pump water for thirsty folks and grind corn for hungry folks;
she had blown away all the smoke from tall chimneys and engines
and steamboats. Yes, indeed, Old Mother West Wind had been very,
very busy.

Now she was coming across the Green Meadows on her way to her
home behind the Purple Hills, and as she came she opened the big
bag she carried and called to her children, the Merry Little
Breezes, who had been playing hard on the Green Meadows all the
long day. One by one they crept into the big bag, for they were
tired, too, and ready to go to their home behind the Purple
Hills.

Pretty soon all were in the bag but one, a willful little Breeze,
who was not quite ready to go home; he wanted to play just a
little longer. He danced ahead of Old Mother West Wind. He kissed
the sleepy daisies. He shook the nodding buttercups. He set all
the little poplar leaves a dancing, too, and he wouldn't come
into the big bag. So Old Mother West Wind closed the big bag and
slung it over her shoulder. Then she started on towards her home
behind the Purple Hills.

When she had gone, the willful little Breeze left behind suddenly
felt very lonely--very lonely indeed! The sleepy daisies didn't
want to play. The nodding buttercups were cross. Great round
bright Mr. Sun, who had been shining and shining all day long,
went to bed and put on his night cap of golden clouds. Black
shadows came creeping, creeping out into the Green Meadows.

The willful little Breeze began to wish that he was safe in Old