There were the sails of a windmill going round and round almost close to his ear.

He thought at first it must be one of those toys which are wound up and go with clockwork; but no, it was a common penny toy, with the windmill at the end of a whistle, and when the whistle blows the windmill goes.

But the wonder was that there was no one at the whistle end blowing, and yet the sails were turning round and round--now faster, now slower, now faster again.
"What can it mean ?" said Diamond, aloud.
"It means me," said the tiniest voice he had ever heard.
"Who are you, please ?" asked Diamond.
"Well, really, I begin to be ashamed of you," said the voice.

"I wonder how long it will be before you know me; or how often I might take you in before you got sharp enough to suspect me.

You are as bad as a baby that doesn't know his mother in a new bonnet." "Not quite so bad as that, dear North Wind," said Diamond, "for I didn't see you at all, and indeed I don't see you yet, although I recognise your voice.