Страна Северного Ветра

Chapter XXII. Mr. Raymond's Riddle

           RaymondgaveDiamondhissixpence.

           “Whatwillyoudowithit?”heasked.

           “Takeithometomymother,”heanswered.“Shehasateapot—suchablackone!—withabrokenspout,andshekeepsallhermoneyinit.Itain’tmuch;butshesavesituptobuyshoesforme.Andthere’sbabycomingonfamously,andhe’llwantshoessoon.Andeverysixpenceissomething—ain’tit,sir?”

           “Tobesure,myman.Ihopeyou’llalwaysmakeasgoodauseofyourmoney.”

           “Ihopeso,sir,”saidDiamond.

           “Andhere’sabookforyou,fullofpicturesandstoriesandpoems.Iwroteitmyself,chieflyforthechildrenofthehospitalwhereIhopeNannyisgoing.Idon’tmeanIprintedit,youknow.Imadeit,”addedMr.Raymond,wishingDiamondtounderstandthathewastheauthorofthebook.

           “Iknowwhatyoumean.Imakesongsmyself.They’reawfullysilly,buttheypleasebaby,andthat’sallthey’remeantfor.”

           “Couldn’tyouletmehearoneofthemnow?”saidMr.Raymond.

           “No,sir,Icouldn’t.IforgetthemassoonasI’vedonewiththem.Besides,Icouldn’tmakealinewithoutbabyonmyknee.Wemakethemtogether,youknow.They’rejustasmuchbaby’sasmine.It’shethatpullsthemoutofme.”

           “Isuspectthechild’sagenius,”saidthepoettohimself,“andthat’swhatmakespeoplethinkhimsilly.”

           Nowifanyofmychildreaderswanttoknowwhatageniusis—shallItrytotellthem,orshallInot?Iwillgivethemoneveryshortanswer:itmeansonewhounderstandsthingswithoutanyotherbodytellinghimwhattheymean.

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