then night came and all thought that it would be their last.

but, suddenly, the bell-flower raised her aching head and listened.

she thought she heard a sound as when a drop falls ... now came another ... it smacked down upon a leaf ... and another ... and another....

they all woke up, while the rain poured in torrents.

the poor blades of grass stood up, the unhappy moss took fresh courage. the linnet began to sing, though it was a dark night. the hazel-bush shook with delight, until he nearly shook the linnet's young out of the nest.

everything round about in the wood revived. the night was full of happiness. the ranger and the farmer rose from their beds and met in the rain and shook each other by the hand with glad eyes.

it rained the whole night and the day after and the next night and one day more. sometimes it rained gently and sometimes hard. the ground drank all the water with a thirsty mouth and the roots sucked it greedily out of the ground and leaves and flowers unfolded and stood erect and blithe on slender stalks.

then came the third day, with sunshine and a blue sky and life and merriment in the wood.

"well," said the wind and came darting along as though he had never been tired in his life, "do you see, i brought you the rain?"

"well," said the cloud, who drifted high above, in a light, white summer suit, "did you see how i came with the rain?"

"well," said the sun and laughed, rounder and warmer than ever, "so you got what you asked me for!"

the friends looked at one another in surprise. but, a little way off, sat the red fox, with his ugly, clever face:

"that's the sort of people they are," he said. "when you ask them for something, they're not at home. but they never forget to call for thanks!"