"Due south, due south," said Jonas. "And golden yellow is my fancy for the south." "And what for the north, and for the----" began Gratian eagerly, but his mother's voice interrupted him. "Bedtime, Gratian," she called, "come and put away your books. You've done enough lessons for to-night." Gratian gave himself a little shake of impatience. "How tiresome," he said. "I am quite awake now. I want you to go on telling me about the winds, Jonas, and I want to do a lot more lessons. I can't go to bed yet," but even while the words were on his lips, he started and shivered. "Jonas, it can't be south wind. It's as cold as anything." For a sharp keen gust had suddenly come round the corner, rasping the child's unprotected face almost "like a knife" as people sometimes say, and Watch, who had been rubbing his nose against Gratian, gave a snort of disgust. "You see Watch feels it too," said the boy. But Jonas only turned a little and looked about him calmly. "I can't say as I felt it, Master Gratian," he said. "But there's no answering for the winds and their freaks here at the Four Winds Farm, and it's but natural you should know more about 'em than most. All the same, I take it as you're feeling cold and chilly-like means as bed is the best place. You're getting sleepy--to say nothing of the Missus calling to ye to go." And again the mother's voice was heard. "Gratian, Gratian, my boy. Don't you hear me?" He moved, but slowly. A little imp of opposition had taken up its abode in the boy. Perhaps he had been feeling too pleased with his own good resolutions and beginnings! "Too bad," he muttered to himself, "just when I was getting to understand my lessons better. Old Jonas is very stupid." Again the short, sharp cutting slap of cold air on his face, and in spite of himself the boy moved more quickly. "Good-night, Jonas," he said rather grumpily, though he would not let himself shiver for fear he should again be told it showed he was sleepy, "I'm going. I'm not at all tired, but I'm going all the same. Only how you can say it's south wind--!" "I don't say so now. I said it _was_ south--that soft feeling as if one could see the glow of the south in it. Like enough it's east by now; isn't this where all the winds meet? Well, I'm off too. Good-night, master." "And you'll tell me about all the colours another time, won't you, Jonas?" said Gratian in a mollified tone. "Or you'll tell me, maybe," said the old man. "Never fear--we'll have some good talks over it. Out on the moor some holiday, with nobody but the sheep and Watch to hear our fancies--that's the best time--isn't it?" And the old shepherd whistled to the dog and disappeared round the corner of the house. His mother met Gratian at the kitchen door. "I was coming out to look for you," she said. "Put away your books now. You'd do no more good at them to-night."