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- Страна Северного Ветра
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“
I
know
what
you
mean
.
I
make
songs
myself
.
They
’
re
awfully
silly
,
but
they
please
baby
,
and
that
’
s
all
they
’
re
meant
for
.
”
“
Couldn
’
t
you
let
me
hear
one
of
them
now
?
”
said
Mr
.
Raymond
.
“
No
,
sir
,
I
couldn
’
t
.
I
forget
them
as
soon
as
I
’
ve
done
with
them
.
Besides
,
I
couldn
’
t
make
a
line
without
baby
on
my
knee
.
We
make
them
together
,
you
know
.
They
’
re
just
as
much
baby
’
s
as
mine
.
It
’
s
he
that
pulls
them
out
of
me
.
”
“
I
suspect
the
child
’
s
a
genius
,
”
said
the
poet
to
himself
,
“
and
that
’
s
what
makes
people
think
him
silly
.
”
Now
if
any
of
my
child
readers
want
to
know
what
a
genius
is
—
shall
I
try
to
tell
them
,
or
shall
I
not
?
I
will
give
them
one
very
short
answer
:
it
means
one
who
understands
things
without
any
other
body
telling
him
what
they
mean
.
God
makes
a
few
such
now
and
then
to
teach
the
rest
of
us
.
“
Do
you
like
riddles
?
”
asked
Mr
.
Raymond
,
turning
over
the
leaves
of
his
own
book
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
a
riddle
is
,
”
said
Diamond
.
“
It
’
s
something
that
means
something
else
,
and
you
’
ve
got
to
find
out
what
the
something
else
is
.
”
Mr
.
Raymond
liked
the
old
-
fashioned
riddle
best
,
and
had
written
a
few
—
one
of
which
he
now
read
.
