch her.
She's the only thing worth looking at in our street at night.”
“Don't call it your street,” said Diamond. “You're not going back to it.
You're coming to us, you know.”
“That's too good to be true,” said Nanny.
“There are very few things good enough to be true,” said Diamond; “but
I hope this is. Too good to be true it can't be. Isn't true good? and
isn't good good? And how, then, can anything be too good to be true?
That's like old Sal--to say that.”
“Don't abuse Grannie, Diamond. She's a horrid old thing, she and her gin
bottle; but she'll repent some day, and then you'll be glad not to have
said anything against her.”
“Why?” said Diamond.
“Because you'll be sorry for her.”
“I am sorry for her now.”
“Very well. That's right. She'll be sorry too. And there'll be an end of
it.”
“All right. You come to us,” said Diamond.
“Where was I?” said Nanny.
“Telling me how the moon served the clouds.”
“Yes. But it wouldn't do, all of it. Up came the clouds and the clouds,
and they came faster and faster, until the moon was covered up. You
couldn't expect her to throw off a hundred of them at once--could you?”
“Certainly not,” said Diamond.
“So it grew very dark; and a dog began to yelp in the house. I
looked and saw that the door to the garden was shut. Presently it was
opened--not to let me out, but to let the dog in--yelping and bounding.
I thought if he caught sight of me, I was in for a biting first, and the
police after. So I jumped up, and ran for a little summer-house in the
corner of the garden. The dog came after me, but I shut the door in his
face. It was well it had a door--wasn't it?”
“You dreamed of the door because you wanted it,” said Diamond.
“No, I didn't; it came of itself. It was there, in the true dream.”
“There--I've caught you!” said Diamond. “I knew you believed in the
dream as much as I do.”
“Oh, well, if you will lay traps for a body!” said Nanny. “Anyhow, I was
safe inside the summer-house. And what do you think?--There was the moon
beginning to shine again--but only through one of the panes--and that
one was just the colour of the ruby. Wasn't it funny?”
“No, not a bit funny,” said Diamond.
“If you will be contrary!” said Nanny.
“No, no,” said Diamond; “I only meant that was the very pane I should
have expected her to shine through.”
“Oh, very well!” returned Nanny.
What Diamond meant, I do not pretend to say. He had curious notions
about things.
“And now,” said Nanny, “I didn't know what to do, for the dog kept
barking at the door, and I couldn't get out. But the moon was so
beautiful that I couldn't keep from looking at it through the red pane.
And as I looked it got larger and larger till it filled the whole pane
and outgrew it, so that I could see it through the other panes; and
it grew till it filled them too and the whole window, so that the
summer-house was nearly as bright as day.
“The dog stopped barking, and I heard a gentle tapping at the door, like
the wind blowing a little branch against it.”
“Just like her,” said Diamond, who thought everything strange and
beautiful must be done by North Wind.
“So I turned from the window and opened the door; and what do you think
I saw?”
“A beautiful lady,” said Diamond.
“No--the moon itself, as big as a little house, and as round as a ball,
shining like yellow silver. It stood on the grass--down on the very
grass: I could see nothing else for the brightness of it: And as I
stared and wondered, a door opened in the side of it, near the ground,
and a curious little old man, with a crooked thing over his shoulder,
looked out, and said: 'Come along, Nanny; my lady wants you. We're come
to fetch you.” I wasn't a bit frightened. I went up to the beautiful
bright thing, and the old man held down his hand, and I took hold of it,
and gave a jump, and he gave me a lift, and I was inside the moon. And
what do you think it was like? It was such a pretty little house, with
blue windows and white curtains! At one of the windows sat a beautiful
lady, with her head leaning on her hand, looking out. She seemed rather
sad, and I was sorry for her, and stood staring at her.
“`You didn't think I had such a beautiful mistress as that!' said the
queer little man. `No, indeed!' I answered: `who would have thought it?'
`Ah! who indeed? But you see you don't know everything.' The little man
closed the door, and began to pull at a rope which hung behind it with
a weight at the end. After he had pulled a while, he said--`There, that
will do; we're all right now.' Then he took me by the hand and opened a
little trap in the floor, and led me down two or three steps, and I saw
like a great hole below me. `Don't be frightened,' said the tittle
man. `It's not a hole. It's only a window. Put your face down and
look through.' I did as he told me, and there was the garden and the
summer-house, far away, lying at the bottom of the moonlight. `There!'
said the little man; `we've brought you off! Do you see the little
dog barking at us down there in the garden?' I told him I couldn't see
anything so far. `Can you see anything so small and so far off?' I said.
`Bless you, child!' said the little man; `I could pick up a needle out
of the grass if I had only a long enough arm. There's one lying by the
door of the summer-house now.' I looked at his eyes. They were very
small, but so bright that I think he saw by the light that went out of
them. Then he took me up, and up again by a little stair in a corner of
the room, and through another trapdoor, and there was one great round
window above us, and I saw the blue sky and the clouds, and such lots of
stars, all so big and shining as hard as ever they could!”
“The little girl-angels had been polishing them,” said Diamond.
“What nonsense you do talk!” said Nanny.
“But my nonsense is just as good as yours, Nanny. When you have done,
I'll tell you my dream. The stars are in it--not the moon, though. She
was away somewhere. Perhaps she was gone to fetch you then. I don't
think that, though, for my dream was longer ago than yours. She might
have been to fetch some one else, though; for we can't fancy it's only
us that get such fine things done for them. But do tell me what came
next.”
Perhaps one of my child-readers may remember whether the moon came down
to fetch him or her the same night that Diamond had his dream. I cannot
tell, of course. I know she did not come to fetch me, though I did think
I could make her follow me when I was a boy--not a very tiny one either.
“The little man took me all round the house, and made me look out of
every window. Oh, it was beautiful! There we were, all up in the air, in
such a nice, clean little house! `Your work will be to keep the windows
bright,' said the little man. `You won't find it very difficult,
for there ain't much dust up here. Only, the frost settles on them
sometimes, and the drops of rain leave marks on them.' `I can easily
clean them inside,' I said; `but how am I to get the frost and rain off
the outside of them?' `Oh!' he said, `it's quite easy. There are ladders
all about. You've only got to go out at the door, and climb about. There
are a great many windows you haven't seen yet, and some of them look
into places you don't know anything about. I used to clean them myself,
but I'm getting rather old, you see. Ain't I now?' `I can't tell,' I
answered. `You see I never saw you when you were younger.' `Never saw
the man in the moon?' said he. `Not very near,' I answered, `not to tell
how young or how old he looked. I have seen the bundle of sticks on his
back.' For Jim had pointed that out to me. Jim was very fond of looking
at the man in the moon. Poor Jim! I wonder he hasn't been to see me. I'm
afraid he's ill too.”
“I'll try to find out,” said Diamond, “and let you know.”
“Thank you,” said Nanny. “You and Jim ought to be friends.”
“But what did the man in the moon say, when you told him you had seen
him with the bundle of sticks on his back?”
“He laughed. But I thought he looked offended too. His little nose
turned up sharper, and he drew the corners of his mouth down from the
tips of his ears into his neck. But he didn't look cross, you know.”
“Didn't he say anything?”
“Oh, yes! He said: `That's all nonsense. What you saw was my bundle of
dusters. I was going to clean the windows. It takes a good many, you
know. Really, what they do say of their superiors down there!' `It's
only because they don't know better,' I ventured to say. `Of course,
of course,' said the little man. `Nobody ever does know better. Well,
I forgive them, and that sets it all right, I hope.' `It's very good
of you,' I said. `No!' said he, `it's not in the least good of me. I
couldn't be comfortable otherwise.' After this he said nothing for a
while, and I laid myself on the floor of his garret, and stared up and
around at the great blue beautifulness. I had forgotten him almost,
when at last he said: `Ain't you done yet?' `Done what?' I asked. `Done
saying your prayers,' says he. 'I wasn't saying my prayers,' I answered.
`Oh, yes, you were,' said he, `though you didn't know it! And now I must
show you something else.'
“He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through a narrow
passage, and through another, and another, and another. I don't know
how there could be room for so many passages in such a little house. The
heart of it must be ever so much farther from the sides than they are
from each other. How could it have an inside that was so independent of
its outside? There's the point. It was funny--wasn't it, Diamond?”
“No,” said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much the sort
of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked himself and only
added, “All right. I don't see it. I don't see why the inside should
depend on the outside. It ain't so with the crabs. They creep out of
their outsides and make new ones. Mr. Raymond told me so.”
“I don't see what that has got to do with it,” said Nanny.
“Then go on with your story, please,” said Diamond. “What did you come
to, after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the
moon?”
“I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long and
narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners.”
“That's worth knowing,” remarked Diamond. “For who knows how soon he may
have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?”
“We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man
told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something
like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is
it?' I asked. `Don't you know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,'
I answered. `Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never
heard bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's
bees,' he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers.
`But where are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees gather
their honey from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. `Do let
me see them,' I said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. `I have no
business with them. I don't understand them. Besides, they are so bright
that if one were to fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.'
`Then you have seen them?' `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't
quite know: they are so very bright--like buttons of lightning. Now
I've showed you all I can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' I
followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from the
roof, and gave me some bread and honey.
“The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her
hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white
cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I
could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very
still, and her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I
did not see her whole face--only the side of it, for she never moved to
turn it full upon me, or even to look at me.
“How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. The
little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string
there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking
with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and
clean the windows, and I didn't fancy the job. At last he came up to me
with a great armful of dusters. `It's time you set about the windows,'
he said; `for there's rain coming, and if they're quite clean before,
then the rain can't spoil them.' I got up at once. `You needn't be
afraid,' he said. `You won't tumble off. Only you must be careful.
Always hold on with one hand while you rub with the other.' As he spoke,
he opened the door. I started back in a terrible fright, for there was
nothing but blue air to be seen under me, like a great water without a
bottom at all. But what must be must, and to live up here was so much
nicer than down in the mud with holes in my shoes, that I never thought
of not doing as I was told. The little man showed me how and where to
lay hold while I put my foot round the edge of the door on to the first
round of a ladder. `Once you're up,' he said, `you'll see how you have
to go well enough.' I did as he told me, and crept out very carefully.
Then the little man handed me the bundle of dusters, saying, `I always
carry them on my reaping hook, but I don't think you could manage it
properly. You shall have it if you like.' I wouldn't take it, however,
for it looked dangerous.
“I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the top
of the moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars were all over my
head, so bright and so near that I could almost have laid hold of them.
The round ball to which I clung went bobbing and floating away through
the dark blue above and below and on every side. It was so beautiful
that all fear left me, and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window
after window. At length I came to a very little one, in at which I
peeped. There was the room with the box of bees in it! I laid my ear to
the window, and heard the musical hum quite distinctly. A great longing
to see them came upon me, and I opened the window and crept in.
The little box had a door like a closet. I opened it--the tiniest
crack--when out came the light with such a sting that I closed it again
in terror--not, however, before three bees had shot out into the room,
where they darted about like flashes of lightning. Terribly frightened,
I tried to get out of the window again, but I could not: there was no
way to the outside of the moon but through the door; and that was in
the room where the lady sat. No sooner had I reached the room, than the
three bees, which had followed me, flew at once to the lady, and settled
upon her hair. Then first I saw her move. She started, put up her hand,
and caught them; then rose and, having held them into the flame of the
lamp one after the other, turned to me. Her face was not so sad now as
stern. It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me into trouble,' she
said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is all I can do to
manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great loss, and there
will be a storm.' As she spoke, the clouds had gathered all about us. I
could see them come crowding up white about the windows. `I am sorry to
find,' said the lady, `that you are not to be trusted. You must go home
again--you won't do for us.' Then came a great clap of thunder, and the
moon rocked and swayed. All grew dark about me, and I fell on the floor
and lay half-stunned. I could hear everything but could see nothing.
`Shall I throw her out of the door, my lady?' said the little man.
`No,' she answered; `she's not quite bad enough for that. I don't think
there's much harm in her; only she'll never do for us. She would make
dreadful mischief up here. She's only fit for the mud. It's a great
pity. I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly
afraid she has stolen it.' The little man caught hold of my hand, and I
felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was true about it,
but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. Other things began to
come into my head. Somebody else had a hold of me. The little man wasn't
there. I opened my eyes at last, and saw the nurse. I had cried out in
my sleep, and she had come and waked me. But, Diamond, for all it was
only a dream, I cannot help being ashamed of myself yet for opening the
lady's box of bees.”
“You wouldn't do it again--would you--if she were to take you back?”
said Diamond.
“No. I don't think anything would ever make me do it again. But where's
the good? I shall never have the chance.”
“I don't know that,” said Diamond.
“You silly baby! It was only a dream,” said Nanny.
“I know that, Nanny, dear. But how can you tell you mayn't dream it
again?”
“That's not a bit likely.”
“I don't know that,” said Diamond.
“You're always saying that,” said Nanny. “I don't like it.”
“Then I won't say it again--if I don't forget.” said Diamond. “But it
was such a beautiful dream!--wasn't it, Nanny? What a pity you opened
that door and let the bees out! You might have had such a long dream,
and such nice talks with the moon-lady. Do try to go again, Nanny. I do
so want to hear more.”
But now the nurse came and told him it was time to go; and Diamond went,
saying to himself, “I can't help thinking that North Wind had something
to do with that dream. It would be tiresome to lie there all day and all
night too--without dreaming. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, the moon
might have carried her to the back of the north wind--who knows?”