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think I know。 She had heard something at church the day before；
which came back upon hersomething like this； that she hadn't
to eat for tomorrow as well as for to…day； and that what was not
wanted couldn't be missed。 So； instead of saying anything more；
she stretched out her hand for the basket； and she and Diamond had
their dinner。
And Diamond did enjoy it。 For the drive and the fresh air had made
him quite hungry； and he did not； like his mother； trouble himself
about what they should dine off that day week。 The fact was he had
lived so long without any food at all at the back of the north wind；
that he knew quite well that food was not essential to existence；
that in fact； under certain circumstances； people could live without
it well enough。
His mother did not speak much during their dinner。 After it was
over she helped him to walk about a little； but he was not able
for much and soon got tired。 He did not get fretful； though。
He was too glad of having the sun and the wind again； to fret
because he could not run about。 He lay down on the dry sand；
and his mother covered him with a shawl。 She then sat by his side；
and took a bit of work from her pocket。 But Diamond felt rather
sleepy； and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the sand。
A few yards off he saw something fluttering。
〃What is that； mother？〃 he said。
〃Only a bit of paper；〃 she answered。
〃It flutters more than a bit of paper would； I think；〃 said Diamond。
〃I'll go and see if you like；〃 said his mother。 〃My eyes are none
of the best。〃
So she rose and went and found that they were both right； for it
was a little book； partly buried in the sand。 But several of its
leaves were clear of the sand； and these the wind kept blowing about
in a very flutterful manner。 She took it up and brought it to Diamond。
〃What is it； mother？〃 he asked。
〃Some nursery rhymes； I think；〃 she answered。
〃I'm too sleepy；〃 said Diamond。 〃Do read some of them to me。〃
〃Yes； I will；〃 she said； and began one。〃But this is such nonsense！〃
she said again。 〃I will try to find a better one。〃
She turned the leaves searching； but three times； with sudden puffs；
the wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses。
〃Do read that one；〃 said Diamond； who seemed to be of the same mind
as the wind。 〃It sounded very nice。 I am sure it is a good one。〃
So his mother thought it might amuse him； though she couldn't
find any sense in it。 She never thought he might understand it；
although she could not。
Now I do not exactly know what the mother read； but this is
what Diamond heard； or thought afterwards that he had heard。
He was； however； as I have said； very sleepy。 And when he thought he
understood the verses he may have been only dreaming better ones。
This is how they went
I know a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the
shallows dumb in the hollows sleeping so deep and all the swallows
that dip their feathers in the hollows or in the shallows are the
merriest swallows of all for the nests they bake with the clay they
cake with the water they shake from their wings that rake the water
out of the shallows or the hollows will hold together in any weather
and so the swallows are the merriest fellows and have the merriest
children and are built so narrow like the head of an arrow to cut
the air and go just where the nicest water is flowing and the nicest
dust is blowing for each so narrow like head of an arrow is only
a barrow to carry the mud he makes from the nicest water flowing
and the nicest dust that is blowing to build his nest for her he
loves best with the nicest cakes which the sunshine bakes all for
their merry children all so callow with beaks that follow gaping
and hollow wider and wider after their father or after their mother
the food…provider who brings them a spider or a worm the poor hider
down in the earth so there's no dearth for their beaks as yellow
as the buttercups growing beside the flowing of the singing river
always and ever growing and blowing for fast as the sheep awake
or asleep crop them and crop them they cannot stop them but up they
creep and on they go blowing and so with the daisies the little
white praises they grow and they blow and they spread out their
crown and they praise the sun and when he goes down their praising
is done and they fold up their crown and they sleep every one till
over the plain he's shining amain and they're at it again praising
and praising such low songs raising that no one hears them but the sun
who rears them and the sheep that bite them are the quietest sheep
awake or asleep with the merriest bleat and the little lambs are
the merriest lambs they forget to eat for the frolic in their feet
and the lambs and their dams are the whitest sheep with the woolliest
wool and the longest wool and the trailingest tails and they shine
like snow in the grasses that grow by the singing river that sings
for ever and the sheep and the lambs are merry for ever because the
river sings and they drink it and the lambs and their dams are quiet
and white because of their diet for what they bite is buttercups
yellow and daisies white and grass as green as the river can make
it with wind as mellow to kiss it and shake it as never was seen
but here in the hollows beside the river where all the swallows
are merriest of fellows for the nests they make with the clay they
cake in the sunshine bake till they are like bone as dry in the wind
as a marble stone so firm they bind the grass in the clay that dries
in the wind the sweetest wind that blows by the river flowing
for ever but never you find whence comes the wind that blows on
the hollows and over the shallows where dip the swallows alive it
blows the life as it goes awake or asleep into the river that sings
as it flows and the life it blows into the sheep awake or asleep
with the woolliest wool and the trailingest tails and it never fails
gentle and cool to wave the wool and to toss the grass as the lambs
and the sheep over it pass and tug and bite with their teeth
so white and then with the sweep of their trailing tails smooth
it again and it grows amain and amain it grows and the wind as it
blows tosses the swallows over the hollows and down on the shallows
till every feather doth shake and quiver and all their feathers go
all together blowing the life and the joy so rife into the swallows
that skim the shallows and have the yellowest children for the wind
that blows is the life of the river flowing for ever that washes
the grasses still as it passes and feeds the daisies the little
white praises and buttercups bonny so golden and sunny with butter
and honey that whiten the sheep awake or asleep that nibble and bite
and grow whiter than white and merry and quiet on the sweet diet fed
by the river and tossed for ever by the wind that tosses the swallow
that crosses over the shallows dipping his