Old Mother West Wind

Old Mother West Wind was tired-tired and just a wee bit cross-cross because she was tired. She had had a very busy day.

Ever since early morning she had been puffing out the white sails of the ships on the big ocean that they might go faster; she had kept all the big and little wind mills whirling and whirling to pump water for thirsty folks and grind corn for hungry folks; she had blown away all the smoke from tall chimneys and engines and steamboats.