CHAPTER III.THEY MAKE AN ENEMY
“WHAT do you want here?” cried the Clerk of the Weather, crossly.
It wasn’t a very nice greeting, especially as the three anxious children had been standing and knocking upon the thundercloud door of the Clerk’s house for the last half hour.
It was Monday morning, and the Clerk of the Weather was never at his best on Monday. A muddler at all times, on Monday he was usually the most muddled muddler who ever muddled muddles!
“He’s cross as two sticks!” whispered Tibbs; “we shan’t get much help from him.”
“I wonder if he is related to Mrs. Grudge,” said Coppertop in a subdued voice; “he has her nose——”
“And her temper,” agreed Tibbs.
“Yes,” continued Coppertop, “and that’s about all there is of Mrs. Grudge—nose, and temper, and teeth.”
“’Es, and not always teeth, only sometimes,” added Kiddiwee.
“Hush!” corrected Coppertop, “you should never notice uncertain teeth.”
The Clerk of the Weather.
“What do you want here?” repeated the Clerk of the Weather, growing angrier and more like Mrs. Grudge each moment.
“If you please, we’ve come——”
“I can see that!” interrupted the Clerk.
“To—to——” stammered Coppertop.
“Two and two makes four!” snapped the Clerk. “Well! what have you come for?”
“Smarty!” cried Tibbs. And the Clerk glared at him.
“We’ve come to ask you very kindly for a December day, if you please,” said Coppertop, speaking in her best party manner, to hide Tibbs’ rudeness.
“Well, I don’t please!” rapped the Clerk of the Weather. “I haven’t one! And I wouldn’t give it to you if I had! December day, indeed! The most precious thing in my whole year! What do you think I’m made of?”
“Nose and temper and teeth,” said Kiddiwee, who thought the Clerk was asking a question to be answered.
“Insolent!” yelled the Clerk, purple with rage. “Be off at once! December day, indeed! You won’t get one if I can help it!” And so saying, he shut the thundercloud door with a bang!
“That’s a jolly bad start!” exclaimed Tibbs.
“’Es, it is!” echoed Kiddiwee.
“I don’t call it a start at all,” pouted Coppertop. “I’m afraid we’ve made an emeny of him.”
“Enemy, you mean,” corrected Tibbs. “Yes, I’m afraid we have. But that makes it all the more exciting.”
“’Es, it does too!” said Kiddiwee.
Just then a sharp breeze sprang up, flattening their gauzy wings (of course, they all had wings) against their sides, and nearly blowing them off the cloud upon which they were standing.
“I have an idea!” cried Tibbs, his face brightening up. “Let’s call on the Four Winds. They’re some of the Powers-that-be, and maybe they’ll help us.”
“Very well, then,” assented Coppertop, but without much enthusiasm; she never liked the Winds very much, they always made her hair so untidy. “But which shall we call on first? We ought to know before we start.”
“The South Wind, I should think; I expect he looks after the July days.”
“Oh, but he’s so cold! He nips my nose and fingers. I don’t like him one bit!” cried poor Coppertop, shivering at the very idea.
“Then I shall have to go alone,” cried Tibbs.
But at such a threat the others spread their wings, and prepared to follow him to the Castle of the Chill South Wind.