A Book for Kids Part 3

But--Crash! came rain before he could finish; and in two seconds everything was sopping wet. The noise of it was deafening,

"Why, it's a cloud-burst!" shouted the Blue-gum. "Half of my leaves have been stripped off already." Then he peered through the rain and the dark to see how the Little Red House was taking it. "Why, what's the matter with your face?" he cried. "You look awful."

"I'm crying!" sobbed the Little Red House. "That's all--just crying.

"Can't you see the tears?"

"Nonsense!" said the Blue-gum. "Those are not tears. It's just the rain-water running off your window-sills."

"I tell you I'm crying!" wailed the Little Red House. "I'm crying bitterly. I should know, shouldn't I? I'm shivering and crying because I'm cold and lonely and miserable."

"Oh, very well," agreed the Blue-gum. "You are crying. But if this rain doesn't stop soon, you'll cry the front path away. It certainly is wet."

Very late that night the rain eased a little and then stopped altogether. The tears ceased to run from the eyes of the Little Red House, and they now came only in drops, slower and slower, falling into the great pool by the front door.

"It's a hard world!" sobbed the Little Red House, squeezing out another tear.

"Listen!" cried the Big Blue-gum. "Do you hear THAT?"

From far away on the distant ranges came a dull, moaning sound. As they listened it grew louder, and right in the middle of of it came another sound--Thump!

"That's wind," said the Blue-gum; "and a big wind, too."

"Let it come!" sighed the Little Red House. "I couldn't be more miserable than I am."

As he spoke, the moaning grew louder, and there were three or four quite big thumps one after another.

"What's that thumping?" asked the little House.

"Those are my poor brothers," answered the big Blue-gum very sadly, "Those are trees going down before the big wind. The birds were bringing me messages from those poor fellows quite lately; and now I shall never hear from them again. It's very sad."

"I never thought the wind could blow down big trees," said the Little House.

"No tree knows when his time will come," the big Blue-gum answered gravely. "I've had some very narrow escapes in my time, as tree and sapling on this mountain."

The Little Red House was very quiet and thoughtful for a long time after that. Then he asked suddenly, "Which way do you think you would fall if you did fall?"

But the big Blue-gum said that he couldn't tell. It depended on the wind, and he might fall any way.

"Not on me!" cried the Little House.

The Blue-gum said that he didn't know; but he hoped not.

"If you DID fall on me," said the Little Red House, "I suppose it would hurt me."

The Blue-gum said it certainly would, and there would be very little left but splinters and gla.s.s.

"Then don't! Please don't," yelled the Little Red House.

But before they could say another word the great wind struck them with a roar. It tossed the roses about so that the eyebrows of the Little House seemed to be twitching horribly; and it swayed the big Blue-gum this way and that till he appeared to be fighting for his very life.

It picked up the fallen leaves and twigs, and even small stones, and hurled them down the mountain in a cloud.

In the midst of all the uproar the Little House heard the Blue-gum calling to him.

"As long as I've lived upon this mountain, tree and sapling," he shouted, "I've never known such a wind. I'm not so young as I used to be, and I fear that my end has come."

"Be brave! Oh, be brave!" implored the Little Red House. "Don't let him blow you down. I should be so sorry to lose you, What are you grunting for?"

"I'm not grunting," answered the Blue-gym in a pained voice. "Those are my roots giving way, one by one. I can't stand much more of this.

Look out!"

The Little Red House looked up, and what he saw terrified him. The big Blue-gum, in the clutch of the wind, was bent right over him, so that the top branches seemed to be just above his roof; and the great tree appeared to be falling, falling, helplessly.

"Don't fall on me!" shrieked the Little Red House. "Oh, don't fall on me; because, if you do, you know you'll squash me! I don't want to be squashed!"

But the big Blue-gum said, "There is just one little root holding now. If that gives way we are both done for."

"Be brave! Oh, be brave!" shrieked the Little Red House.

Then slowly, very slowly, the big Blue-gum began to straighten up again, away from the Little Red House.

"I have stood upon this mountain, tree and sapling, for over a hundred years," he said when he had recovered; "but if it blows like that again, it is the end of me."

But it did not blow like that again; though the wind howled and shrieked all that day as if it was very angry and disappointed that it could not blow down the big Blue-gum.

Then, towards evening, the wind fell; the heavy clouds went away beyond the edge of the sky, and all became very calm and peaceful.

The birds came from their hiding places and sat in the branches of the Blue-gum and chattered away to him, until he began to feel quite cheerful once more, in spite of his trouble. And when a certain little Tree-creeper--a very wise bird--came and had a long, serious talk with the Blue-gum, he became very much interested indeed and quite happy.

But the Little Red House was miserable still; and the beauty of the evening didn't cheer him up one bit.

"Ah, well," said the Blue-gum, when the darkness came to the mountain, "I am going to have a good sleep tonight. I'm a match still for old Daddy Wind, in spite of all his noise and bl.u.s.ter. And there are ways of dealing with white-ants, too. I've lived upon this mountain, tree and sapling, for--"

But as he was talking he fell fast asleep.

The Little Red House did not sleep. How could he, with his eyes wide open? So he just stood there all night staring before him, lonely and wretched. And when an owl came and sat in the tree and began to call, "Mopoke," the Little Red House told him rudely to stop his silly noise and clear out. That will just show you how very miserable he was.

It was quite late next morning when the Blue-gum awoke. He stretched his big limbs, and began to wonder what he might say to comfort the Little Red House. But when the Blue-gum looked down, he saw that the Little Red House was smiling all over his face.

"Well, now!" cried the big Blue-gum cheerfully. "That's the kind of face I like to see in the morning! So you've decided to be sensible and forget your loneliness?"

But the Little Red House didn't say a word. He just went on smiling.

Then the big Blue-gum began to get uneasy.

"I do hope your troubles haven't turned you silly," he said. "You haven't lost your senses, have you?"

"I?" cried the Little Red House. "Why, look down the valley! See who's coming!"

Down, far down, the valley, just coming through the white gate, were two figures that looked like tiny specks. And much nearer was another speck, which was certainly a little dog.