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[pg/etext94/gardn10.txt]

Th Seecret Garden, bi Frances Hodgson Burnett March 13, 1994  [Etext #113]

In Onor of Lisa Hart's 9th Berthdae

This text is in th PUBLIC DOEMAEN.



 TH SEECRET GARDEN BI FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

 Author of

"Th Shutl," "Th Maeking of a Marchioness," "Th Methods of Laedy Walderhurst," "Th Las o' Lowries," "Thru Wun Administraeshun," "Litl Lord Fauntleroy," "A Laedy of Qolity," etc.





                            CONTENTS

CHAPTER  TIETL

I  THAIR IS NO WUN LEFT       
II  MISTRES MARY QIET CONTRAIRY      
III  ACROSS TH MUR        
IV  MARTHA        
V  TH CRI IN TH CORIDOR        
VI  "THAIR WAS SUM WUN CRIEING--THAIR WAS!"       
VII  TH KEE TO TH GARDEN      
VIII  TH ROBIN HOO SHOED TH WAE       
IX  TH STRAENJEST HOUS ENY WUN EVER LIVD IN         
X  DICKON       
XI  TH NEST OF TH MISSEL THRUSH       
XII  "MIET I HAV A BIT OF ERTH?"     XIII  "I AM COLIN"      
XIV  A YUNG RAJAH        
XV  NEST BILDING       
XVI  "I WOEN'T!" SED MARY     
XVII  A TANTRUM     XVIII  "THA' MUNNOT WAEST NO TIEM"       
XIX  "IT HAS CUM!"       
XX  "I SHAL LIV FOREVER--AND EVER--AND EVER!"       XXI  BEN WEATHERSTAFF     XXII  WHEN TH SUN WENT DOUN    
XXIII  MAJIC       
XIV  "LET THEM LAF"      
XXV  TH CURTEN      
XXVI  "IT'S MUTHER!"    
XXVII  IN TH GARDEN

  












TH SEECRET GARDEN

BI FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT





CHAPTER I

THAIR IS NO WUN LEFT

 When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to liv with her unkl evrybody sed she was th moest disagreeabl-luuking chield ever seen.  It was troo, too.  She had a litl thin faes and a litl thin body, thin liet hair and a sour expreshun.  Her hair was yelo, and her faes was yelo becauz she had bin born in India and had allwaes bin il in wun wae or anuther.  Her faather had held a pozishun under th English Guvernment and had allwaes bin bizy and il himself, and her muther had bin a graet buety hoo caird oenly to go to partys and amuez herself with gae peepl.  She had not wonted a litl gerl at all, and when Mary was born she handed her oever to th cair of an Ayah, hoo was maed to understand that if she wisht to pleez th Mem Sahib she must keep th chield out of siet as much as posibl.  So when she was a sikly, fretful, ugly litl baeby she was kept out of th wae, and when she becaem a sikly, fretful, todling thing she was kept out of th wae allso.  She never rememberd seeing familyarly enything but th dark faeses of her Ayah and th uther naetiv servants, and as thae allwaes oebaed her and gaev her her oen wae in evrything, becauz th Mem Sahib wuud be anggry if she was disterbd bi her crieing, bi th tiem she was six yeers oeld she was as tiranical and selfish a litl pig as ever livd.  Th yung English guvernes hoo caem to teech her to reed and riet disliekt her so much that she gaev up her plaes in three munths, and when uther governesses caem to tri to fil it thae allwaes went awae in a shorter tiem than th ferst wun.  So if Mary had not choezen to reealy wont to noe how to reed buuks she wuud never hav lernd her leters at all. 

Wun frietfuly hot morning, when she was about nien yeers oeld, she awaekend feeling verry cross, and she becaem crosser stil when she saw that th servant hoo stuud bi her bedsied was not her Ayah. 

"Whi did U cum?" she sed to th straenj wuuman.  "I wil not let U stae.  Send mi Ayah to me."

Th wuuman luukt frietend, but she oenly stamerd that th Ayah cuud not cum and when Mary throo herself into a pashun and beet and kikt her, she luukt oenly mor frietend and repeeted that it was not posibl for th Ayah to cum to Missie Sahib. 

Thair was sumthing misteerius in th air that morning.  Nuthing was dun in its reguelar order and several of th naetiv servants seemd mising, whiel thoes hoom Mary saw slunk or heryd about with ashy and scaird faeses.  But no wun wuud tel her enything and her Ayah did not cum.  She was akchualy left aloen as th morning went on, and at last she waanderd out into th garden and began to plae bi herself under a tree neer th veranda.  She pretended that she was maeking a flower-bed, and she stuk big scarlet hiebiscus blosoms into litl heeps of erth, all th tiem groeing mor and mor anggry and mutering to herself th things she wuud sae and th naems she wuud call Saidie when she reternd. 

"Pig! Pig! Dauter of Pigs!" she sed, becauz to call a naetiv a pig is th werst insult of all. 

She was griending her teeth and saeing this oever and oever agen when she herd her muther cum out on th veranda with sum wun.  She was with a fair yung man and thae stuud tauking together in lo straenj voises.  Mary nue th fair yung man hoo luukt liek a boi.  She had herd that he was a verry yung offiser hoo had just cum frum England.  Th chield staird at him, but she staird moest at her muther.  She allwaes did this when she had a chans to see her, becauz th Mem Sahib--Mary uezd to call her that offener than enything els--was such a tall, slim, prity person and wor such luvly cloeths.  Her hair was liek curly silk and she had a deliket litl noez which seemd to be disdaening things, and she had larj lafing ies.  All her cloeths wer thin and floeting, and Mary sed thae wer "fuul of laes." Thae luukt fuuler of laes than ever this morning, but her ies wer not lafing at all.  Thae wer larj and scaird and lifted imploringly to th fair boi officer's faes. 

"Is it so verry bad? O, is it?" Mary herd her sae. 

"Aufuly," th yung man anserd in a trembling vois.  "Aufuly, Mrs. Lennox.  U aut to hav gon to th hils too weeks ago."

Th Mem Sahib wrung her hands. 

"O, I noe I aut!" she cried.  "I oenly staed to go to that sily diner party.  Whut a fool I was!"

At that verry moement such a loud sound of waeling broek out frum th servants' qorters that she clucht th yung man's arm, and Mary stuud shivering frum hed to fuut.  Th waeling groo wielder and wielder.  "Whut is it? Whut is it?" Mrs. Lennox gaspt. 

"Sum wun has died," anserd th boi offiser.  "U did not sae it had broeken out amung yur servants."

"I did not noe!" th Mem Sahib cried.  "Cum with me! Cum with me!" and she ternd and ran into th hous. 

After that, apalling things hapend, and th mysteriousness of th morning was explaend to Mary.  Th colera had broeken out in its moest faetal form and peepl wer dieing liek flies.  Th Ayah had bin taeken il in th niet, and it was becauz she had just died that th servants had waeld in th huts.  Befor th next dae three uther servants wer ded and uthers had run awae in terror.  Thair was panic on evry sied, and dieing peepl in all th bungalows. 

During th confuezhun and bewilderment of th second dae Mary hid herself in th nersery and was forgoten bi evrywun.  Noebody thaut of her, noebody wonted her, and straenj things hapend of which she nue nuthing.  Mary allternetly cried and slept thru th ours.  She oenly nue that peepl wer il and that she herd misteerius and tietening sounds.  Wuns she crept into th diening-room and found it empty, tho a partly finisht meel was on th taebl and chairs and plates luukt as if thae had bin haestily puusht bak when th dieners roez sudenly for sum reezon.  Th chield aet sum froot and biskits, and being thersty she drank a glas of wien which stuud neerly fild.  It was sweet, and she did not noe how strong it was.  Verry soon it maed her intensly drouzy, and she went bak to her nersery and shut herself in agen, frietend bi cries she herd in th huts and bi th herying sound of feet.  Th wien maed her so sleepy that she cuud scairsly keep her ies oepen and she lae doun on her bed and nue nuthing mor for a long tiem. 

Meny things hapend during th ours in which she slept so hevily, but she was not disterbd bi th waels and th sound of things being carryd in and out of th bunggalo. 

When she awaekend she lae and staird at th wall.  Th hous was perfectly stil.  She had never noen it to be so sielent befor.  She herd neether voises nor fuutsteps, and wunderd if evrybody had got wel of th colera and all th trubl was oever.  She wunderd allso hoo wuud taek cair of her now her Ayah was ded.  Thair wuud be a nue Ayah, and perhaps she wuud noe sum nue storys.  Mary had bin rather tierd of th oeld wuns.  She did not cri becauz her ners had died.  She was not an afecshunet chield and had never caird much for eny wun.  Th noiz and herying about and waeling oever th colera had frietend her, and she had bin anggry becauz no wun seemd to remember that she was aliev.  Evrywun was too panic-striken to think of a litl gerl no wun was fond of.  When peepl had th colera it seemd that thae rememberd nuthing but themselvs.  But if evrywun had got wel agen, shurly sum wun wuud remember and cum to luuk for her. 

But no wun caem, and as she lae waeting th hous seemd to gro mor and mor sielent.  She herd sumthing rusling on th mating and when she luukt doun she saw a litl snaek gliding along and woching her with ies liek jooels.  She was not frietend, becauz he was a harmles litl thing hoo wuud not hert her and he seemd in a hery to get out of th room.  He slipt under th dor as she wocht him. 

"How qeer and qieet it is," she sed.  "It sounds as if thair wer no wun in th bunggalo but me and th snaek."

Allmoest th next minit she herd fuutsteps in th compound, and then on th veranda.  Thae wer men's fuutsteps, and th men enterd th bunggalo and taukt in lo voises.  No wun went to meet or speek to them and thae seemd to oepen dors and luuk into rooms.  "Whut desolaeshun!" she herd wun vois sae.  "That prity, prity wuuman! I supoez th chield, too.  I herd thair was a chield, tho no wun ever saw her."

Mary was standing in th midl of th nersery when thae oepend th dor a fue minits laeter.  She luukt an ugly, cross litl thing and was frouning becauz she was begining to be hunggry and feel disgraesfuly neglected.  Th ferst man hoo caem in was a larj offiser she had wuns seen tauking to her faather.  He luukt tierd and trubld, but when he saw her he was so startld that he allmoest jumpt bak. 

"Barney!" he cried out.  "Thair is a chield heer! A chield aloen! In a plaes liek this! Mersy on us, hoo is she!"

"I am Mary Lennox," th litl gerl sed, drawing herself up stifly.  She thaut th man was verry rood to call her father's bunggalo "A plaes liek this!" "I fel asleep when evrywun had th colera and I hav oenly just waekend up.  Whi duz noebody cum?"

"It is th chield no wun ever saw!" exclaemd th man, terning to his companyons.  "She has akchualy bin forgoten!"

"Whi was I forgoten?" Mary sed, stamping her fuut.  "Whi duz noebody cum?"

Th yung man hoos naem was Barney lookedat her verry sadly.  Mary eeven thaut she saw him wink his ies as if to wink teers awae. 

"Pur litl kid!" he sed.  "Thair is noebody left to cum."

It was in that straenj and suden wae that Mary found out that she had neether faather nor muther left; that thae had died and bin carryd awae in th niet, and that th fue naetiv servants hoo had not died allso had left th hous as qikly as thae cuud get out of it, nun of them eeven remembering that thair was a Missie Sahib.  That was whi th plaes was so qieet.  It was troo that thair was no wun in th bunggalo but herself and th litl rusling snaek. 





Chapter II

MISTRES MARY QIET CONTRAIRY

 Mary had liekt to luuk at her muther frum a distans and she had thaut her verry prity, but as she nue verry litl of her she cuud scairsly hav bin expected to luv her or to mis her verry much when she was gon.  She did not mis her at all, in fact, and as she was a self-absorbd chield she gaev her entier thaut to herself, as she had allwaes dun.  If she had bin oelder she wuud no dout hav bin verry ankshus at being left aloen in th werld, but she was verry yung, and as she had allwaes bin taeken cair of, she supoezd she allwaes wuud be.  Whut she thaut was that she wuud liek to noe if she was going to nies peepl, hoo wuud be poliet to her and giv her her oen wae as her Ayah and th uther naetiv servants had dun. 

She nue that she was not going to stae at th English clergyman's hous wherr she was taeken at ferst.  She did not wont to stae.  Th English clerjyman was pur and he had fiev children neerly all th saem aej and thae wor shaby cloeths and wer allwaes qorreling and snaching tois frum eech uther.  Mary haeted thair untiedy bunggalo and was so disagreeabl to them that after th ferst dae or too noebody wuud plae with her.  Bi th second dae thae had given her a niknaem which maed her fuerius. 

It was Bazil hoo thaut of it ferst.  Bazil was a litl boi with impuedent bloo ies and a ternd-up noez, and Mary haeted him.  She was plaeing bi herself under a tree, just as she had bin plaeing th dae th colera broek out.  She was maeking heeps of erth and paths for a garden and Bazil caem and stuud neer to woch her.  Prezently he got rather interested and sudenly maed a sugjeschun. 

"Whi don't U puut a heep of stoens thair and pretend it is a rockery?" he sed.  "Thair in th midl," and he leend oever her to point. 

"Go awae!" cried Mary.  "I don't wont bois.  Go awae!"

For a moement Bazil luukt anggry, and then he began to tees.  He was allwaes teezing his sisters.  He danst round and round her and maed faeses and sang and laft. 

         "Mistres Mary, qiet contrairy,           
          How duz yur garden gro?           
          With silver bels, and cockle shels,          
          And marigolds all in a ro."

He sang it until th uther children herd and laft, too; and th crosser Mary got, th mor thae sang "Mistres Mary, qiet contrairy"; and after that as long as she staed with them thae calld her "Mistres Mary Qiet Contrairy" when thae spoek of her to eech uther, and offen when thae spoek to her. 

"U ar going to be sent hoem," Bazil sed to her, "at th end of th week.  And we'r glad of it."

"I am glad of it, too," anserd Mary.  "Wherr is hoem?"

"She duzn't noe wherr hoem is!" sed Bazil, with seven-yeer-oeld scorn.  "It's England, of cors.  Our grandmama lievs thair and our sister Mabel was sent to her last yeer.  U ar not going to yur grandmama.  U hav nun.  U ar going to yur unkl.  His naem is Mr. Archibald Craeven."

"I don't noe enything about him," snapt Mary. 

"I noe U don't," Bazil anserd.  "U don't noe enything.  Gerls never do.  I herd faather and muther tauking about him.  He lievs in a graet, big, desolet oeld hous in th cuntry and no wun goes neer him.  He's so cross he woen't let them, and thae wuudn't cum if he wuud let them.  He's a hunchbak, and he's horrid." "I don't beleev U," sed Mary; and she ternd her bak and stuk her finggers in her eers, becauz she wuud not lisen eny mor. 

But she thaut oever it a graet deel afterward; and when Mrs. Crawford toeld her that niet that she was going to sael awae to England in a fue daes and go to her unkl, Mr. Archibald Craeven, hoo livd at Misselthwaite Manor, she luukt so stoeny and stubornly uninterested that thae did not noe whut to think about her.  Thae tried to be kiend to her, but she oenly ternd her faes awae when Mrs. Crawford atempted to kis her, and held herself stifly when Mr. Crawford pated her shoelder. 

"She is such a plaen chield," Mrs. Crawford sed pityingly, afterward.  "And her muther was such a prity creecher.  She had a verry prity maner, too, and Mary has th moest unatractiv waes I ever saw in a chield.  Th children call her `Mistres Mary Qiet Contrairy,' and tho it's nauty of them, wun can't help understanding it."

"Perhaps if her muther had carryd her prity faes and her prity maners offener into th nersery Mary miet hav lernd sum prity waes too.  It is verry sad, now th pur buetyful thing is gon, to remember that meny peepl never eeven nue that she had a chield at all."

"I beleev she scairsly ever luukt at her," sied Mrs. Crawford.  "When her Ayah was ded thair was no wun to giv a thaut to th litl thing.  Think of th servants runing awae and leeving her all aloen in that dezurted bunggalo.  Curnel Mcgrew sed he neerly jumpt out of his skin when he oepend th dor and found her standing bi herself in th midl of th room."

Mary maed th long voiej to England under th cair of an officer's wief, hoo was taeking her children to leev them in a bording-scool. She was verry much absorbd in her oen litl boi and gerl, and was rather glad to hand th chield oever to th wuuman Mr. Archibald Craeven sent to meet her, in London.  Th wuuman was his houskeeper at Misselthwaite Manor, and her naem was Mrs. Medlock.  She was a stout wuuman, with verry red cheeks and sharp blak ies.  She wor a verry perpl dres, a blak silk mantl with jet frinj on it and a blak bonet with perpl velvet flowers which stuk up and trembld when she moovd her hed.  Mary did not liek her at all, but as she verry seldom liekt peepl thair was nuthing remarkabl in that; besieds which it was verry evident Mrs. Medlock did not think much of her. 

"Mi werd! she's a plaen litl pees of guuds!" she sed.  "And we'd herd that her muther was a buety.  She hasn't handed much of it doun, has she, ma'am?" "Perhaps she wil improov as she groes oelder," th officer's wief sed guud-naturedly. "If she wer not so salo and had a nieser expreshun, her feechers ar rather guud.  Children allter so much."

"She'l hav to allter a guud deel," anserd Mrs. Medlock.  "And, thair's nuthing liekly to improov children at Misselthwaite--if U ask me!" Thae thaut Mary was not lisening becauz she was standing a litl apart frum them at th windo of th prievet hoetel thae had gon to.  She was woching th pasing buses and cabs and peepl, but she herd qiet wel and was maed verry cuerius about her unkl and th plaes he livd in.  Whut sort of a plaes was it, and whut wuud he be liek? Whut was a hunchbak? She had never seen wun.  Perhaps thair wer nun in India. 

Sinss she had bin living in uther people's houzes and had had no Ayah, she had begun to feel loenly and to think qeer thauts which wer nue to her.  She had begun to wunder whi she had never seemd to belong to enywun eeven when her faather and muther had bin aliev.  Uther children seemd to belong to thair faathers and muthers, but she had never seemd to reealy be anyone's litl gerl.  She had had servants, and food and cloeths, but no wun had taeken eny noetis of her.  She did not noe that this was becauz she was a disagreeabl chield; but then, of cors, she did not noe she was disagreeabl.  She offen thaut that uther peepl wer, but she did not noe that she was so herself. 

She thaut Mrs. Medlock th moest disagreeabl person she had ever seen, with her comon, hiely culord faes and her comon fien bonet.  When th next dae thae set out on thair jerny to Yorkshire, she waukt thru th staeshun to th raelwae carrej with her hed up and trieing to keep as far awae frum her as she cuud, becauz she did not wont to seem to belong to her.  It wuud hav maed her anggry to think peepl imajind she was her litl gerl. 

But Mrs. Medlock was not in th leest disterbd bi her and her thauts.  She was th kiend of wuuman hoo wuud "stand no nonsens frum yung wuns." At leest, that is whut she wuud hav sed if she had bin askt.  She had not wonted to go to London just when her sister Maria's dauter was going to be marryd, but she had a cumfortabl, wel paed plaes as houskeeper at Misselthwaite Manor and th oenly wae in which she cuud keep it was to do at wuns whut Mr. Archibald Craeven toeld her to do.  She never daird eeven to ask a qeschun. 

"Capten Lennox and his wief died of th colera," Mr. Craeven had sed in his short, coeld wae.  "Capten Lennox was mi wife's bruther and I am thair daughter's gardian.  Th chield is to be braut heer.  U must go to London and bring her yurself."

So she pakt her small trunk and maed th jerny. 

Mary sat in her corner of th raelwae carrej and luukt plaen and fretful.  She had nuthing to reed or to luuk at, and she had foelded her thin litl blak-gluvd hands in her lap.  Her blak dres maed her luuk yellower than ever, and her limp liet hair stragld frum under her blak craep hat. 

"A mor mard-luuking yung wun I never saw in mi lief," Mrs. Medlock thaut.  (Mard is a Yorkshire werd and meens spoild and pettish.) She had never seen a chield hoo sat so stil without doing enything; and at last she got tierd of woching her and began to tauk in a brisk, hard vois. 

"I supoez I mae as wel tel U sumthing about wherr U ar going to," she sed.  "Do U noe enything about yur unkl?"

"No," sed Mary. 

"Never herd yur faather and muther tauk about him?"

"No," sed Mary frouning.  She fround becauz she rememberd that her faather and muther had never taukt to her about enything in particuelar.  Sertenly thae had never toeld her things. 

"Humph," muterd Mrs. Medlock, stairing at her qeer, unresponsiv litl faes.  She did not sae eny mor for a fue moements and then she began agen. 

"I supoez U miet as wel be toeld sumthing--to prepair U.  U ar going to a qeer plaes."

Mary sed nuthing at all, and Mrs. Medlock luukt rather discomfited bi her aparrent indiferens, but, after taeking a breth, she went on. 

"Not but that it's a grand big plaes in a gloomy wae, and Mr. Craven's proud of it in his wae--and that's gloomy enuf, too.  Th hous is six hundred yeers oeld and it's on th ej of th mur, and thair's neer a hundred rooms in it, tho moest of them's shut up and lokt.  And thair's pikchers and fien oeld fernicher and things that's bin thair for aejes, and thair's a big park round it and gardens and trees with branches traeling to th ground--sum of them." She pauzd and tuuk anuther breth.  "But thair's nuthing els," she ended sudenly. 

Mary had begun to lisen in spiet of herself.  It all sounded so unliek India, and enything nue rather atracted her.  But she did not intend to luuk as if she wer interested.  That was wun of her unhapy, disagreeabl waes.  So she sat stil. 

"Wel," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "Whut do U think of it?"

"Nuthing," she anserd.  "I noe nuthing about such plaeses."

That maed Mrs. Medlock laf a short sort of laf. 

"Eh!" she sed, "but U ar liek an oeld wuuman.  Don't U cair?"

"It duzn't mater" sed Mary, "whether I cair or not."

"U ar riet enuf thair," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "It duzn't. Whut U'r to be kept at Misselthwaite Manor for I don't noe, unles becauz it's th eezyest wae.  He's not going to trubl himself about U, that's shur and serten.  He never trubls himself about no wun."

She stopt herself as if she had just rememberd sumthing in tiem. 

"He's got a cruuked bak," she sed.  "That set him rong.  He was a sour yung man and got no guud of all his muny and big plaes til he was marryd."

Mary's ies ternd tord her in spiet of her intenshun not to seem to cair.  She had never thaut of th hunchback's being marryd and she was a triefl serpriezd.  Mrs. Medlock saw this, and as she was a taukativ wuuman she continued with mor interest.  This was wun wae of pasing sum of th tiem, at eny raet. 

"She was a sweet, prity thing and he'd hav waukt th werld oever to get her a blaed o' gras she wonted.  Noebody thaut she'd marry him, but she did, and peepl sed she marryd him for his muny.  But she didn't--she didn't," pozitivly.  "When she died--"

Mary gaev a litl involuntairy jump. 

"O! did she die!" she exclaemd, qiet without meening to.  She had just rememberd a French fairy story she had wuns reed calld "Riquet a laa Houppe." It had bin about a pur hunchbak and a buetyful prinses and it had maed her sudenly sorry for Mr. Archibald Craeven. 

"Yes, she died," Mrs. Medlock anserd.  "And it maed him qeerer than ever.  He cairs about noebody.  He woen't see peepl.  Moest of th tiem he goes awae, and when he is at Misselthwaite he shuts himself up in th West Wing and woen't let eny wun but Picher see him.  Pitcher's an oeld felo, but he tuuk cair of him when he was a chield and he noes his waes."

It sounded liek sumthing in a buuk and it did not maek Mary feel cheerful.  A hous with a hundred rooms, neerly all shut up and with thair dors lokt--a hous on th ej of a mur--whut-so-ever a mur was--sounded dreery.  A man with a cruuked bak hoo shut himself up allso! She staird out of th windo with her lips pincht together, and it seemd qiet nacheral that th raen shuud hav begun to por doun in grae slanting liens and splash and streem doun th windo-paens. If th prity wief had bin aliev she miet hav maed things cheerful bi being sumthing liek her oen muther and bi runing in and out and going to partys as she had dun in froks "fuul of laes." But she was not thair eny mor. 

"U needn't expect to see him, becauz ten to wun U woen't," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "And U mustn't expect that thair wil be peepl to tauk to U.  U'l hav to plae about and luuk after yurself.  U'l be toeld whut rooms U can go into and whut rooms U'r to keep out of.  Thair's gardens enuf.  But when U'r in th hous don't go waandering and poeking about.  Mr. Craeven woen't hav it."

"I shal not wont to go poeking about," sed sour litl Mary and just as sudenly as she had begun to be rather sorry for Mr. Archibald Craeven she began to sees to be sorry and to think he was unplezant enuf to dezerv all that had hapend to him. 

And she ternd her faes tord th streeming paens of th windo of th raelwae carrej and gaezd out at th grae raen-storm which luukt as if it wuud go on forever and ever.  She wocht it so long and stedily that th grayness groo hevyer and hevyer befor her ies and she fel asleep. 





CHAPTER III

ACROSS TH MUR


 She slept a long tiem, and when she awaekend Mrs. Medlock had baut a lunchbasket at wun of th staeshuns and thae had sum chiken and coeld beef and bred and buter and sum hot tee.  Th raen seemd to be streeming doun mor hevily than ever and evrybody in th staeshun wor wet and glisening waterproofs.  Th gard lieted th lamps in th carrej, and Mrs. Medlock cheerd up verry much oever her tee and chiken and beef.  She aet a graet deel and afterward fel asleep herself, and Mary sat and staird at her and wocht her fien bonet slip on wun sied until she herself fel asleep wuns mor in th corner of th carrej, luld bi th splashing of th raen agenst th windoes.  It was qiet dark when she awaekend agen.  Th traen had stopt at a staeshun and Mrs. Medlock was shaeking her. 

"U hav had a sleep!" she sed.  "It's tiem to oepen yur ies! We'r at Thwaite Staeshun and we'v got a long driev befor us."

Mary stuud up and tried to keep her ies oepen whiel Mrs. Medlock colected her parsels.  Th litl gerl did not offer to help her, becauz in India naetiv servants allwaes pikt up or carryd things and it seemd qiet proper that uther peepl shuud waet on wun. 

Th staeshun was a small wun and noebody but themselvs seemd to be geting out of th traen.  Th staeshun-master spoek to Mrs. Medlock in a ruf, guud-naecherd wae, pronounsing his werds in a qeer braud fashun which Mary found out afterward was Yorkshire. 

"I see tha's got bak," he sed.  "An' tha's browt th' yung 'un with thee."

"Ae, that's her," anserd Mrs. Medlock, speeking with a Yorkshire acsent herself and jerking her hed oever her shoelder tord Mary.  "How's thi Missus?"

"Wel enow.  Th' carrej is waitin' outsied for thee."

A brooam stuud on th roed befor th litl outsied platform.  Mary saw that it was a smart carrej and that it was a smart fuutman hoo helpt her in.  His long wauterproof coet and th wauterproof cuvering of his hat wer shiening and driping with raen as evrything was, th berly staeshun-master inclooded. 

When he shut th dor, mounted th box with th coechman, and thae droev off, th litl girlfound herself seeted in a cumfortably cushioned corner, but she was not incliend to go to sleep agen.  She sat and luukt out of th windo, cuerius to see sumthing of th roed oever which she was being driven to th qeer plaes Mrs. Medlock had spoeken of.  She was not at all a timid chield and she was not exactly frietend, but she felt that thair was no noeing whut miet hapen in a hous with a hundred rooms neerly all shut up--a hous standing on th ej of a mur. 

"Whut is a mur?" she sed sudenly to Mrs. Medlock. 

"Luuk out of th windo in about ten minits and U'l see," th wuuman anserd.  "We'v got to driev fiev miels across Missel Mur befor we get to th Manor.  U woen't see much becauz it's a dark niet, but U can see sumthing."

Mary askt no mor qeschuns but waeted in th darknes of her corner, keeping her ies on th windo.  Th carrej lamps cast raes of liet a litl distans ahed of them and she caut glimpses of th things thae past.  After thae had left th staeshun thae had driven thru a tieny vilej and she had seen whietwosht cotejes and th liets of a public hous.  Then thae had past a cherch and a vicarej and a litl shop-windo or so in a cotej with tois and sweets and od things set our for sael.  Then thae wer on th hi-roed and she saw hejes and trees.  After that thair seemd nuthing diferent for a long tiem--or at leest it seemd a long tiem to her. 

At last th horses began to go mor sloely, as if thae wer clieming up-hil, and prezently thair seemd to be no mor hejes and no mor trees.  She cuud see nuthing, in fact, but a dens darknes on eether sied.  She leend forward and prest her faes agenst th windo just as th carrej gaev a big joelt. 

"Eh! We'r on th mur now shur enuf," sed Mrs. Medlock. 

Th carrej lamps shed a yelo liet on a ruf-luuking roed which seemd to be cut thru buushes and lo-groeing things which ended in th graet expans of dark aparrently spred out befor and around them.  A wind was riezing and maeking a singguelar, wield, lo, rushing sound. 

"It's--it's not th see, is it?" sed Mary, luuking round at her companyon. 

"No, not it," anserd Mrs. Medlock.  "Nor it isn't feelds nor mountens, it's just miels and miels and miels of wield land that nuthing groes on but hether and gorse and broom, and nuthing lievs on but wield poenys and sheep."

"I feel as if it miet be th see, if thair wer wauter on it," sed Mary.  "It sounds liek th see just now."

"That's th wind bloeing thru th buushes," Mrs. Medlock sed.  "It's a wield, dreery enuf plaes to mi miend, tho thair's plenty that lieks it--particuelarly when th heather's in bloom."

On and on thae droev thru th darknes, and tho th raen stopt, th wind rusht bi and whisld and maed straenj sounds.  Th roed went up and doun, and several tiems th carrej past oever a litl brij beneeth which wauter rusht verry fast with a graet deel of noiz.  Mary felt as if th driev wuud never cum to an end and that th wied, bleek mur was a wied expans of blak oeshan thru which she was pasing on a strip of dri land. 

"I don't liek it," she sed to herself.  "I don't liek it," and she pincht her thin lips mor tietly together. 

Th horses wer clieming up a hily pees of roed when she ferst caut siet of a liet.  Mrs. Medlock saw it as soon as she did and droo a long si of releef. 

"Eh, I am glad to see that bit o' liet twinkling," she exclaemd.  "It's th liet in th loj windo.  We shal get a guud cup of tee after a bit, at all events."

It was "after a bit," as she sed, for when th carrej past thru th park gaets thair was stil too miels of avenue to driev thru and th trees (which neerly met oeverhed) maed it seem as if thae wer drieving thru a long dark vallt. 

Thae droev out of th vallt into a cleer spaes and stopt befor an imensly long but lo-bilt hous which seemd to rambl round a stoen cort.  At ferst Mary thaut that thair wer no liets at all in th windoes, but as she got out of th carrej she saw that wun room in a corner upstairs shoed a dul glo. 

Th entrans dor was a huej wun maed of masiv, cueriusly shaept panels of oek studed with big ieern naels and bound with graet ieern bars.  It oepend into an enormus hall, which was so dimly lieted that th faeses in th portrets on th walls and th figuers in th soots of armor maed Mary feel that she did not wont to luuk at them.  As she stuud on th stoen flor she luukt a verry small, od litl blak figuer, and she felt as small and lost and od as she luukt. 

A neet, thin oeld man stuud neer th manservant hoo oepend th dor for them. 

"U ar to taek her to her room," he sed in a husky vois.  "He duzn't wont to see her.  He's going to London in th morning."

"Verry wel, Mr. Picher," Mrs. Medlock anserd.  "So long as I noe whut's expected of me, I can manej."

"Whut's expected of U, Mrs. Medlock," Mr. Picher sed, "is that U maek shur that he's not disterbd and that he duzn't see whut he duzn't wont to see."

And then Mary Lennox was led up a braud staircaes and doun a long coridor and up a short fliet of steps and thru anuther coridor and anuther, until a dor oepend in a wall and she found herself in a room with a fier in it and a super on a taebl. 

Mrs. Medlock sed unceremoniously:

"Wel, heer U ar! This room and th next ar wherr U'l liv--and U must keep to them.  Don't U forget that!"

It was in this wae Mistres Mary arievd at Misselthwaite Manor and she had perhaps never felt qiet so contrairy in all her lief. 





CHAPTER IV

MARTHA


 When she oepend her ies in th morning it was becauz a yung housmaed had cum into her room to liet th fier and was neeling on th harth-rug raeking out th sinders noizily.  Mary lae and wocht her for a fue moements and then began to luuk about th room.  She had never seen a room at all liek it and thaut it cuerius and gloomy.  Th walls wer cuverd with tapestry with a forest seen embroiderd on it.  Thair wer fantasticaly drest peepl under th trees and in th distans thair was a glimps of th terets of a casl.  Thair wer hunters and horses and daugs and laedys.  Mary felt as if she wer in th forest with them.  Out of a deep windo she cuud see a graet clieming strech of land which seemd to hav no trees on it, and to luuk rather liek an endles, dul, perplish see. 

"Whut is that?" she sed, pointing out of th windo. 

Martha, th yung housmaed, hoo had just rizen to her feet, luukt and pointed allso.  "That thair?" she sed. 

"Yes."

"That's th' mur," with a guud-naecherd grin.  "Duz tha' liek it?"

"No," anserd Mary.  "I haet it."

"That's becauz tha'rt not uezd to it," Martha sed, going bak to her harth.  "Tha' thinks it's too big an' bair now.  But tha' wil liek it."

"Do U?" inqierd Mary. 

"Ae, that I do," anserd Martha, cheerfuly polishing awae at th graet.  "I just luv it.  It's nun bair.  It's cuverd wi' growin' things as smels sweet.  It's fair luvly in spring an' sumer when th' gorse an' broom an' heather's in flower.  It smels o' huny an' thair's such a lot o' fresh air--an' th' skie luuks so hi an' th' bees an' skylarks maeks such a nies noiz hummin' an' singin'. Eh! I wuudn't liv awae frum th' mur for anythin'."

Mary lisend to her with a graev, puzld expreshun.  Th naetiv servants she had bin uezd to in India wer not in th leest liek this.  Thae wer obseeqius and servil and did not prezoom to tauk to thair masters as if thae wer thair eeqals.  Thae maed salaams and calld them "protector of th pur" and naems of that sort.  Indian servants wer comanded to do things, not askt.  It was not th custom to sae "pleez" and "thank U" and Mary had allwaes slapt her Ayah in th faes when she was anggry.  She wunderd a litl whut this gerl wuud do if wun slapt her in th faes.  She was a round, roezy, guud-naecherd-luuking creecher, but she had a sterdy wae which maed Mistres Mary wunder if she miet not eeven slap bak--if th person hoo slapt her was oenly a litl gerl. 

"U ar a straenj servant," she sed frum her piloes, rather hautily. 

Martha sat up on her heels, with her blackingbrush in her hand, and laft, without seeming th leest out of temper. 

"Eh! I noe that," she sed.  "If thair was a grand Missus at Misselthwaite I shuud never hav bin eeven wun of th' under hous-maeds. I miet hav bin let to be scullerymaid but I'd never hav bin let upstairs.  I'm too comon an' I tauk too much Yorkshire.  But this is a funy hous for all it's so grand.  Seems liek thair's neether Master nor Mistres exsept Mr. Picher an' Mrs. Medlock.  Mr. Craeven, he woen't be trubld about anythin' when he's heer, an' he's neerly allwaes awae.  Mrs. Medlock gaev me th' plaes out o' kiendnes.  She toeld me she cuud never hav dun it if Misselthwaite had bin liek uther big houses." "Ar U going to be mi servant?" Mary askt, stil in her impeerius litl Indian wae. 

Martha began to rub her graet agen. 

"I'm Mrs. Medlock's servant," she sed stoutly.  "An' she's Mr. Craven's--but I'm to do th housemaid's werk up heer an' waet on U a bit.  But U woen't need much waitin' on."

"Hoo is going to dres me?" demanded Mary. 

Martha sat up on her heels agen and staird.  She spoek in braud Yorkshire in her amaezment. 

"Canna' tha' dres thysen!" she sed. 

"Whut do U meen? I don't understand yur langgwej," sed Mary. 

"Eh! I forgot," Martha sed.  "Mrs. Medlock toeld me I'd hav to be cairful or U wuudn't noe whut I was sayin'. I meen can't U puut on yur oen cloeths?"

"No," anserd Mary, qiet indignantly.  "I never did in mi lief.  Mi Ayah drest me, of cors."

"Wel," sed Martha, evidently not in th leest awair that she was impuedent, "it's tiem tha' shuud lern.  Tha' cannot begin yungger.  It'l do thee guud to waet on thysen a bit.  Mi muther allwaes sed she cuudn't see whi grand people's children didn't tern out fair fools--whut with nerses an' bein' wosht an' drest an' tuuk out to wauk as if thae was pupys!"

"It is diferent in India," sed Mistres Mary disdainfully.  She cuud scairsly stand this. 

But Martha was not at all crusht. 

"Eh! I can see it's diferent," she anserd allmoest simpatheticaly.  "I dair sae it's becauz thair's such a lot o' blaks thair insted o' respectabl whiet peepl.  When I herd U was comin' frum India I thaut U was a blak too."

Mary sat up in bed fuerius. 

"Whut!" she sed.  "Whut! U thaut I was a naetiv.  U--U dauter of a pig!"

Martha staird and luukt hot. 

"Hoo ar U callin' naems?" she sed.  "U needn't be so vext.  That's not th' wae for a yung laedy to tauk.  I'v nothin' agenst th' blaks.  When U reed about 'em in tracts thae'r allwaes verry relijus.  U allwaes reed as a black's a man an' a bruther.  I'v never seen a blak an' I was fair pleezd to think I was goin' to see wun cloes.  When I cum in to liet yur fier this mornin' I crep' up to yur bed an' puuld th' cuver bak cairful to luuk at U.  An' thair U was," disappointedly, "no mor blak than me--for all U'r so yeler."

Mary did not eeven tri to controel her raej and huemiliaeshun.  "U thaut I was a naetiv! U daird! U don't noe enything about naetivs! Thae ar not peepl--thae'r servants hoo must salaam to U.  U noe nuthing about India.  U noe nuthing about enything!"

She was in such a raej and felt so helples befor th girl's simpl stair, and sumhow she sudenly felt so horribly loenly and far awae frum evrything she understuud and which understuud her, that she throo herself faes dounward on th piloes and berst into pashunet sobing.  She sobd so unrestrainedly that guud-naecherd Yorkshire Martha was a litl frietend and qiet sorry for her.  She went to th bed and bent oever her. 

"Eh! U mustn't cri liek that thair!" she begd.  "U mustn't for shur.  I didn't noe U'd be vext.  I don't noe anythin' about anythin'--just liek U sed.  I beg yur pardon, Mis. Do stop cryin'."

Thair was sumthing cumforting and reealy frendly in her qeer Yorkshire speech and sterdy wae which had a guud efect on Mary.  She grajualy seest crieing and becaem qieet.  Martha luukt releevd. 

"It's tiem for thee to get up now," she sed.  "Mrs. Medlock sed I was to carry tha' brekfast an' tee an' diner into th' room next to this.  It's bin maed into a nersery for thee.  I'l help thee on with thi cloeths if tha'll get out o' bed.  If th' butons ar at th' bak tha' cannot buton them up tha'self."

When Mary at last desieded to get up, th cloeths Martha tuuk frum th wordroeb wer not th wuns she had worn when she arievd th niet befor with Mrs. Medlock. 

"Thoes ar not mien," she sed.  "Mien ar blak."

She luukt th thik whiet wuul coet and dres oever, and aded with cool aprooval:

"Thoes ar nieser than mien."

"Thees ar th' wuns tha' must puut on," Martha anserd.  "Mr. Craeven orderd Mrs. Medlock to get 'em in London.  He sed `I woen't hav a chield drest in blak wanderin' about liek a lost soel,' he sed.  `It'd maek th plaes sader than it is.  Puut culor on her.' Muther she sed she nue whut he ment.  Muther allwaes noes whut a body meens.  She duzn't hoeld with blak hersel'."

"I haet blak things," sed Mary. 

Th dresing proses was wun which taut them boeth sumthing.  Martha had "butond up" her litl sisters and bruthers but she had never seen a chield hoo stuud stil and waeted for anuther person to do things for her as if she had neether hands nor feet of her oen. 

"Whi duzn't tha' puut on tha' oen shoos?" she sed when Mary qieetly held out her fuut. 

"Mi Ayah did it," anserd Mary, stairing.  "It was th custom."

She sed that verry offen--"It was th custom." Th naetiv servants wer allwaes saeing it.  If wun toeld them to do a thing thair ansestors had not dun for a thouzand yeers thae gaezd at wun mieldly and sed, "It is not th custom" and wun nue that was th end of th mater. 

It had not bin th custom that Mistres Mary shuud do enything but stand and alow herself to be drest liek a dol, but befor she was redy for brekfast she began to suspect that her lief at Misselthwaite Manor wuud end bi teeching her a number of things qiet nue to her--things such as puuting on her oen shoos and stokings, and piking up things she let fall.  If Martha had bin a wel-traend fien yung lady's maed she wuud hav bin mor subservyent and respectful and wuud hav noen that it was her biznes to brush hair, and buton boots, and pik things up and lae them awae.  She was, however, oenly an untraend Yorkshire rustic hoo had bin braut up in a murland cotej with a sworm of litl bruthers and sisters hoo had never dreemd of doing enything but waeting on themselvs and on th yungger wuns hoo wer eether baebys in arms or just lerning to toter about and tumbl oever things. 

If Mary Lennox had bin a chield hoo was redy to be amuezd she wuud perhaps hav laft at Martha's redynes to tauk, but Mary oenly lisend to her coeldly and wunderd at her freedom of maner.  At ferst she was not at all interested, but grajualy, as th gerl ratld on in her guud-temperd, hoemly wae, Mary began to noetis whut she was saeing. 

"Eh! U shuud see 'em all," she sed.  "Thair's twelv of us an' mi faather oenly gets sixteen shiling a week.  I can tel U mi mother's puut to it to get porrij for 'em all.  Thae tumbl about on th' mur an' plae thair all dae an' muther ses th' air of th' mur fattens 'em. She ses she beleevs thae eet th' gras saem as th' wield poenys do.  Our Dickon, he's twelv yeers oeld and he's got a yung poeny he calls his oen."

"Wherr did he get it?" askt Mary. 

"He found it on th' mur with its muther when it was a litl wun an' he began to maek frends with it an' giv it bits o' bred an' pluk yung gras for it.  And it got to liek him so it foloes him about an' it lets him get on its bak.  Dickon's a kiend lad an' animals lieks him."

Mary had never pozest an animal pet of her oen and had allwaes thaut she shuud liek wun.  So she began to feel a sliet interest in Dickon, and as she had never befor bin interested in eny wun but herself, it was th dauning of a helthy sentiment.  When she went into th room which had bin maed into a nersery for her, she found that it was rather liek th wun she had slept in.  It was not a child's room, but a groen-up person's room, with gloomy oeld pikchers on th walls and hevy oeld oek chairs.  A taebl in th senter was set with a guud substanshal brekfast.  But she had allwaes had a verry small apetiet, and she luukt with sumthing mor than indiferens at th ferst plaet Martha set befor her. 

"I don't wont it," she sed. 

"Tha' duzn't wont thi porrij!" Martha exclaemd increjulusly. 

"No."

"Tha' duzn't noe how guud it is.  Puut a bit o' treacle on it or a bit o' shuugar."

"I don't wont it," repeeted Mary. 

"Eh!" sed Martha.  "I can't abied to see guud victuals go to waest.  If our children was at this taebl thae'd cleen it bair in fiev minits."

"Whi?" sed Mary coeldly.  "Whi!" ekoed Martha.  "Becauz thae scairs ever had thair stumacs fuul in thair lievs.  Thae'r as hunggry as yung hauks an' foxes."

"I don't noe whut it is to be hunggry," sed Mary, with th indiferens of ignorans. 

Martha luukt indignant. 

"Wel, it wuud do thee guud to tri it.  I can see that plaen enuf," she sed outspokenly.  "I'v no paeshens with foek as sits an' just stairs at guud bred an' meet.  Mi werd! don't I wish Dickon and Phil an' Jane an' th' rest of 'em had whut's heer under thair pinafors."

"Whi don't U taek it to them?" sugjested Mary. 

"It's not mien," anserd Martha stoutly.  "An' this isn't mi dae out.  I get mi dae out wuns a munth saem as th' rest.  Then I go hoem an' cleen up for muther an' giv her a day's rest."

Mary drank sum tee and aet a litl toest and sum marmalaed. 

"U rap up worm an' run out an' plae U," sed Martha.  "It'l do U guud and giv U sum stumac for yur meet."

Mary went to th windo.  Thair wer gardens and paths and big trees, but evrything luukt dul and wintry. 

"Out? Whi shuud I go out on a dae liek this?" "Wel, if tha' duzn't go out tha'lt hav to stae in, an' whut has tha' got to do?"

Mary glanst about her.  Thair was nuthing to do.  When Mrs. Medlock had prepaird th nersery she had not thaut of amuezment.  Perhaps it wuud be beter to go and see whut th gardens wer liek. 

"Hoo wil go with me?" she inqierd. 

Martha staird. 

"U'l go bi yurself," she anserd.  "U'l hav to lern to plae liek uther children duz when thae havn't got sisters and bruthers.  Our Dickon goes off on th' mur bi himself an' plaes for ours.  That's how he maed frends with th' poeny.  He's got sheep on th' mur that noes him, an' berds as cums an' eets out of his hand.  However litl thair is to eet, he allwaes saevs a bit o' his bred to coex his pets."

It was reealy this menshun of Dickon which maed Mary desied to go out, tho she was not awair of it.  Thair wuud be, berds outsied tho thair wuud not be poenys or sheep.  Thae wuud be diferent frum th berds in India and it miet amuez her to luuk at them. 

Martha found her coet and hat for her and a pair of stout litl boots and she shoed her her wae dounstairs. 

"If tha' goes round that wae tha'll cum to th' gardens," she sed, pointing to a gaet in a wall of shrubery.  "Thair's lots o' flowers in sumer-tiem, but thair's nothin' bloomin' now." She seemd to hezitaet a second befor she aded, "Wun of th' gardens is lokt up.  No wun has bin in it for ten yeers."

"Whi?" askt Mary in spiet of herself.  Heer was anuther lokt dor aded to th hundred in th straenj hous. 

"Mr. Craeven had it shut when his wief died so suden.  He woen't let no wun go insied.  It was her garden.  He lokt th' dor an' dug a hoel and berryd th' kee.  Thair's Mrs. Medlock's bel ringing--I must run."

After she was gon Mary ternd doun th wauk which led to th dor in th shrubery.  She cuud not help thinking about th garden which no wun had bin into for ten yeers.  She wunderd whut it wuud luuk liek and whether thair wer eny flowers stil aliev in it.  When she had past thru th shrubery gaet she found herself in graet gardens, with wied launs and wiending wauks with clipt borders.  Thair wer trees, and flower-beds, and evergreens clipt into straenj shaeps, and a larj pool with an oeld grae founten in its midst.  But th flower-beds wer bair and wintry and th founten was not plaeing.  This was not th garden which was shut up.  How cuud a garden be shut up? U cuud allwaes wauk into a garden. 

She was just thinking this when she saw that, at th end of th path she was foloeing, thair seemd to be a long wall, with ievy groeing oever it.  She was not familyar enuf with England to noe that she was cuming upon th kichen-gardens wherr th vejetabls and froot wer groeing.  She went tord th wall and found that thair was a green dor in th ievy, and that it stuud oepen.  This was not th cloezd garden, evidently, and she cuud go into it. 

She went thru th dor and found that it was a garden with walls all round it and that it was oenly wun of several walld gardens which seemd to oepen into wun anuther.  She saw anuther oepen green dor, reveeling buushes and pathwaes between beds contaening winter vejetabls.  Froot-trees wer traend flat agenst th wall, and oever sum of th beds thair wer glas fraems.  Th plaes was bair and ugly enuf, Mary thaut, as she stuud and staird about her.  It miet be nieser in sumer when things wer green, but thair was nuthing prity about it now. 

Prezently an oeld man with a spaed oever his shoelder waukt thru th dor leeding frum th second garden.  He luukt startld when he saw Mary, and then tucht his cap.  He had a serly oeld faes, and did not seem at all pleezd to see her--but then she was displeezd with his garden and wor her "qiet contrairy" expreshun, and sertenly did not seem at all pleezd to see him. 

"Whut is this plaes?" she askt. 

"Wun o' th' kichen-gardens," he anserd. 

"Whut is that?" sed Mary, pointing thru th uther green dor. 

"Anuther of 'em," shortly.  "Thair's anuther on t'other sied o' th' wall an' thair's th' orchard t'other sied o' that."

"Can I go in them?" askt Mary. 

"If tha' lieks.  But thair's nowt to see."

Mary maed no respons.  She went doun th path and thru th second green dor.  Thair, she found mor walls and winter vejetabls and glas fraems, but in th second wall thair was anuther green dor and it was not oepen.  Perhaps it led into th garden which no wun had seen for ten yeers.  As she was not at all a timid chield and allwaes did whut she wonted to do, Mary went to th green dor and ternd th handl.  She hoept th dor wuud not oepen becauz she wonted to be shur she had found th misteerius garden--but it did oepen qiet eezily and she waukt thru it and found herself in an orchard.  Thair wer walls all round it allso and trees traend agenst them, and thair wer bair froot-trees groeing in th winter-browned gras--but thair was no green dor to be seen enywhair.  Mary luukt for it, and yet when she had enterd th uper end of th garden she had noetist that th wall did not seem to end with th orchard but to extend beyond it as if it encloezd a plaes at th uther sied.  She cuud see th tops of trees abuv th wall, and when she stuud stil she saw a berd with a briet red brest siting on th topmoest branch of wun of them, and sudenly he berst into his winter song--allmoest as if he had caut siet of her and was calling to her. 

She stopt and lisend to him and sumhow his cheerful, frendly litl whisl gaev her a pleezd feeling--eeven a disagreeabl litl gerl mae be loenly, and th big cloezd hous and big bair mur and big bair gardens had maed this wun feel as if thair was no wun left in th werld but herself.  If she had bin an afecshunet chield, hoo had bin uezd to being luvd, she wuud hav broeken her hart, but eeven tho she was "Mistres Mary Qiet Contrairy" she was desolet, and th briet-brested litl berd braut a luuk into her sour litl faes which was allmoest a smiel.  She lisend to him until he floo awae.  He was not liek an Indian berd and she liekt him and wunderd if she shuud ever see him agen.  Perhaps he livd in th misteerius garden and nue all about it. 

Perhaps it was becauz she had nuthing whutever to do that she thaut so much of th dezurted garden.  She was cuerius about it and wonted to see whut it was liek.  Whi had Mr. Archibald Craeven berryd th kee? If he had liekt his wief so much whi did he haet her garden? She wunderd if she shuud ever see him, but she nue that if she did she shuud not liek him, and he wuud not liek her, and that she shuud oenly stand and stair at him and sae nuthing, tho she shuud be wonting dredfuly to ask him whi he had dun such a qeer thing. 

"Peepl never liek me and I never liek peepl," she thaut.  "And I never can tauk as th Crawford children cuud.  Thae wer allwaes tauking and lafing and maeking noizes."

She thaut of th robin and of th wae he seemd to sing his song at her, and as she rememberd th tree-top he percht on she stopt rather sudenly on th path. 

"I beleev that tree was in th seecret garden--I feel shur it was," she sed.  "Thair was a wall round th plaes and thair was no dor."

She waukt bak into th ferst kichen-garden she had enterd and found th oeld man diging thair.  She went and stuud besied him and wocht him a fue moements in her coeld litl wae.  He tuuk no noetis of her and so at last she spoek to him. 

"I hav bin into th uther gardens," she sed. 

"Thair was nothin' to prevent thee," he anserd crustily. 

"I went into th orchard."

"Thair was no daug at th' dor to biet thee," he anserd. 

"Thair was no dor thair into th uther garden," sed Mary. 

"Whut garden?" he sed in a ruf vois, stoping his diging for a moement. 

"Th wun on th uther sied of th wall," anserd Mistres Mary.  "Thair ar trees thair--I saw th tops of them.  A berd with a red brest was siting on wun of them and he sang."

To her serpriez th serly oeld wether-beeten faes akchualy chaenjd its expreshun.  A slo smiel spred oever it and th gardner luukt qiet diferent.  It maed her think that it was cuerius how much nieser a person luukt when he smield.  She had not thaut of it befor. 

He ternd about to th orchard sied of his garden and began to whisl--a lo sofft whisl.  She cuud not understand how such a serly man cuud maek such a coexing sound.  Allmoest th next moement a wunderful thing hapend.  She herd a sofft litl rushing fliet thru th air--and it was th berd with th red brest flieing to them, and he akchualy alieted on th big clod of erth qiet neer to th gardener's fuut. 

"Heer he is," chukld th oeld man, and then he spoek to th berd as if he wer speeking to a chield. 

"Wherr has tha' bin, tha' cheeky litl begar?" he sed.  "I'v not seen thee befor todae.  Has tha, begun tha' courtin' this erly in th' seezon? Tha'rt too forrad."

Th berd puut his tieny hed on wun sied and luukt up at him with his sofft briet ie which was liek a blak duedrop.  He seemd qiet familyar and not th leest afraed.  He hopt about and pekt th erth briskly, luuking for seeds and insects.  It akchualy gaev Mary a qeer feeling in her hart, becauz he was so prity and cheerful and seemd so liek a person.  He had a tieny plump body and a deliket beek, and slender deliket legs. 

"Wil he allwaes cum when U call him?" she askt allmoest in a whisper. 

"Ae, that he wil.  I'v knowed him ever sinss he was a flejling.  He cum out of th' nest in th' uther garden an' when ferst he floo oever th' wall he was too weak to fli bak for a fue daes an' we got frendly.  When he went oever th' wall agen th' rest of th' brood was gon an' he was loenly an' he cum bak to me."

"Whut kiend of a berd is he?" Mary askt. 

"Duzn't tha' noe? He's a robin redbrest an' thae'r th' friendliest, curiousest berds aliev.  Thae'r allmoest as frendly as daugs--if U noe how to get on with 'em. Woch him peckin' about thair an' lookin' round at us now an' agen.  He noes we'r talkin' about him."

It was th qeerest thing in th werld to see th oeld felo.  He luukt at th plump litl scarlet-waistcoated berd as if he wer boeth proud and fond of him. 

"He's a conseeted wun," he chukld.  "He lieks to heer foek tauk about him.  An' cuerius--bles me, thair never was his liek for cueriosity an' meddlin'. He's allwaes comin' to see whut I'm plantin'. He noes all th' things Mester Craeven never trubls hissel' to fiend out.  He's th' hed gardner, he is."

Th robin hopt about bizily pecking th soil and now and then stopt and luukt at them a litl.  Mary thaut his blak duedrop ies gaezd at her with graet cueriosity.  It reealy seemd as if he wer fiending out all about her.  Th qeer feeling in her hart increest.  "Wherr did th rest of th brood fli to?" she askt. 

"Thair's no knowin'. Th oeld wuns tern 'em out o' thair nest an' maek 'em fli an' thae'r scaterd befor U noe it.  This wun was a knowin' wun an, he nue he was loenly."

Mistres Mary went a step neerer to th robin and luukt at him verry hard. 

"I'm loenly," she sed. 

She had not noen befor that this was wun of th things which maed her feel sour and cross.  She seemd to fiend it out when th robin luukt at her and she luukt at th robin. 

Th oeld gardner puusht his cap bak on his balld hed and staird at her a minit. 

"Art tha' th' litl wench frum India?" he askt. 

Mary noded. 

"Then no wunder tha'rt loenly.  Tha'lt be lonlier befor tha's dun," he sed. 

He began to dig agen, drieving his spaed deep into th rich blak garden soil whiel th robin hopt about verry bizily emploid. 

"Whut is yur naem?" Mary inqierd. 

He stuud up to anser her. 

"Ben Weatherstaff," he anserd, and then he aded with a serly chukl, "I'm loenly mysel' exsept when he's with me," and he jerkt his thum tord th robin.  "He's th' oenly frend I'v got."

"I hav no frends at all," sed Mary.  "I never had.  Mi Ayah didn't liek me and I never plaed with eny wun."

It is a Yorkshire habit to sae whut U think with blunt franknes, and oeld Ben Weatherstaff was a Yorkshire mur man. 

"Tha' an' me ar a guud bit aliek," he sed.  "We was woev out of th' saem clauth.  We'r neether of us guud lookin' an' we'r boeth of us as sour as we luuk.  We'v got th saem nasty tempers, boeth of us, I'l warant."

This was plaen speeking, and Mary Lennox had never herd th trooth about herself in her lief.  Naetiv servants allwaes salaamed and submited to U, whutever U did.  She had never thaut much about her luuks, but she wunderd if she was as unatractiv as Ben Weatherstaff and she allso wunderd if she luukt as sour as he had luukt befor th robin caem.  She akchualy began to wunder allso if she was "nasty temperd." She felt uncumfortabl. 

Sudenly a cleer ripling litl sound broek out neer her and she ternd round.  She was standing a fue feet frum a yung apl-tree and th robin had floen on to wun of its branches and had berst out into a scrap of a song.  Ben Weatherstaff laft outriet. 

"Whut did he do that for?" askt Mary. 

"He's maed up his miend to maek frends with thee," replied Ben.  "Dang me if he hasn't tuuk a fansy to thee."

"To me?" sed Mary, and she moovd tord th litl tree sofftly and luukt up. 

"Wuud U maek frends with me?" she sed to th robin just as if she was speeking to a person.  "Wuud U?" And she did not sae it eether in her hard litl vois or in her impeerius Indian vois, but in a toen so sofft and eeger and coexing that Ben Weatherstaff was as serpriezd as she had bin when she herd him whisl. 

"Whi," he cried out, "tha' sed that as nies an' hueman as if tha' was a reeal chield insted of a sharp oeld wuuman.  Tha' sed it allmoest liek Dickon tauks to his wield things on th' mur."

"Do U noe Dickon?" Mary askt, terning round rather in a hery. 

"Evrybody noes him.  Dickon's wanderin' about evrywhair.  Th' verry blackberries an' hether-bels noes him.  I warant th' foxes shoes him wherr thair cubs lies an' th' skylarks duzn't hied thair nests frum him."

Mary wuud hav liekt to ask sum mor qeschuns.  She was allmoest as cuerius about Dickon as she was about th dezurted garden.  But just that moement th robin, hoo had ended his song, gaev a litl shaek of his wings, spred them and floo awae.  He had maed his vizit and had uther things to do. 

"He has floen oever th wall!" Mary cried out, woching him.  "He has floen into th orchard--he has floen across th uther wall--into th garden wherr thair is no dor!"

"He lievs thair," sed oeld Ben.  "He caem out o' th' eg thair.  If he's courtin', he's makin' up to sum yung madam of a robin that lievs amung th' oeld roez-trees thair."

"Roez-trees," sed Mary.  "Ar thair roez-trees?"

Ben Weatherstaff tuuk up his spaed agen and began to dig. 

"Thair was ten year' ago," he mumbld. 

"I shuud liek to see them," sed Mary.  "Wherr is th green dor? Thair must be a dor sumwherr."

Ben droev his spaed deep and luukt as uncompanionable as he had luukt when she ferst saw him. 

"Thair was ten year' ago, but thair isn't now," he sed. 

"No dor!" cried Mary.  "Thair must be." "Nun as eny wun can fiend, an' nun as is eny one's biznes.  Don't U be a medlsum wench an' poek yur noez wherr it's no cauz to go.  Heer, I must go on with mi werk.  Get U gon an' plae U.  I'v no mor tiem."

And he akchualy stopt diging, throo his spaed oever his shoelder and waukt off, without eeven glansing at her or saeing guud-bi.





CHAPTER V

TH CRI IN TH CORIDOR


 At ferst eech dae which past bi for Mary Lennox was exactly liek th uthers.  Evry morning she awoek in her tapestried room and found Martha neeling upon th harth bilding her fier; evry morning she aet her brekfast in th nersery which had nuthing amuezing in it; and after eech brekfast she gaezd out of th windo across to th huej mur which seemd to spred out on all sieds and cliem up to th skie, and after she had staird for a whiel she reealiezd that if she did not go out she wuud hav to stae in and do nuthing--and so she went out.  She did not noe that this was th best thing she cuud hav dun, and she did not noe that, when she began to wauk qikly or eeven run along th paths and doun th avenue, she was stering her slo blud and maeking herself strongger bi fieting with th wind which swept doun frum th mur.  She ran oenly to maek herself worm, and she haeted th wind which rusht at her faes and rord and held her bak as if it wer sum jieant she cuud not see.  But th big breths of ruf fresh air bloen oever th hether fild her lungs with sumthing which was guud for her hoel thin body and whipt sum red culor into her cheeks and brietend her dul ies when she did not noe enything about it. 

But after a fue daes spent allmoest entierly out of dors she waekend wun morning noeing whut it was to be hunggry, and when she sat doun to her brekfast she did not glans disdainfully at her porrij and puush it awae, but tuuk up her spoon and began to eet it and went on eeting it until her boel was empty. 

"Tha' got on wel enuf with that this mornin', didn't tha'?" sed Martha. 

"It taests nies todae," sed Mary, feeling a litl serpriezd her self. 

"It's th' air of th' mur that's givin' thee stumac for tha' victuals," anserd Martha.  "It's luky for thee that tha's got victuals as wel as apetiet.  Thair's bin twelv in our cotej as had th' stumac an' nothin' to puut in it.  U go on playin' U out o' dors evry dae an' U'l get sum flesh on yur boens an' U woen't be so yeler."

"I don't plae," sed Mary.  "I hav nuthing to plae with."

"Nothin' to plae with!" exclaemd Martha.  "Our children plaes with stiks and stoens.  Thae just runs about an' shouts an' luuks at things." Mary did not shout, but she luukt at things.  Thair was nuthing els to do.  She waukt round and round th gardens and waanderd about th paths in th park.  Sumtiems she luukt for Ben Weatherstaff, but tho several tiems she saw him at werk he was too bizy to luuk at her or was too serly.  Wuns when she was wauking tord him he pikt up his spaed and ternd awae as if he did it on perpos. 

Wun plaes she went to offener than to eny uther.  It was th long wauk outsied th gardens with th walls round them.  Thair wer bair flower-beds on eether sied of it and agenst th walls ievy groo thikly.  Thair was wun part of th wall wherr th creeping dark green leevs wer mor bushy than elswherr.  It seemd as if for a long tiem that part had bin neglected.  Th rest of it had bin clipt and maed to luuk neet, but at this loeer end of th wauk it had not bin trimd at all. 

A fue daes after she had taukt to Ben Weatherstaff, Mary stopt to noetis this and wunderd whi it was so.  She had just pauzd and was luuking up at a long sprae of ievy swinging in th wind when she saw a gleem of scarlet and herd a brilyant churp, and thair, on th top of th wall, forward percht Ben Weatherstaff's robin redbrest, tilting forward to luuk at her with his small hed on wun sied. 

"O!" she cried out, "is it U--is it U?" And it did not seem at all qeer to her that she spoek to him as if she wer shur that he wuud understand and anser her. 

He did anser.  He twiterd and cherpt and hopt along th wall as if he wer teling her all sorts of things.  It seemd to Mistres Mary as if she understuud him, too, tho he was not speeking in werds.  It was as if he sed:

"Guud morning! Isn't th wind nies? Isn't th sun nies? Isn't evrything nies? Let us boeth churp and hop and twiter.  Cum on! Cum on!"

Mary began to laf, and as he hopt and tuuk litl fliets along th wall she ran after him.  Pur litl thin, salo, ugly Mary--she akchualy luukt allmoest prity for a moement. 

"I liek U! I liek U!" she cried out, pattering doun th wauk; and she cherpt and tried to whisl, which last she did not noe how to do in th leest.  But th robin seemd to be qiet satisfied and cherpt and whisld bak at her.  At last he spred his wings and maed a darting fliet to th top of a tree, wherr he percht and sang loudly.  That remiended Mary of th ferst tiem she had seen him.  He had bin swinging on a tree-top then and she had bin standing in th orchard.  Now she was on th uther sied of th orchard and standing in th path outsied a wall--much loeer doun--and thair was th saem tree insied. 

"It's in th garden no wun can go into," she sed to herself.  "It's th garden without a dor.  He lievs in thair.  How I wish I cuud see whut it is liek!"

She ran up th wauk to th green dor she had enterd th ferst morning.  Then she ran doun th path thru th uther dor and then into th orchard, and when she stuud and luukt up thair was th tree on th uther sied of th wall, and thair was th robin just finishing his song and, begining to preen his fethers with his beek. 

"It is th garden," she sed.  "I am shur it is."

She waukt round and luukt cloesly at that sied of th orchard wall, but she oenly found whut she had found befor--that thair was no dor in it.  Then she ran thru th kichen-gardens agen and out into th wauk outsied th long ievy-cuverd wall, and she waukt to th end of it and luukt at it, but thair was no dor; and then she waukt to th uther end, luuking agen, but thair was no dor. 

"It's verry qeer," she sed.  "Ben Weatherstaff sed thair was no dor and thair is no dor.  But thair must hav bin wun ten yeers ago, becauz Mr. Craeven berryd th kee."

This gaev her so much to think of that she began to be qiet interested and feel that she was not sorry that she had cum to Misselthwaite Manor.  In India she had allwaes felt hot and too langgwid to cair much about enything.  Th fact was that th fresh wind frum th mur had begun to blo th cobwebs out of her yung braen and to waken her up a litl. 

She staed out of dors neerly all dae, and when she sat doun to her super at niet she felt hunggry and drouzy and cumfortabl.  She did not feel cross when Martha chaterd awae.  She felt as if she rather liekt to heer her, and at last she thaut she wuud ask her a qeschun.  She askt it after she had finisht her super and had sat doun on th harth-rug befor th fier. 

"Whi did Mr. Craeven haet th garden?" she sed. 

She had maed Martha stae with her and Martha had not objected at all.  She was verry yung, and uezd to a crouded cotej fuul of bruthers and sisters, and she found it dul in th graet servants' hall dounstairs wherr th fuutman and uper-housemaids maed fun of her Yorkshire speech and luukt upon her as a comon litl thing, and sat and whisperd amung themselvs.  Martha liekt to tauk, and th straenj chield hoo had livd in India, and bin waeted upon bi "blaks," was novelty enuf to atract her. 

She sat doun on th harth herself without waeting to be askt. 

"Art tha' thinkin' about that garden yet?" she sed.  "I nue tha' wuud.  That was just th wae with me when I ferst herd about it."

"Whi did he haet it?" Mary persisted. 

Martha tukt her feet under her and maed herself qiet cumfortabl. 

"Lisen to th' wind wutherin' round th hous," she sed.  "U cuud bair stand up on th mur if U was out on it toniet."

Mary did not noe whut "wutherin'" ment until she lisend, and then she understuud.  It must meen that holo shudering sort of ror which rusht round and round th hous as if th jieant no wun cuud see wer bufeting it and beeting at th walls and windoes to tri to braek in.  But wun nue he cuud not get in, and sumhow it maed wun feel verry saef and worm insied a room with a red coel fier. 

"But whi did he haet it so?" she askt, after she had lisend.  She intended to noe if Martha did. 

Then Martha gaev up her stor of nolej. 

"Miend," she sed, "Mrs. Medlock sed it's not to be taukt about.  Thair's lots o' things in this plaes that's not to be taukt oever.  That's Mr. Craven's orders.  His trubls ar nun servants' biznes, he ses.  But for th' garden he wuudn't be liek he is.  It was Mrs. Craven's garden that she had maed when ferst thae wer marryd an' she just luvd it, an' thae uezd to 'tend th flowers themselvs.  An' nun o' th' gardners was ever let to go in.  Him an' her uezd to go in an' shut th' dor an' stae thair ours an' ours, readin' and talkin'. An, she was just a bit of a gerl an' thair was an oeld tree with a branch bent liek a seet on it.  An' she maed roezes gro oever it an' she uezd to sit thair.  But wun dae when she was sittin' thair th' branch broek an' she fel on th' ground an' was hert so bad that next dae she died.  Th' doctors thaut he'd go out o' his miend an' die, too.  That's whi he haets it.  No one's never gon in sinss, an' he woen't let eny wun tauk about it."

Mary did not ask eny mor qeschuns.  She luukt at th red fier and lisend to th wind "wutherin'." It seemd to be "wutherin'" louder than ever.  At that moement a verry guud thing was hapening to her.  Foer guud things had hapend to her, in fact, sinss she caem to Misselthwaite Manor.  She had felt as if she had understuud a robin and that he had understuud her; she had run in th wind until her blud had groen worm; she had bin helthily hunggry for th ferst tiem in her lief; and she had found out whut it was to be sorry for sum wun. 

But as she was lisening to th wind she began to lisen to sumthing els.  She did not noe whut it was, becauz at ferst she cuud scairsly distinggwish it frum th wind itself.  It was a cuerius sound--it seemd allmoest as if a chield wer crieing sumwherr.  Sumtiems th wind sounded rather liek a chield crieing, but prezently Mistres Mary felt qiet shur this sound was insied th hous, not outsied it.  It was far awae, but it was insied.  She ternd round and luukt at Martha. 

"Do U heer eny wun crieing?" she sed. 

Martha sudenly luukt confuezd. 

"No," she anserd.  "It's th' wind.  Sumtiems it sounds liek as if sum wun was lost on th' mur an' wailin'. It's got all sorts o' sounds."

"But lisen," sed Mary.  "It's in th hous--doun wun of thoes long coridors."

And at that verry moement a dor must hav bin oepend sumwherr dounstairs; for a graet rushing draft bloo along th pasej and th dor of th room thae sat in was bloen oepen with a crash, and as thae boeth jumpt to thair feet th liet was bloen out and th crieing sound was swept doun th far coridor so that it was to be herd mor plaenly than ever. 

"Thair!" sed Mary.  "I toeld U so! It is sum wun crieing--and it isn't a groen-up person."

Martha ran and shut th dor and ternd th kee, but befor she did it thae boeth herd th sound of a dor in sum far pasej shuting with a bang, and then evrything was qieet, for eeven th wind seest "wutherin'" for a fue moements. 

"It was th' wind," sed Martha stubornly.  "An' if it wasn't, it was litl Betty Butterworth, th' sculery-maed. She's had th' toothaek all dae."

But sumthing trubld and aukward in her maner maed Mistres Mary stair verry hard at her.  She did not beleev she was speeking th trooth. 





CHAPTER VI

"THAIR WAS SUM WUN CRIEING--THAIR WAS!"


 Th next dae th raen pord doun in torents agen, and when Mary luukt out of her windo th mur was allmoest hiden bi grae mist and cloud.  Thair cuud be no going out todae. 

"Whut do U do in yur cotej when it raens liek this?" she askt Martha. 

"Tri to keep frum under eech other's feet moestly," Martha anserd.  "Eh! thair duz seem a lot of us then.  Mother's a guud-temperd wuuman but she gets fair moithered.  Th bigest wuns goes out in th' cow-shed and plaes thair.  Dickon he duzn't miend th' wet.  He goes out just th' saem as if th' sun was shinin'. He ses he sees things on raeny daes as duzn't sho when it's fair wether.  He wuns found a litl fox cub haf dround in its hoel and he braut it hoem in th' buuzom of his shert to keep it worm.  Its muther had bin kild neerbi an' th' hoel was swum out an' th' rest o' th' liter was ded.  He's got it at hoem now.  He found a haf-dround yung cro anuther tiem an' he braut it hoem, too, an' taemd it.  It's naemd Suut becauz it's so blak, an' it hops an' flies about with him evrywhair."

Th tiem had cum when Mary had forgoten to rezent Martha's familyar tauk.  She had eeven begun to fiend it interesting and to be sorry when she stopt or went awae.  Th storys she had bin toeld bi her Ayah when she livd in India had bin qiet unliek thoes Martha had to tel about th murland cotej which held forteen peepl hoo livd in foer litl rooms and never had qiet enuf to eet.  Th children seemd to tumbl about and amuez themselvs liek a liter of ruf, guud-naecherd coly pupys.  Mary was moest atracted bi th muther and Dickon.  When Martha toeld storys of whut "muther" sed or did thae allwaes sounded cumfortabl. 

"If I had a raeven or a fox cub I cuud plae with it," sed Mary.  "But I hav nuthing."

Martha luukt perplext. 

"Can tha' nit?" she askt. 

"No," anserd Mary. 

"Can tha'sew?"

"No."

"Can tha' reed?"

"Yes."

"Then whi duzn't tha, reed somethin', or lern a bit o' spellin'? Tha'st oeld enuf to be learnin' thi buuk a guud bit now."

"I havn't eny buuks," sed Mary.  "Thoes I had wer left in India."

"That's a pity," sed Martha.  "If Mrs. Medlock'd let thee go into th' liebrairy, thair's thouzands o' buuks thair."

Mary did not ask wherr th liebrairy was, becauz she was sudenly inspierd bi a nue iedeea.  She maed up her miend to go and fiend it herself.  She was not trubld about Mrs. Medlock.  Mrs. Medlock seemd allwaes to be in her cumfortabl housekeeper's siting-room dounstairs.  In this qeer plaes wun scairsly ever saw eny wun at all.  In fact, thair was no wun to see but th servants, and when thair master was awae thae livd a lugzhurius lief belo stairs, wherr thair was a huej kichen hung about with shiening bras and pueter, and a larj servants' hall wherr thair wer foer or fiev abundant meels eeten evry dae, and wherr a graet deel of lievly romping went on when Mrs. Medlock was out of th wae. 

Mary's meels wer servd reguelarly, and Martha waeted on her, but no wun trubld themselvs about her in th leest.  Mrs. Medlock caem and luukt at her evry dae or too, but no wun inqierd whut she did or toeld her whut to do.  She supoezd that perhaps this was th English wae of treeting children.  In India she had allwaes bin atended bi her Ayah, hoo had foloed her about and waeted on her, hand and fuut.  She had offen bin tierd of her cumpany.  Now she was foloed bi noebody and was lerning to dres herself becauz Martha luukt as tho she thaut she was sily and stoopid when she wonted to hav things handed to her and puut on. 

"Hasn't tha' got guud sens?" she sed wuns, when Mary had stuud waeting for her to puut on her gluvs for her.  "Our Susan Ann is twies as sharp as thee an' she's oenly foer year' oeld.  Sumtiems tha' luuks fair sofft in th' hed."

Mary had worn her contrairy scoul for an our after that, but it maed her think several entierly nue things. 

She stuud at th windo for about ten minits this morning after Martha had swept up th harth for th last tiem and gon dounstairs.  She was thinking oever th nue iedeea which had cum to her when she herd of th liebrairy.  She did not cair verry much about th liebrairy itself, becauz she had reed verry fue buuks; but to heer of it braut bak to her miend th hundred rooms with cloezd dors.  She wunderd if thae wer all reealy lokt and whut she wuud fiend if she cuud get into eny of them.  Wer thair a hundred reealy? Whi shuudn't she go and see how meny dors she cuud count? It wuud be sumthing to do on this morning when she cuud not go out.  She had never bin taut to ask permishun to do things, and she nue nuthing at all about authority, so she wuud not hav thaut it nesesairy to ask Mrs. Medlock if she miet wauk about th hous, eeven if she had seen her. 

She oepend th dor of th room and went into th coridor, and then she began her waanderings.  It was a long coridor and it brancht into uther coridors and it led her up short fliets of steps which mounted to uthers agen.  Thair wer dors and dors, and thair wer pikchers on th walls.  Sumtiems thae wer pikchers of dark, cuerius landscaeps, but oftenest thae wer portrets of men and wimen in qeer, grand costooms maed of satin and velvet.  She found herself in wun long galery hoos walls wer cuverd with thees portrets.  She had never thaut thair cuud be so meny in eny hous.  She waukt sloely doun this plaes and staird at th faeses which allso seemd to stair at her.  She felt as if thae wer wundering whut a litl gerl frum India was doing in thair hous.  Sum wer pikchers of children--litl gerls in thik satin froks which reecht to thair feet and stuud out about them, and bois with puft sleevs and laes colars and long hair, or with big ruffs around thair neks.  She allwaes stopt to luuk at th children, and wunder whut thair naems wer, and wherr thae had gon, and whi thae wor such od cloeths.  Thair was a stif, plaen litl gerl rather liek herself.  She wor a green broecaed dres and held a green parrot on her fingger.  Her ies had a sharp, cuerius luuk. 

"Wherr do U liv now?" sed Mary aloud to her.  "I wish U wer heer."

Shurly no uther litl gerl ever spent such a qeer morning.  It seemd as if thair was no wun in all th huej rambling hous but her oen small self, waandering about upstairs and doun, thru narro pasejes and wied wuns, wherr it seemd to her that no wun but herself had ever waukt.  Sinss so meny rooms had bin bilt, peepl must hav livd in them, but it all seemd so empty that she cuud not qiet beleev it troo. 

It was not until she cliemd to th second flor that she thaut of terning th handl of a dor.  All th dors wer shut, as Mrs. Medlock had sed thae wer, but at last she puut her hand on th handl of wun of them and ternd it.  She was allmoest frietend for a moement when she felt that it ternd without dificulty and that when she puusht upon th dor itself it sloely and hevily oepend.  It was a masiv dor and oepend into a big bedroom.  Thair wer embroiderd hangings on th wall, and inlaed fernicher such as she had seen in India stuud about th room.  A braud windo with leded paens luukt out upon th mur; and oever th mantel was anuther portret of th stif, plaen litl gerl hoo seemd to stair at her mor cueriusly than ever. 

"Perhaps she slept heer wuns," sed Mary.  "She stairs at me so that she maeks me feel qeer."

After that she oepend mor dors and mor.  She saw so meny rooms that she becaem qiet tierd and began to think that thair must be a hundred, tho she had not counted them.  In all of them thair wer oeld pikchers or oeld tapestrys with straenj seens werkt on them.  Thair wer cuerius peeses of fernicher and cuerius ornaments in neerly all of them. 

In wun room, which luukt liek a lady's siting-room, th hangings wer all embroiderd velvet, and in a cabinet wer about a hundred litl elefants maed of ievory.  Thae wer of diferent siezes, and sum had thair mahouts or palanquins on thair baks.  Sum wer much biger than th uthers and sum wer so tieny that thae seemd oenly baebys.  Mary had seen carvd ievory in India and she nue all about elefants.  She oepend th dor of th cabinet and stuud on a fuutstool and plaed with thees for qiet a long tiem.  When she got tierd she set th elefants in order and shut th dor of th cabinet. 

In all her waanderings thru th long coridors and th empty rooms, she had seen nuthing aliev; but in this room she saw sumthing.  Just after she had cloezd th cabinet dor she herd a tieny rusling sound.  It maed her jump and luuk around at th soefa bi th fierplaes, frum which it seemd to cum.  In th corner of th soefa thair was a cuushun, and in th velvet which cuverd it thair was a hoel, and out of th hoel peeped a tieny hed with a pair of tietend ies in it. 

Mary crept sofftly across th room to luuk.  Th briet ies belongd to a litl grae mous, and th mous had eeten a hoel into th cuushun and maed a cumfortabl nest thair.  Six baeby mies wer cuddled up asleep neer her.  If thair was no wun els aliev in th hundred rooms thair wer seven mies hoo did not luuk loenly at all. 

"If thae wuudn't be so frietend I wuud taek them bak with me," sed Mary. 

She had waanderd about long enuf to feel too tierd to waander eny farther, and she ternd bak.  Too or three tiems she lost her wae bi terning doun th rong coridor and was obliejd to rambl up and doun until she found th riet wun; but at last she reecht her oen flor agen, tho she was sum distans frum her oen room and did not noe exactly wherr she was. 

"I beleev I hav taeken a rong terning agen," she sed, standing stil at whut seemd th end of a short pasej with tapestry on th wall.  "I don't noe which wae to go.  How stil evrything is!"

It was whiel she was standing heer and just after she had sed this that th stilnes was broeken bi a sound.  It was anuther cri, but not qiet liek th wun she had herd last niet; it was oenly a short wun, a fretful chieldish whien mufld bi pasing thru walls. 

"It's neerer than it was," sed Mary, her hart beeting rather faster.  "And it is crieing."

She puut her hand acsidentaly upon th tapestry neer her, and then sprang bak, feeling qiet startld.  Th tapestry was th cuvering of a dor which fel oepen and shoed her that thair was anuther part of th coridor behiend it, and Mrs. Medlock was cuming up it with her bunch of kees in her hand and a verry cross luuk on her faes. 

"Whut ar U doing heer?" she sed, and she tuuk Mary bi th arm and puuld her awae.  "Whut did I tel U?"

"I ternd round th rong corner," explaend Mary.  "I didn't noe which wae to go and I herd sum wun crieing." She qiet haeted Mrs. Medlock at th moement, but she haeted her mor th next. 

"U didn't heer enything of th sort," sed th houskeeper.  "U cum along bak to yur oen nersery or I'l box yur eers."

And she tuuk her bi th arm and haf puusht, haf puuld her up wun pasej and doun anuther until she puusht her in at th dor of her oen room. 

"Now," she sed, "U stae wherr U'r toeld to stae or U'l fiend yurself lokt up.  Th master had beter get U a guvernes, saem as he sed he wuud.  U'r wun that needs sum wun to luuk sharp after U.  I'v got enuf to do."

She went out of th room and slamd th dor after her, and Mary went and sat on th harth-rug, pael with raej.  She did not cri, but ground her teeth. 

"Thair was sum wun crieing--thair was--thair was!" she sed to herself. 

She had herd it twies now, and sumtiem she wuud fiend out.  She had found out a graet deel this morning.  She felt as if she had bin on a long jerny, and at eny raet she had had sumthing to amuez her all th tiem, and she had plaed with th ievory elefants and had seen th grae mous and its baebys in thair nest in th velvet cuushun. 





CHAPTER VII

TH KEE TO TH GARDEN


 Too daes after this, when Mary oepend her ies she sat upriet in bed imeedyetly, and calld to Martha. 

"Luuk at th mur! Luuk at th mur!"

Th raenstorm had ended and th grae mist and clouds had bin swept awae in th niet bi th wind.  Th wind itself had seest and a brilyant, deep bloo skie archt hi oever th murland.  Never, never had Mary dreemd of a skie so bloo.  In India skies wer hot and blaezing; this was of a deep cool bloo which allmoest seemd to sparkl liek th wauters of sum luvly botomles laek, and heer and thair, hi, hi in th archt blueness floeted small clouds of sno-whiet flees.  Th far-reeching werld of th mur itself luukt sofftly bloo insted of gloomy perpl-blak or auful dreery grae. 

"Ae," sed Martha with a cheerful grin.  "Th' storm's oever for a bit.  It duz liek this at this tiem o' th' yeer.  It goes off in a niet liek it was pretendin' it had never bin heer an' never ment to cum agen.  That's becauz th' springtime's on its wae.  It's a long wae off yet, but it's comin'."

"I thaut perhaps it allwaes raend or luukt dark in England," Mary sed. 

"Eh! no!" sed Martha, siting up on her heels amung her blak leed brushes.  "Nowt o' th' soart!"

"Whut duz that meen?" askt Mary seeriusly.  In India th naetivs spoek diferent diealects which oenly a fue peepl understuud, so she was not serpriezd when Martha uezd werds she did not noe. 

Martha laft as she had dun th ferst morning. 

"Thair now," she sed.  "I'v taukt braud Yorkshire agen liek Mrs. Medlock sed I mustn't. `Nowt o' th' soart' meens `nothin'-of-th-sort,'" sloely and cairfuly, "but it taeks so long to sae it.  Yorkshire's th' sunniest plaes on erth when it is suny.  I toeld thee tha'd liek th' mur after a bit.  Just U waet til U see th' goeld-culord gorse blosoms an' th' blosoms o' th' broom, an' th' hether flowerin', all perpl bels, an' hundreds o' buterflies flutterin' an' bees hummin' an' skylarks soarin' up an' singin'. U'l wont to get out on it as sunriez an' liv out on it all dae liek Dickon duz." "Cuud I ever get thair?" askt Mary wistfuly, luuking thru her windo at th far-off bloo.  It was so nue and big and wunderful and such a hevenly culor. 

"I don't noe," anserd Martha.  "Tha's never uezd tha' legs sinss tha' was born, it seems to me.  Tha' cuudn't wauk fiev miel.  It's fiev miel to our cotej."

"I shuud liek to see yur cotej."

Martha staird at her a moement cueriusly befor she tuuk up her polishing brush and began to rub th graet agen.  She was thining that th small plaen faes did not luuk qiet as sour at this moement as it had dun th ferst morning she saw it.  It luukt just a triefl liek litl Susan Ann's when she wonted sumthing verry much. 

"I'l ask mi muther about it," she sed.  "She's wun o' them that neerly allwaes sees a wae to do things.  It's mi dae out todae an' I'm goin' hoem.  Eh! I am glad.  Mrs. Medlock thinks a lot o' muther.  Perhaps she cuud tauk to her."

"I liek yur muther," sed Mary. 

"I shuud think tha' did," agreed Martha, polishing awae. 

"I'v never seen her," sed Mary. 

"No, tha' hasn't," replied Martha. 

She sat up on her heels agen and rubd th end of her noez with th bak of her hand as if puzld for a moement, but she ended qiet pozitivly. 

"Wel, she's that sensibl an' hard workin' an' goodnatured an' cleen that no wun cuud help likin' her whether thae'd seen her or not.  When I'm goin' hoem to her on mi dae out I just jump for joi when I'm crossin' th mur."

"I liek Dickon," aded Mary.  "And I'v never seen him."

"Wel," sed Martha stoutly, "I'v toeld thee that th' verry berds lieks him an' th' rabits an' wield sheep an' poenys, an' th' foxes themselvs.  I wunder," stairing at her reflectively, "whut Dickon wuud think of thee?"

"He wuudn't liek me," sed Mary in her stif, coeld litl wae.  "No wun duz."

Martha luukt reflectiv agen. 

"How duz tha' liek thysel'?" she inqierd, reealy qiet as if she wer cuerius to noe. 

Mary hezitaeted a moement and thaut it oever. 

"Not at all--reealy," she anserd.  "But I never thaut of that befor."

Martha grind a litl as if at sum hoemly recolecshun. 

"Muther sed that to me wuns," she sed.  "She was at her wosh- tub an' I was in a bad temper an' talkin' il of foek, an' she terns round on me an' ses: `Tha' yung vixen, tha'! Thair tha' stands sayin' tha' duzn't liek this wun an' tha' duzn't liek that wun.  How duz tha' liek thysel'?' It maed me laf an' it braut me to mi senses in a minit."

She went awae in hi spirits as soon as she had given Mary her brekfast.  She was going to wauk fiev miels across th mur to th cotej, and she was going to help her muther with th woshing and do th week's baeking and enjoi herself theroely. 

Mary felt loenlyer than ever when she nue she was no longger in th hous.  She went out into th garden as qikly as posibl, and th ferst thing she did was to run round and round th founten flower garden ten tiems.  She counted th tiems cairfuly and when she had finisht she felt in beter spirits.  Th sunshien maed th hoel plaes luuk diferent.  Th hi, deep, bloo skie archt oever Misselthwaite as wel as oever th mur, and she kept lifting her faes and luuking up into it, trieing to imajin whut it wuud be liek to lie doun on wun of th litl sno-whiet clouds and floet about.  She went into th ferst kichen-garden and found Ben Weatherstaff werking thair with too uther gardners.  Th chaenj in th wether seemd to hav dun him guud.  He spoek to her of his oen acord.  "Springtime's comin,'" he sed.  "Cannot tha' smel it?"

Mary snift and thaut she cuud. 

"I smel sumthing nies and fresh and damp," she sed. 

"That's th' guud rich erth," he anserd, diging awae.  "It's in a guud huemor makin' redy to gro things.  It's glad when plantin' tiem cums.  It's dul in th' winter when it's got nowt to do.  In th' flower gardens out thair things wil be stirrin' doun belo in th' dark.  Th' sun's warmin' 'em. U'l see bits o' green spieks stickin' out o' th' blak erth after a bit."

"Whut wil thae be?" askt Mary. 

"Crocuses an' snoedrops an' daffydowndillys.  Has tha' never seen them?"

"No. Evrything is hot, and wet, and green after th raens in India," sed Mary.  "And I think things gro up in a niet."

"Thees woen't gro up in a niet," sed Weatherstaff.  "Tha'll hav to waet for 'em. Thae'l poek up a bit hieer heer, an' puush out a spiek mor thair, an' uncurl a leef this dae an' anuther that.  U woch 'em."

"I am going to," anserd Mary. 

Verry soon she herd th sofft rusling fliet of wings agen and she nue at wuns that th robin had cum agen.  He was verry pert and lievly, and hopt about so cloes to her feet, and puut his hed on wun sied and luukt at her so sliely that she askt Ben Weatherstaff a qeschun. 

"Do U think he remembers me?" she sed. 

"Remembers thee!" sed Weatherstaff indignantly.  "He noes evry cabej stump in th' gardens, let aloen th' peepl.  He's never seen a litl wench heer befor, an' he's bent on findin' out all about thee.  Tha's no need to tri to hied enything frum him."

"Ar things stering doun belo in th dark in that garden wherr he lievs?" Mary inqierd. 

"Whut garden?" grunted Weatherstaff, becuming serly agen. 

"Th wun wherr th oeld roez-trees ar." She cuud not help asking, becauz she wonted so much to noe.  "Ar all th flowers ded, or do sum of them cum agen in th sumer? Ar thair ever eny roezes?"

"Ask him," sed Ben Weatherstaff, hunching his shoelders tord th robin.  "He's th oenly wun as noes.  No wun els has seen insied it for ten year'."

Ten yeers was a long tiem, Mary thaut.  She had bin born ten yeers ago. 

She waukt awae, sloely thinking.  She had begun to liek th garden just as she had begun to liek th robin and Dickon and Martha's muther.  She was begining to liek Martha, too.  That seemd a guud meny peepl to liek--when U wer not uezd to lieking.  She thaut of th robin as wun of th peepl.  She went to her wauk outsied th long, ievy-cuverd wall oever which she cuud see th tree-tops; and th second tiem she waukt up and doun th moest interesting and exsieting thing hapend to her, and it was all thru Ben Weatherstaff's robin. 

She herd a churp and a twiter, and when she luukt at th bair flower-bed at her left sied thair he was hoping about and pretending to pek things out of th erth to perswaed her that he had not foloed her.  But she nue he had foloed her and th serpriez so fild her with deliet that she allmoest trembld a litl. 

"U do remember me!" she cried out.  "U do! U ar prityer than enything els in th werld!"

She cherpt, and taukt, and coext and he hopt, and flerted his tael and twiterd.  It was as if he wer tauking.  His red waestcoet was liek satin and he puft his tieny brest out and was so fien and so grand and so prity that it was reealy as if he wer shoeing her how important and liek a hueman person a robin cuud be.  Mistres Mary forgot that she had ever bin contrairy in her lief when he alowd her to draw cloeser and cloeser to him, and bend doun and tauk and tri to maek sumthing liek robin sounds. 

O! to think that he shuud akchualy let her cum as neer to him as that! He nue nuthing in th werld wuud maek her puut out her hand tord him or startl him in th leest tienyest wae.  He nue it becauz he was a reeal person--oenly nieser than eny uther person in th werld.  She was so hapy that she scairsly daird to breeth. 

Th flower-bed was not qiet bair.  It was bair of flowers becauz th perenial plants had bin cut doun for thair winter rest, but thair wer tall shrubs and lo wuns which groo together at th bak of th bed, and as th robin hopt about under them she saw him hop oever a small piel of freshly ternd up erth.  He stopt on it to luuk for a werm.  Th erth had bin ternd up becauz a daug had bin trieing to dig up a moel and he had scracht qiet a deep hoel. 

Mary luukt at it, not reealy noeing whi th hoel was thair, and as she luukt she saw sumthing allmoest berryd in th nuely-ternd soil.  It was sumthing liek a ring of rusty ieern or bras and when th robin floo up into a tree neerbi she puut out her hand and pikt th ring up.  It was mor than a ring, however; it was an oeld kee which luukt as if it had bin berryd a long tiem. 

Mistres Mary stuud up and luukt at it with an allmoest frietend faes as it hung frum her fingger. 

"Perhaps it has bin berryd for ten yeers," she sed in a whisper.  "Perhaps it is th kee to th garden!"





CHAPTER VIII

TH ROBIN HOO SHOED TH WAE


 She luukt at th kee qiet a long tiem.  She ternd it oever and oever, and thaut about it.  As I hav sed befor, she was not a chield hoo had bin traend to ask permishun or consult her elders about things.  All she thaut about th kee was that if it was th kee to th cloezd garden, and she cuud fiend out wherr th dor was, she cuud perhaps oepen it and see whut was insied th walls, and whut had hapend to th oeld roez-trees. It was becauz it had bin shut up so long that she wonted to see it.  It seemd as if it must be diferent frum uther plaeses and that sumthing straenj must hav hapend to it during ten yeers.  Besieds that, if she liekt it she cuud go into it evry dae and shut th dor behiend her, and she cuud maek up sum plae of her oen and plae it qiet aloen, becauz noebody wuud ever noe wherr she was, but wuud think th dor was stil lokt and th kee berryd in th erth.  Th thaut of that pleezd her verry much. 

Living as it wer, all bi herself in a hous with a hundred misteeriusly cloezd rooms and having nuthing whutever to do to amuez herself, had set her inactiv braen to werking and was akchualy awaekening her imajinaeshun.  Thair is no dout that th fresh, strong, puer air frum th mur had a graet deel to do with it.  Just as it had given her an apetiet, and fieting with th wind had sterd her blud, so th saem things had sterd her miend.  In India she had allwaes bin too hot and langgwid and weak to cair much about enything, but in this plaes she was begining to cair and to wont to do nue things.  Allredy she felt les "contrairy," tho she did not noe whi. 

She puut th kee in her poket and waukt up and doun her wauk.  No wun but herself ever seemd to cum thair, so she cuud wauk sloely and luuk at th wall, or, rather, at th ievy groeing on it.  Th ievy was th bafling thing.  How-so-ever cairfuly she luukt she cuud see nuthing but thikly groeing, glossy, dark green leevs.  She was verry much disapointed.  Sumthing of her contrairynes caem bak to her as she paest th wauk and luukt oever it at th tree-tops insied.  It seemd so sily, she sed to herself, to be neer it and not be aebl to get in.  She tuuk th kee in her poket when she went bak to th hous, and she maed up her miend that she wuud allwaes carry it with her when she went out, so that if she ever shuud fiend th hiden dor she wuud be redy. 

Mrs. Medlock had alowd Martha to sleep all niet at th cotej, but she was bak at her werk in th morning with cheeks reder than ever and in th best of spirits. 

"I got up at foer o'clok," she sed.  "Eh! it was prity on th' mur with th' berds gettin' up an' th' rabits scamperin' about an' th' sun risin'. I didn't wauk all th' wae.  A man gaev me a ried in his cart an' I did enjoi mieself."

She was fuul of storys of th deliets of her dae out.  Her muther had bin glad to see her and thae had got th baeking and woshing all out of th wae.  She had eeven maed eech of th children a doughcake with a bit of broun shuugar in it. 

"I had 'em all pipin' hot when thae caem in frum playin' on th' mur.  An' th' cotej all smelt o' nies, cleen hot bakin' an' thair was a guud fier, an' thae just shouted for joi.  Our Dickon he sed our cotej was guud enuf for a king."

In th eevning thae had all sat round th fier, and Martha and her muther had soed paches on torn cloeths and mended stokings and Martha had toeld them about th litl gerl hoo had cum frum India and hoo had bin waeted on all her lief bi whut Martha calld "blaks" until she didn't noe how to puut on her oen stokings. 

"Eh! thae did liek to heer about U," sed Martha.  "Thae wonted to noe all about th' blaks an' about th' ship U caem in.  I cuudn't tel 'em enuf."

Mary reflected a litl. 

"I'l tel U a graet deel mor befor yur next dae out," she sed, "so that U wil hav mor to tauk about.  I dair sae thae wuud liek to heer about rieding on elefants and camels, and about th offisers going to hunt tiegers."

"Mi werd!" cried delieted Martha.  "It wuud set 'em cleen off thair heds.  Wuud tha' reealy do that, Mis? It wuud be saem as a wield beest sho liek we herd thae had in York wuns."

"India is qiet diferent frum Yorkshire," Mary sed sloely, as she thaut th mater oever.  "I never thaut of that.  Did Dickon and yur muther liek to heer U tauk about me?"

"Whi, our Dickon's ies neerly started out o' his hed, thae got that round," anserd Martha.  "But muther, she was puut out about yur seemin' to be all bi yurself liek.  She sed, 'hasn't Mr. Craeven got no guvernes for her, nor no ners?' and I sed, 'no, he hasn't, tho Mrs. Medlock ses he wil when he thinks of it, but she ses he mayn't think of it for too or three yeers.'"

"I don't wont a guvernes," sed Mary sharply. 

"But muther ses U aut to be learnin' yur buuk bi this tiem an' U aut to hav a wuuman to luuk after U, an' she ses: `Now, Martha, U just think how U'd feel yurself, in a big plaes liek that, wanderin' about all aloen, an' no muther.  U do yur best to cheer her up,' she ses, an' I sed I wuud."

Mary gaev her a long, stedy luuk. 

"U do cheer me up," she sed.  "I liek to heer U tauk."

Prezently Martha went out of th room and caem bak with sumthing held in her hands under her aepron. 

"Whut duz tha' think," she sed, with a cheerful grin.  "I'v braut thee a prezent."

"A prezent!" exclaemd Mistres Mary.  How cuud a cotej fuul of forteen hunggry peepl giv eny wun a prezent!

"A man was drivin' across th mur peddlin'," Martha explaend.  "An' he stopt his cart at our dor.  He had pots an' pans an' ods an' ends, but muther had no muny to bi anythin'. Just as he was goin' awae our 'lizabeth Ellen calld out, `Muther, he's got skippin'-roeps with red an' bloo handls.' An' muther she calls out qiet suden, `Heer, stop, mister! How much ar thae?' An' he ses `Tuppence', an' muther she began fumblin' in her poket an' she ses to me, `Martha, tha's braut me thi waejes liek a guud las, an' I'v got foer plaeses to puut evry peny, but I'm just goin' to taek tuppence out of it to bi that chield a skippin'-roep,' an' she baut wun an' heer it is."

She braut it out frum under her aepron and exibited it qiet proudly.  It was a strong, slender roep with a striept red and bloo handl at eech end, but Mary Lennox had never seen a skiping-roep befor.  She gaezd at it with a mistified expreshun. 

"Whut is it for?" she askt cueriusly. 

"For!" cried out Martha.  "Duz tha' meen that thae'v not got skippin'-roeps in India, for all thae'v got elefants and tiegers and camels! No wunder moest of 'em's blak.  This is whut it's for; just woch me."

And she ran into th midl of th room and, taeking a handl in eech hand, began to skip, and skip, and skip, whiel Mary ternd in her chair to stair at her, and th qeer faeses in th oeld portrets seemd to stair at her, too, and wunder whut on erth this comon litl cottager had th impuedens to be doing under thair verry noezes.  But Martha did not eeven see them.  Th interest and cueriosity in Mistres Mary's faes delieted her, and she went on skiping and counted as she skipt until she had reecht a hundred. 

"I cuud skip longger than that," she sed when she stopt.  "I'v skipt as much as fiev hundred when I was twelv, but I wasn't as fat then as I am now, an' I was in practis."

Mary got up frum her chair begining to feel exsieted herself. 

"It luuks nies," she sed.  "Yur muther is a kiend wuuman.  Do U think I cuud ever skip liek that?"

"U just tri it," erjd Martha, handing her th skiping- roep.  "U can't skip a hundred at ferst, but if U practis U'l mount up.  That's whut muther sed.  She ses, `Nothin' wil do her mor guud than skippin' roep.  It's th' sensiblest toi a chield can hav.  Let her plae out in th' fresh air skippin' an' it'l strech her legs an' arms an' giv her sum strength in 'em.'"

It was plaen that thair was not a graet deel of strength in Mistres Mary's arms and legs when she ferst began to skip.  She was not verry clever at it, but she liekt it so much that she did not wont to stop. 

"Puut on tha' things and run an' skip out o' dors," sed Martha.  "Muther sed I must tel U to keep out o' dors as much as U cuud, eeven when it raens a bit, so as tha' rap up worm."

Mary puut on her coet and hat and tuuk her skiping-roep oever her arm.  She oepend th dor to go out, and then sudenly thaut of sumthing and ternd bak rather sloely. 

"Martha," she sed, "thae wer yur waejes.  It was yur too-pence reealy.  Thank U." She sed it stifly becauz she was not uezd to thanking peepl or noetising that thae did things for her.  "Thank U," she sed, and held out her hand becauz she did not noe whut els to do. 

Martha gaev her hand a clumzy litl shaek, as if she was not acustomd to this sort of thing eether.  Then she laft. 

"Eh! th' art a qeer, oeld-wuumanish thing," she sed.  "If tha'd bin our 'lizabeth Ellen tha'd hav given me a kis."

Mary luukt stifer than ever. 

"Do U wont me to kis U?"

Martha laft agen. 

"Nae, not me," she anserd.  "If tha' was diferent, p'raps tha'd wont to thysel'. But tha' isn't. Run off outsied an' plae with thi roep."

Mistres Mary felt a litl aukward as she went out of th room.  Yorkshire peepl seemd straenj, and Martha was allwaes rather a puzl to her.  At ferst she had disliekt her verry much, but now she did not.  Th skiping-roep was a wunderful thing.  She counted and skipt, and skipt and counted, until her cheeks wer qiet red, and she was mor interested than she had ever bin sinss she was born.  Th sun was shiening and a litl wind was bloeing--not a ruf wind, but wun which caem in delietful litl gusts and braut a fresh sent of nuely ternd erth with it.  She skipt round th founten garden, and up wun wauk and doun anuther.  She skipt at last into th kichen-garden and saw Ben Weatherstaff diging and tauking to his robin, which was hoping about him.  She skipt doun th wauk tord him and he lifted his hed and luukt at her with a cuerius expreshun.  She had wunderd if he wuud noetis her.  She wonted him to see her skip. 

"Wel!" he exclaemd.  "Upon mi werd.  P'raps tha' art a yung 'un, after all, an' p'raps tha's got child's blud in thi vaens insted of sour butermilk.  Tha's skipt red into thi cheeks as shur as mi name's Ben Weatherstaff.  I wuudn't hav beleevd tha' cuud do it."

"I never skipt befor," Mary sed.  "I'm just begining.  I can oenly go up to twenty."

"Tha' keep on," sed Ben.  "Tha' shaeps wel enuf at it for a yung 'un that's livd with heethen.  Just see how he's watchin' thee," jerking his hed tord th robin.  "He foloed after thee yesterdae.  He'l be at it agen todae.  He'l be bound to fiend out whut th' skippin'-roep is.  He's never seen wun.  Eh!" shaeking his hed at th berd, "tha' cueriosity wil be th' deth of thee sumtiem if tha' duzn't luuk sharp."

Mary skipt round all th gardens and round th orchard, resting evry fue minits.  At length she went to her oen speshal wauk and maed up her miend to tri if she cuud skip th hoel length of it.  It was a guud long skip and she began sloely, but befor she had gon haf-wae doun th path she was so hot and brethles that she was obliejd to stop.  She did not miend much, becauz she had allredy counted up to therty.  She stopt with a litl laf of plezher, and thair, lo and behoeld, was th robin swaeing on a long branch of ievy.  He had foloed her and he greeted her with a churp.  As Mary had skipt tord him she felt sumthing hevy in her poket striek agenst her at eech jump, and when she saw th robin she laft agen. 

"U shoed me wherr th kee was yesterdae," she sed.  "U aut to sho me th dor todae; but I don't beleev U noe!"

Th robin floo frum his swinging sprae of ievy on to th top of th wall and he oepend his beek and sang a loud, luvly tril, meerly to sho off.  Nuthing in th werld is qiet as adorably luvly as a robin when he shoes off--and thae ar neerly allwaes doing it. 

Mary Lennox had herd a graet deel about Majic in her Ayah's storys, and she allwaes sed that whut hapend allmoest at that moement was Majic. 

Wun of th nies litl gusts of wind rusht doun th wauk, and it was a strongger wun than th rest.  It was strong enuf to waev th branches of th trees, and it was mor than strong enuf to swae th traeling spraes of untrimmed ievy hanging frum th wall.  Mary had stept cloes to th robin, and sudenly th gust of wind swung asied sum loos ievy traels, and mor sudenly stil she jumpt tord it and caut it in her hand.  This she did becauz she had seen sumthing under it--a round nob which had bin cuverd bi th leevs hanging oever it.  It was th nob of a dor. 

She puut her hands under th leevs and began to puul and puush them asied.  Thik as th ievy hung, it neerly all was a loos and swinging curten, tho sum had crept oever wuud and ieern.  Mary's hart began to thump and her hands to shaek a litl in her deliet and exsietment.  Th robin kept singing and twitering awae and tilting his hed on wun sied, as if he wer as exsieted as she was.  Whut was this under her hands which was sqair and maed of ieern and which her finggers found a hoel in?

It was th lok of th dor which had bin cloezd ten yeers and she puut her hand in her poket, droo out th kee and found it fited th keehoel.  She puut th kee in and ternd it.  It tuuk too hands to do it, but it did tern. 

And then she tuuk a long breth and luukt behiend her up th long wauk to see if eny wun was cuming.  No wun was cuming.  No wun ever did cum, it seemd, and she tuuk anuther long breth, becauz she cuud not help it, and she held bak th swinging curten of ievy and puusht bak th dor which oepend sloely--sloely.

Then she slipt thru it, and shut it behiend her, and stuud with her bak agenst it, luuking about her and breething qiet fast with exsietment, and wunder, and deliet. 

She was standing insied th seecret garden. 





CHAPTER IX

TH STRAENJEST HOUS ENY WUN EVER LIVD IN


 It was th sweetest, moest misteerius-luuking plaes eny wun cuud imajin.  Th hi walls which shut it in wer cuverd with th leafless stems of clieming roezes which wer so thik that thae wer matted together.  Mary Lennox nue thae wer roezes becauz she had seen a graet meny roezes in India.  All th ground was cuverd with gras of a wintry broun and out of it groo clumps of buushes which wer shurly rosebushes if thae wer aliev.  Thair wer numbers of standard roezes which had so spred thair branches that thae wer liek litl trees.  Thair wer uther trees in th garden, and wun of th things which maed th plaes luuk straenjest and luvlyest was that clieming roezes had run all oever them and swung doun long tendrils which maed liet swaeing curtens, and heer and thair thae had caut at eech uther or at a far-reeching branch and had crept frum wun tree to anuther and maed luvly brijes of themselvs.  Thair wer neether leevs nor roezes on them now and Mary did not noe whether thae wer ded or aliev, but thair thin grae or broun branches and spraes luukt liek a sort of haezy mantl spreding oever evrything, walls, and trees, and eeven broun gras, wherr thae had fallen frum thair fasenings and run along th ground.  It was this haezy tanggl frum tree to tree which maed it all luuk so misteerius.  Mary had thaut it must be diferent frum uther gardens which had not bin left all bi themselvs so long; and indeed it was diferent frum eny uther plaes she had ever seen in her lief. 

"How stil it is!" she whisperd.  "How stil!"

Then she waeted a moement and lisend at th stilnes.  Th robin, hoo had floen to his treetop, was stil as all th rest.  He did not eeven fluter his wings; he sat without stering, and luukt at Mary. 

"No wunder it is stil," she whisperd agen.  "I am th ferst person hoo has spoeken in heer for ten yeers."

She moovd awae frum th dor, steping as sofftly as if she wer afraed of awaekening sum wun.  She was glad that thair was gras under her feet and that her steps maed no sounds.  She waukt under wun of th fairy-liek grae arches between th trees and luukt up at th spraes and tendrils which formd them.  "I wunder if thae ar all qiet ded," she sed.  "Is it all a qiet ded garden? I wish it wasn't."

If she had bin Ben Weatherstaff she cuud hav toeld whether th wuud was aliev bi luuking at it, but she cuud oenly see that thair wer oenly grae or broun spraes and branches and nun shoed eny siens of eeven a tieny leef-bud enywhair. 

But she was insied th wunderful garden and she cuud cum thru th dor under th ievy eny tiem and she felt as if she had found a werld all her oen. 

Th sun was shiening insied th foer walls and th hi arch of bloo skie oever this particuelar pees of Misselthwaite seemd eeven mor brilyant and sofft than it was oever th mur.  Th robin floo doun frum his tree-top and hopt about or floo after her frum wun buush to anuther.  He cherpt a guud deel and had a verry bizy air, as if he wer shoeing her things.  Evrything was straenj and sielent and she seemd to be hundreds of miels awae frum eny wun, but sumhow she did not feel loenly at all.  All that trubld her was her wish that she nue whether all th roezes wer ded, or if perhaps sum of them had livd and miet puut out leevs and buds as th wether got wormer.  She did not wont it to be a qiet ded garden.  If it wer a qiet aliev garden, how wunderful it wuud be, and whut thouzands of roezes wuud gro on evry sied!

Her skiping-roep had hung oever her arm when she caem in and after she had waukt about for a whiel she thaut she wuud skip round th hoel garden, stoping when she wonted to luuk at things.  Thair seemd to hav bin gras paths heer and thair, and in wun or too corners thair wer alcoevs of evergreen with stoen seets or tall moss-cuverd flower erns in them. 

As she caem neer th second of thees alcoevs she stopt skiping.  Thair had wuns bin a flowerbed in it, and she thaut she saw sumthing stiking out of th blak erth- -sum sharp litl pael green points.  She rememberd whut Ben Weatherstaff had sed and she nelt doun to luuk at them. 

"Yes, thae ar tieny groeing things and thae miet be crocuses or snoedrops or dafodils," she whisperd. 

She bent verry cloes to them and snift th fresh sent of th damp erth.  She liekt it verry much. 

"Perhaps thair ar sum uther wuns cuming up in uther plaeses," she sed.  "I wil go all oever th garden and luuk."

She did not skip, but waukt.  She went sloely and kept her ies on th ground.  She luukt in th oeld border beds and amung th gras, and after she had gon round, trieing to mis nuthing, she had found ever so meny mor sharp, pael green points, and she had becum qiet exsieted agen. 

"It isn't a qiet ded garden," she cried out sofftly to herself.  "Eeven if th roezes ar ded, thair ar uther things aliev."

She did not noe enything about gardning, but th gras seemd so thik in sum of th plaeses wherr th green points wer puushing thair wae thru that she thaut thae did not seem to hav room enuf to gro.  She sercht about until she found a rather sharp pees of wuud and nelt doun and dug and weeded out th weeds and gras until she maed nies litl cleer plaeses around them. 

"Now thae luuk as if thae cuud breeth," she sed, after she had finisht with th ferst wuns.  "I am going to do ever so meny mor.  I'l do all I can see.  If I havn't tiem todae I can cum tomorro."

She went frum plaes to plaes, and dug and weeded, and enjoid herself so imensly that she was led on frum bed to bed and into th gras under th trees.  Th exersiez maed her so worm that she ferst throo her coet off, and then her hat, and without noeing it she was smieling doun on to th gras and th pael green points all th tiem. 

Th robin was tremendusly bizy.  He was verry much pleezd to see gardning begun on his oen estaet.  He had offen wunderd at Ben Weatherstaff.  Wherr gardning is dun all sorts of delietful things to eet ar ternd up with th soil.  Now heer was this nue kiend of creecher hoo was not haf Ben's siez and yet had had th sens to cum into his garden and begin at wuns. 

Mistres Mary werkt in her garden until it was tiem to go to her middae diner.  In fact, she was rather laet in remembering, and when she puut on her coet and hat, and pikt up her skiping-roep, she cuud not beleev that she had bin werking too or three ours.  She had bin akchualy hapy all th tiem; and duzens and duzens of th tieny, pael green points wer to be seen in cleerd plaeses, luuking twies as cheerful as thae had luukt befor when th gras and weeds had bin smuthering them. 

"I shal cum bak this afternoon," she sed, luuking all round at her nue kingdom, and speeking to th trees and th roez-buushes as if thae herd her. 

Then she ran lietly across th gras, puusht oepen th slo oeld dor and slipt thru it under th ievy.  She had such red cheeks and such briet ies and aet such a diner that Martha was delieted. 

"Too peeses o' meet an' too helps o' ries puddin'!" she sed.  "Eh! muther wil be pleezd when I tel her whut th' skippin'-rope's dun for thee."

In th cors of her diging with her pointed stik Mistres Mary had found herself diging up a sort of whiet root rather liek an unyon.  She had puut it bak in its plaes and pated th erth cairfuly doun on it and just now she wunderd if Martha cuud tel her whut it was. 

"Martha," she sed, "whut ar thoes whiet roots that luuk liek unyons?"

"Thae'r bulbs," anserd Martha.  "Lots o' spring flowers gro frum 'em. Th' verry litl wuns ar snoedrops an' crocuses an' th' big wuns ar narcissuses an' jonquils and daffydowndillys.  Th' bigest of all is lilys an' perpl flags.  Eh! thae ar nies.  Dickon's got a hoel lot of 'em planted in our bit o' garden."

"Duz Dickon noe all about them?" askt Mary, a nue iedeea taeking pozeshun of her. 

"Our Dickon can maek a flower gro out of a brik wauk.  Muther ses he just whispers things out o' th' ground."

"Do bulbs liv a long tiem? Wuud thae liv yeers and yeers if no wun helpt them?" inqierd Mary ankshusly. 

"Thae'r things as helps themselvs," sed Martha.  "That's whi pur foek can aford to hav 'em. If U don't trubl 'em, moest of 'em'll werk awae underground for a lieftiem an' spred out an' hav litl 'uns. Thair's a plaes in th' park wuuds heer wherr thair's snoedrops bi thouzands.  Thae'r th prityest siet in Yorkshire when th' spring cums.  No wun noes when thae was ferst planted."

"I wish th spring was heer now," sed Mary.  "I wont to see all th things that gro in England."

She had finisht her diner and gon to her faevorit seet on th harth-rug.

"I wish--I wish I had a litl spaed," she sed.  "Whutever duz tha' wont a spaed for?" askt Martha, lafing.  "Art tha' goin' to taek to diggin'? I must tel muther that, too."

Mary luukt at th fier and ponderd a litl.  She must be cairful if she ment to keep her seecret kingdom.  She wasn't doing eny harm, but if Mr. Craeven found out about th oepen dor he wuud be feerfuly anggry and get a nue kee and lok it up forevermor.  She reealy cuud not bair that. 

"This is such a big loenly plaes," she sed sloely, as if she wer terning maters oever in her miend.  "Th hous is loenly, and th park is loenly, and th gardens ar loenly.  So meny plaeses seem shut up.  I never did meny things in India, but thair wer mor peepl to luuk at--naetivs and soeljers marching bi--and sumtiems bands plaeing, and mi Ayah toeld me storys.  Thair is no wun to tauk to heer exsept U and Ben Weatherstaff.  And U hav to do yur werk and Ben Weatherstaff woen't speek to me offen.  I thaut if I had a litl spaed I cuud dig sumwherr as he duz, and I miet maek a litl garden if he wuud giv me sum seeds."

Martha's faes qiet lieted up. 

"Thair now!" she exclaemd, "if that wasn't wun of th' things muther sed.  She ses, `Thair's such a lot o' room in that big plaes, whi don't thae giv her a bit for herself, eeven if she duzn't plant nothin' but parsly an' radishes? She'd dig an' raek awae an' be riet doun hapy oever it.' Them was th verry werds she sed."

"Wer thae?" sed Mary.  "How meny things she noes, duzn't she?"

"Eh!" sed Martha.  "It's liek she ses: `A wuuman as brings up twelv children lerns sumthing besieds her A B C. Children's as guud as 'rithmetic to set U findin' out things.'"

"How much wuud a spaed cost--a litl wun?" Mary askt. 

"Wel," was Martha's reflectiv anser, "at Thwaite vilej thair's a shop or so an' I saw litl garden sets with a spaed an' a raek an' a fork all tied together for too shilings.  An' thae was stout enuf to werk with, too."

"I'v got mor than that in mi pers," sed Mary.  "Mrs. Morrison gaev me fiev shilings and Mrs. Medlock gaev me sum muny frum Mr. Craeven."

"Did he remember thee that much?" exclaemd Martha. 

"Mrs. Medlock sed I was to hav a shiling a week to spend.  She givs me wun evry Saturday.  I didn't noe whut to spend it on."

"Mi werd! that's riches," sed Martha.  "Tha' can bi enything in th' werld tha' wonts.  Th' rent of our cotej is oenly wun an' threpens an' it's liek pullin' ie-teeth to get it.  Now I'v just thaut of somethin'," puuting her hands on her hips. 

"Whut?" sed Mary eegerly. 

"In th shop at Thwaite thae sel pakejes o' flower-seeds for a peny eech, and our Dickon he noes which is th' prityest wuns an, how to maek 'em gro.  He wauks oever to Thwaite meny a dae just for th' fun of it.  Duz tha' noe how to print leters?" sudenly. 

"I noe how to riet," Mary anserd. 

Martha shuuk her hed. 

"Our Dickon can oenly reed printin'. If tha' cuud print we cuud riet a leter to him an' ask him to go an' bi th' garden tools an' th' seeds at th' saem tiem."

"O! U'r a guud gerl!" Mary cried.  "U ar, reealy! I didn't noe U wer so nies.  I noe I can print leters if I tri.  Let's ask Mrs. Medlock for a pen and ink and sum paeper."

"I'v got sum of mi oen," sed Martha.  "I baut 'em so I cuud print a bit of a leter to muther of a Sunday.  I'l go and get it." She ran out of th room, and Mary stuud bi th fier and twisted her thin litl hands together with sheer plezher. 

"If I hav a spaed," she whisperd, "I can maek th erth nies and sofft and dig up weeds.  If I hav seeds and can maek flowers gro th garden woen't be ded at all--it wil cum aliev."

She did not go out agen that afternoon becauz when Martha reternd with her pen and ink and paeper she was obliejd to cleer th taebl and carry th plates and dishes dounstairs and when she got into th kichen Mrs. Medlock was thair and toeld her to do sumthing, so Mary waeted for whut seemd to her a long tiem befor she caem bak.  Then it was a seerius pees of werk to riet to Dickon.  Mary had bin taut verry litl becauz her governesses had disliekt her too much to stae with her.  She cuud not spel particuelarly wel but she found that she cuud print leters when she tried.  This was th leter Martha dictaeted to her: "Mi Deer Dickon:

This cums hoeping to fiend U wel as it leevs me at prezent.  Mis Mary has plenty of muny and wil U go to Thwaite and bi her sum flower seeds and a set of garden tools to maek a flower-bed. Pik th prityest wuns and eezy to gro becauz she has never dun it befor and livd in India which is diferent.  Giv mi luv to muther and evry wun of U.  Mis Mary is going to tel me a lot mor so that on mi next dae out U can heer about elefants and camels and jentlmen going hunting lieons and tiegers. 

                     "Yur luving sister,                                        Martha Phoebe Sowerby."

"We'll puut th muny in th' enveloep an' I'l get th' buucher boi to taek it in his cart.  He's a graet frend o' Dickon's," sed Martha. 

"How shal I get th things when Dickon bies them?"

"He'l bring 'em to U himself.  He'l liek to wauk oever this wae."

"O!" exclaemd Mary, "then I shal see him! I never thaut I shuud see Dickon."

"Duz tha' wont to see him?" askt Martha sudenly, for Mary had luukt so pleezd. 

"Yes, I do.  I never saw a boi foxes and croes luvd.  I wont to see him verry much."

Martha gaev a litl start, as if she rememberd sumthing.  "Now to think," she broek out, "to think o' me forgettin' that thair; an' I thaut I was goin' to tel U ferst thing this mornin'. I askt muther--and she sed she'd ask Mrs. Medlock her oen self."

"Do U meen--" Mary began. 

"Whut I sed Tuesday.  Ask her if U miet be driven oever to our cotej sum dae and hav a bit o' mother's hot oat caek, an' buter, an' a glas o' milk."

It seemd as if all th interesting things wer hapening in wun dae.  To think of going oever th mur in th daeliet and when th skie was bloo! To think of going into th cotej which held twelv children!

"Duz she think Mrs. Medlock wuud let me go?" she askt, qiet ankshusly. 

"Ae, she thinks she wuud.  She noes whut a tiedy wuuman muther is and how cleen she keeps th cotej."

"If I went I shuud see yur muther as wel as Dickon," sed Mary, thinking it oever and lieking th iedeea verry much.  "She duzn't seem to be liek th muthers in India."

Her werk in th garden and th exsietment of th afternoon ended bi maeking her feel qieet and thautful.  Martha staed with her until tee-tiem, but thae sat in cumfortabl qieet and taukt verry litl.  But just befor Martha went dounstairs for th tee-trae, Mary askt a qeschun. 

"Martha," she sed, "has th sculery-maed had th toothaek agen todae?"

Martha sertenly started slietly. 

"Whut maeks thee ask that?" she sed. 

"Becauz when I waeted so long for U to cum bak I oepend th dor and waukt doun th coridor to see if U wer cuming.  And I herd that far-off crieing agen, just as we herd it th uther niet.  Thair isn't a wind todae, so U see it cuudn't hav bin th wind."

"Eh!" sed Martha restlesly.  "Tha' mustn't go walkin' about in coridors an' listenin'. Mr. Craeven wuud be that thair anggry thair's no knowin' whut he'd do."

"I wasn't lisening," sed Mary.  "I was just waeting for U--and I herd it.  That's three tiems."

"Mi werd! Thair's Mrs. Medlock's bel," sed Martha, and she allmoest ran out of th room. 

"It's th straenjest hous eny wun ever livd in," sed Mary drouzily, as she dropt her hed on th cushioned seet of th armchair neer her.  Fresh air, and diging, and skiping-roep had maed her feel so cumfortably tierd that she fel asleep. 





CHAPTER X

DICKON


 Th sun shoen doun for neerly a week on th seecret garden.  Th Seecret Garden was whut Mary calld it when she was thinking of it.  She liekt th naem, and she liekt stil mor th feeling that when its buetyful oeld walls shut her in no wun nue wherr she was.  It seemd allmoest liek being shut out of th werld in sum fairy plaes.  Th fue buuks she had reed and liekt had bin fairy-story buuks, and she had reed of seecret gardens in sum of th storys.  Sumtiems peepl went to sleep in them for a hundred yeers, which she had thaut must be rather stoopid.  She had no intenshun of going to sleep, and, in fact, she was becuming wieder awaek evry dae which past at Misselthwaite.  She was begining to liek to be out of dors; she no longger haeted th wind, but enjoid it.  She cuud run faster, and longger, and she cuud skip up to a hundred.  Th bulbs in th seecret garden must hav bin much astonisht.  Such nies cleer plaeses wer maed round them that thae had all th breething spaes thae wonted, and reealy, if Mistres Mary had noen it, thae began to cheer up under th dark erth and werk tremendusly.  Th sun cuud get at them and worm them, and when th raen caem doun it cuud reech them at wuns, so thae began to feel verry much aliev. 

Mary was an od, determind litl person, and now she had sumthing interesting to be determind about, she was verry much absorbd, indeed.  She werkt and dug and puuld up weeds stedily, oenly becuming mor pleezd with her werk evry our insted of tiering of it.  It seemd to her liek a fasinaeting sort of plae.  She found meny mor of th sprouting pael green points than she had ever hoept to fiend.  Thae seemd to be starting up evrywhair and eech dae she was shur she found tieny nue wuns, sum so tieny that thae bairly peeped abuv th erth.  Thair wer so meny that she rememberd whut Martha had sed about th "snoedrops bi th thouzands," and about bulbs spreding and maeking nue wuns.  Thees had bin left to themselvs for ten yeers and perhaps thae had spred, liek th snoedrops, into thouzands.  She wunderd how long it wuud be befor thae shoed that thae wer flowers.  Sumtiems she stopt diging to luuk at th garden and tri to imajin whut it wuud be liek when it was cuverd with thouzands of luvly things in bloom.  During that week of sunshien, she becaem mor intimet with Ben Weatherstaff.  She serpriezd him several tiems bi seeming to start up besied him as if she sprang out of th erth.  Th trooth was that she was afraed that he wuud pik up his tools and go awae if he saw her cuming, so she allwaes waukt tord him as sielently as posibl.  But, in fact, he did not object to her as strongly as he had at ferst.  Perhaps he was seecretly rather flaterd bi her evident dezier for his elderly cumpany.  Then, allso, she was mor sivil than she had bin.  He did not noe that when she ferst saw him she spoek to him as she wuud hav spoeken to a naetiv, and had not noen that a cross, sterdy oeld Yorkshire man was not acustomd to salaam to his masters, and be meerly comanded bi them to do things. 

"Tha'rt liek th' robin," he sed to her wun morning when he lifted his hed and saw her standing bi him.  "I never noes when I shal see thee or which sied tha'll cum frum."

"He's frends with me now," sed Mary. 

"That's liek him," snapt Ben Weatherstaff.  "Makin' up to th' wimen foek just for vanity an' flietynes.  Thair's nothin' he wuudn't do for th' saek o' showin' off an' flirtin' his tael-fethers. He's as fuul o' pried as an egg's fuul o' meet."

He verry seldom taukt much and sumtiems did not eeven anser Mary's qeschuns exsept bi a grunt, but this morning he sed mor than uezhual.  He stuud up and rested wun hobnailed boot on th top of his spaed whiel he luukt her oever. 

"How long has tha' bin heer?" he jerkt out. 

"I think it's about a munth," she anserd. 

"Tha's beginnin' to do Misselthwaite credit," he sed.  "Tha's a bit fater than tha' was an' tha's not qiet so yeler.  Tha' luukt liek a yung plukt cro when tha' ferst caem into this garden.  Thinks I to mieself I never set ies on an uglyer, sourer faest yung 'un."

Mary was not vaen and as she had never thaut much of her luuks she was not graetly disterbd. 

"I noe I'm fater," she sed.  "Mi stokings ar geting tieter.  Thae uezd to maek rinkls.  Thair's th robin, Ben Weatherstaff."

Thair, indeed, was th robin, and she thaut he luukt nieser than ever.  His red waestcoet was as glossy as satin and he flerted his wings and tael and tilted his hed and hopt about with all sorts of lievly graeses.  He seemd determind to maek Ben Weatherstaff admier him.  But Ben was sarcastic. 

"Ae, thair tha' art!" he sed.  "Tha' can puut up with me for a bit sumtiems when tha's got no wun beter.  Tha's bin reddenin' up thi waestcoet an' polishin' thi fethers this too weeks.  I noe whut tha's up to.  Tha's courtin' sum boeld yung madam sumwherr tellin' thi lies to her about bein' th' fienest cok robin on Missel Mur an' redy to fiet all th' rest of 'em."

"O! luuk at him!" exclaemd Mary. 

Th robin was evidently in a fasinaeting, boeld mood.  He hopt cloeser and cloeser and luukt at Ben Weatherstaff mor and mor engaejingly.  He floo on to th neerest curant buush and tilted his hed and sang a litl song riet at him. 

"Tha' thinks tha'll get oever me bi doin' that," sed Ben, rinkling his faes up in such a wae that Mary felt shur he was trieing not to luuk pleezd.  "Tha' thinks no wun can stand out agenst thee--that's whut tha' thinks."

Th robin spred his wings--Mary cuud scairsly beleev her ies.  He floo riet up to th handl of Ben Weatherstaff's spaed and alieted on th top of it.  Then th oeld man's faes rinkld itself sloely into a nue expreshun.  He stuud stil as if he wer afraed to breeth--as if he wuud not hav sterd for th werld, lest his robin shuud start awae.  He spoek qiet in a whisper. 

"Wel, I'm danged!" he sed as sofftly as ifhe wer saeing sumthing qiet diferent.  "Tha' duz noe how to get at a chap--tha' duz! Tha's fair unerthly, tha's so knowin'."

And he stuud without stering--allmoest without drawing his breth--until th robin gaev anuther flert to his wings and floo awae.  Then he stuud luuking at th handl of th spaed as if thair miet be Majic in it, and then he began to dig agen and sed nuthing for several minits. 

But becauz he kept braeking into a slo grin now and then, Mary was not afraed to tauk to him. 

"Hav U a garden of yur oen?" she askt. 

"No. I'm bachelder an' loj with Martin at th' gaet."

"If U had wun," sed Mary, "whut wuud U plant?"

"Cabbages an' 'taters an' unyons."

"But if U wonted to maek a flower garden," persisted Mary, "whut wuud U plant?"

"Bulbs an' sweet-smellin' things--but moestly roezes."

Mary's faes lieted up. 

"Do U liek roezes?" she sed. 

Ben Weatherstaff rooted up a weed and throo it asied befor he anserd. 

"Wel, yes, I do.  I was lernd that bi a yung laedy I was gardner to.  She had a lot in a plaes she was fond of, an' she luvd 'em liek thae was children--or robins.  I'v seen her bend oever an' kis 'em." He dragd out anuther weed and scould at it.  "That wer as much as ten year' ago."

"Wherr is she now?" askt Mary, much interested. 

"Heven," he anserd, and droev his spaed deep into th soil, "'cording to whut parson ses."

"Whut hapend to th roezes?" Mary askt agen, mor interested than ever. 

"Thae was left to themselvs."

Mary was becuming qiet exsieted. 

"Did thae qiet die? Do roezes qiet die when thae ar left to themselvs?" she vencherd. 

"Wel, I'd got to liek 'em--an' I liekt her--an' she liekt 'em," Ben Weatherstaff admited reluctantly.  "Wuns or twies a yeer I'd go an' werk at 'em a bit--proon 'em an' dig about th' roots.  Thae run wield, but thae was in rich soil, so sum of 'em livd."

"When thae hav no leevs and luuk grae and broun and dri, how can U tel whether thae ar ded or aliev?" inqierd Mary. 

"Waet til th' spring gets at 'em--waet til th' sun shiens on th' raen and th' raen falls on th' sunshien an' then tha'll fiend out."

"How--how?" cried Mary, forgeting to be cairful.  "Luuk along th' twigs an' branches an' if tha' see a bit of a broun lump sweling heer an' thair, woch it after th' worm raen an' see whut hapens." He stopt sudenly and luukt cueriusly at her eeger faes.  "Whi duz tha' cair so much about roezes an' such, all of a suden?" he demanded. 

Mistres Mary felt her faes gro red.  She was allmoest afraed to anser. 

"I--I wont to plae that--that I hav a garden of mi oen," she stamerd.  "I--thair is nuthing for me to do.  I hav nuthing--and no wun."

"Wel," sed Ben Weatherstaff sloely, as he wocht her, "that's troo.  Tha' hasn't."

He sed it in such an od wae that Mary wunderd if he was akchualy a litl sorry for her.  She had never felt sorry for herself; she had oenly felt tierd and cross, becauz she disliekt peepl and things so much.  But now th werld seemd to be chaenjing and geting nieser.  If no wun found out about th seecret garden, she shuud enjoi herself allwaes. 

She staed with him for ten or fifteen minits longger and askt him as meny qeschuns as she daird.  He anserd evry wun of them in his qeer grunting wae and he did not seem reealy cross and did not pik up his spaed and leev her.  He sed sumthing about roezes just as she was going awae and it remiended her of th wuns he had sed he had bin fond of. 

"Do U go and see thoes uther roezes now?" she askt. 

"Not bin this yeer.  Mi roomatics has maed me too stif in th' joints."

He sed it in his grumbling vois, and then qiet sudenly he seemd to get anggry with her, tho she did not see whi he shuud. 

"Now luuk heer!" he sed sharply.  "Don't tha' ask so meny qeschuns.  Tha'rt th' werst wench for askin' qeschuns I'v ever cum a cross.  Get thee gon an' plae thee.  I'v dun talkin' for todae."

And he sed it so crossly that she nue thair was not th leest ues in staeing anuther minit.  She went skiping sloely doun th outsied wauk, thinking him oever and saeing to herself that, qeer as it was, heer was anuther person hoom she liekt in spiet of his crossness.  She liekt oeld Ben Weatherstaff.  Yes, she did liek him.  She allwaes wonted to tri to maek him tauk to her.  Allso she began to beleev that he nue evrything in th werld about flowers. 

Thair was a lorel-hejd wauk which curvd round th seecret garden and ended at a gaet which oepend into a wuud, in th park.  She thaut she wuud slip round this wauk and luuk into th wuud and see if thair wer eny rabits hoping about.  She enjoid th skiping verry much and when she reecht th litl gaet she oepend it and went thru becauz she herd a lo, pecuelyar whisling sound and wonted to fiend out whut it was. 

It was a verry straenj thing indeed.  She qiet caut her breth as she stopt to luuk at it.  A boi was siting under a tree, with his bak agenst it, plaeing on a ruf wuuden piep.  He was a funy luuking boi about twelv.  He luukt verry cleen and his noez ternd up and his cheeks wer as red as popys and never had Mistres Mary seen such round and such bloo ies in eny boy's faes.  And on th trunk of th tree he leend agenst, a broun sqerel was clinging and woching him, and frum behiend a buush neerbi a cok fezant was deliketly streching his nek to peep out, and qiet neer him wer too rabits siting up and snifing with tremuelus noezes--and akchualy it apeerd as if thae wer all drawing neer to woch him and lisen to th straenj lo litl call his piep seemd to maek. 

When he saw Mary he held up his hand and spoek to her in a vois allmoest as lo as and rather liek his pieping. 

"Don't tha' moov," he sed.  "It'd fliet 'em." Mary remaend moeshunles.  He stopt plaeing his piep and began to riez frum th ground.  He moovd so sloely that it scairsly seemd as tho he wer mooving at all, but at last he stuud on his feet and then th sqerel scamperd bak up into th branches of his tree, th fezant withdroo his hed and th rabits dropt on all foers and began to hop awae, tho not at all as if thae wer frietend. 

"I'm Dickon," th boi sed.  "I noe tha'rt Mis Mary."

Then Mary reealiezd that sumhow she had noen at ferst that he was Dickon.  Hoo els cuud hav bin charming rabits and fezants as th naetivs charm snaeks in India? He had a wied, red, curving mouth and his smiel spred all oever his faes. 

"I got up slo," he explaend, "becauz if tha' maeks a qik moov it startles 'em. A body 'as to moov jentl an' speek lo when wield things is about."

He did not speek to her as if thae had never seen eech uther befor but as if he nue her qiet wel.  Mary nue nuthing about bois and she spoek to him a litl stifly becauz she felt rather shi. 

"Did U get Martha's leter?" she askt. 

He noded his curly, rust-culord hed.  "That's whi I cum."

He stoopt to pik up sumthing which had bin lieing on th ground besied him when he piept. 

"I'v got th' garden tools.  Thair's a litl spaed an' raek an' a fork an' ho.  Eh! thae ar guud 'uns. Thair's a trowel, too.  An' th' wuuman in th' shop throo in a paket o' whiet popy an' wun o' bloo larksper when I baut th' uther seeds."

"Wil U sho th seeds to me?" Mary sed. 

She wisht she cuud tauk as he did.  His speech was so qik and eezy.  It sounded as if he liekt her and was not th leest afraed she wuud not liek him, tho he was oenly a comon mur boi, in pacht cloeths and with a funy faes and a ruf, rusty-red hed.  As she caem cloeser to him she noetist that thair was a cleen fresh sent of hether and gras and leevs about him, allmoest as if he wer maed of them.  She liekt it verry much and when she luukt into his funy faes with th red cheeks and round bloo ies she forgot that she had felt shi. 

"Let us sit doun on this log and luuk at them," she sed. 

Thae sat doun and he tuuk a clumzy litl broun paeper pakej out of his coet poket.  He untied th string and insied thair wer ever so meny neeter and smaller pakejes with a pikcher of a flower on eech wun. 

"Thair's a lot o' mignonette an' popys," he sed.  "Mignonette's th' sweetest smellin' thing as groes, an' it'l gro wherrever U cast it, saem as popys wil.  Them as'll cum up an' bloom if U just whisl to 'em, them's th' niesest of all." He stopt and ternd his hed qikly, his popy-cheeked faes lieting up. 

"Wherr's that robin as is callin' us?" he sed. 

Th churp caem frum a thik holy buush, briet with scarlet berrys, and Mary thaut she nue hoos it was. 

"Is it reealy calling us?" she askt. 

"Ae," sed Dickon, as if it was th moest nacheral thing in th werld, "he's callin' sum wun he's frends with.  That's saem as sayin' `Heer I am.  Luuk at me.  I wonts a bit of a chat.' Thair he is in th buush.  Hoos is he?"

"He's Ben Weatherstaff's, but I think he noes me a litl," anserd Mary. 

"Ae, he noes thee," sed Dickon in his lo vois agen.  "An' he lieks thee.  He's tuuk thee on.  He'l tel me all about thee in a minit."

He moovd qiet cloes to th buush with th slo moovment Mary had noetist befor, and then he maed a sound allmoest liek th robin's oen twiter.  Th robin lisend a fue seconds, intently, and then anserd qiet as if he wer replieing to a qeschun. 

"Ae, he's a frend o' yurs," chukld Dickon. 

"Do U think he is?" cried Mary eegerly.  She did so wont to noe.  "Do U think he reealy lieks me?"

"He wuudn't cum neer thee if he didn't," anserd Dickon.  "Berds is rair choosers an' a robin can flout a body wers than a man.  See, he's maeking up to thee now.  `Cannot tha' see a chap?' he's sayin'."

And it reealy seemd as if it must be troo.  He so sidled and twiterd and tilted as he hopt on his buush. 

"Do U understand evrything berds sae?" sed Mary. 

Dickon's grin spred until he seemd all wied, red, curving mouth, and he rubd his ruf hed. 

"I think I do, and thae think I do," he sed.  "I'v livd on th' mur with 'em so long.  I'v wocht 'em braek shel an' cum out an' fledge an' lern to fli an' begin to sing, til I think I'm wun of 'em. Sumtiems I think p'raps I'm a berd, or a fox, or a rabit, or a sqerel, or eeven a beetl, an' I don't noe it."

He laft and caem bak to th log and began to tauk about th flower seeds agen.  He toeld her whut thae luukt liek when thae wer flowers; he toeld her how to plant them, and woch them, and feed and wauter them. 

"See heer," he sed sudenly, terning round to luuk at her.  "I'l plant them for thee mieself.  Wherr is tha' garden?"

Mary's thin hands clucht eech uther as thae lae on her lap.  She did not noe whut to sae, so for a hoel minit she sed nuthing.  She had never thaut of this.  She felt mizerabl.  And she felt as if she went red and then pael. 

"Tha's got a bit o' garden, hasn't tha'?" Dickon sed. 

It was troo that she had ternd red and then pael.  Dickon saw her do it, and as she stil sed nuthing, he began to be puzld. 

"Wuudn't thae giv thee a bit?" he askt.  "Hasn't tha' got eny yet?"

She held her hands tieter and ternd her ies tord him. 

"I don't noe enything about bois," she sed sloely.  "Cuud U keep a seecret, if I toeld U wun? It's a graet seecret.  I don't noe whut I shuud do if eny wun found it out.  I beleev I shuud die!" She sed th last sentens qiet feersly. 

Dickon luukt mor puzld than ever and eeven rubd his hand oever his ruf hed agen, but he anserd qiet guud-huemordly. "I'm keepin' seecrets all th' tiem," he sed.  "If I cuudn't keep seecrets frum th' uther lads, seecrets about foxes' cubs, an' birds' nests, an' wield things' hoels, thair'd be naut saef on th' mur.  Ae, I can keep seecrets."

Mistres Mary did not meen to puut out her hand and cluch his sleev but she did it. 

"I'v stoelen a garden," she sed verry fast.  "It isn't mien.  It isn't anybody's. Noebody wonts it, noebody cairs for it, noebody ever goes into it.  Perhaps evrything is ded in it allredy.  I don't noe."

She began to feel hot and as contrairy as she had ever felt in her lief. 

"I don't cair, I don't cair! Noebody has eny riet to taek it frum me when I cair about it and thae don't. Thae'r leting it die, all shut in bi itself," she ended pashunetly, and she throo her arms oever her faes and berst out crieing-pur litl Mistres Mary. 

Dickon's cuerius bloo ies groo rounder and rounder.  "Eh-h-h!" he sed, drawing his exclamaeshun out sloely, and th wae he did it ment boeth wunder and simpathy. 

"I'v nuthing to do," sed Mary.  "Nuthing belongs to me.  I found it mieself and I got into it mieself.  I was oenly just liek th robin, and thae wuudn't taek it frum th robin." "Wherr is it?" askt Dickon in a dropt vois. 

Mistres Mary got up frum th log at wuns.  She nue she felt contrairy agen, and obstinet, and she did not cair at all.  She was impeerius and Indian, and at th saem tiem hot and sorroeful. 

"Cum with me and I'l sho U," she sed. 

She led him round th lorel path and to th wauk wherr th ievy groo so thikly.  Dickon foloed her with a qeer, allmoest pitying, luuk on his faes.  He felt as if he wer being led to luuk at sum straenj bird's nest and must moov sofftly.  When she stept to th wall and lifted th hanging ievy he started.  Thair was a dor and Mary puusht it sloely oepen and thae past in together, and then Mary stuud and waevd her hand round defieantly. 

"It's this," she sed.  "It's a seecret garden, and I'm th oenly wun in th werld hoo wonts it to be aliev."

Dickon luukt round and round about it, and round and round agen. 

"Eh!" he allmoest whisperd, "it is a qeer, prity plaes! It's liek as if a body was in a dreem."





CHAPTER XI

TH NEST OF TH MISSEL THRUSH


 For too or three minits he stuud luuking round him, whiel Mary wocht him, and then he began to wauk about sofftly, eeven mor lietly than Mary had waukt th ferst tiem she had found herself insied th foer walls.  His ies seemd to be taeking in evrything--th grae trees with th grae creepers clieming oever them and hanging frum thair branches, th tanggl on th walls and amung th gras, th evergreen alcoevs with th stoen seets and tall flower erns standing in them. 

"I never thaut I'd see this plaes," he sed at last, in a whisper. 

"Did U noe about it?" askt Mary. 

She had spoeken aloud and he maed a sien to her. 

"We must tauk lo," he sed, "or sum one'll heer us an' wunder whut's to do in heer."

"O! I forgot!" sed Mary, feeling frietend and puuting her hand qikly agenst her mouth.  "Did U noe about th garden?" she askt agen when she had recuverd herself.  Dickon noded. 

"Martha toeld me thair was wun as no wun ever went insied," he anserd.  "Us uezd to wunder whut it was liek."

He stopt and luukt round at th luvly grae tanggl about him, and his round ies luukt queerly hapy. 

"Eh! th nests as'll be heer cum springtiem," he sed.  "It'd be th' saefest nestin' plaes in England.  No wun never comin' neer an' tangles o' trees an' roezes to bild in.  I wunder all th' berds on th' mur don't bild heer."

Mistres Mary puut her hand on his arm agen without noeing it. 

"Wil thair be roezes?" she whisperd.  "Can U tel? I thaut perhaps thae wer all ded."

"Eh! No! Not them--not all of 'em!" he anserd.  "Luuk heer!"

He stept oever to th neerest tree--an oeld, oeld wun with grae lieken all oever its bark, but uphoelding a curten of tanggld spraes and branches.  He tuuk a thik nief out of his Poket and oepend wun of its blaeds. 

"Thair's lots o' ded wuud as aut to be cut out," he sed.  "An' thair's a lot o' oeld wuud, but it maed sum nue last yeer.  This heer's a nue bit," and he tucht a shoot which luukt brounish green insted of hard, dri grae.  Mary tucht it herself in an eeger, reverent wae. 

"That wun?" she sed.  "Is that wun qiet aliev qiet?"

Dickon curvd his wied smieling mouth. 

"It's as wik as U or me," he sed; and Mary rememberd that Martha had toeld her that "wik" ment "aliev" or "lievly."

"I'm glad it's wik!" she cried out in her whisper.  "I wont them all to be wik.  Let us go round th garden and count how meny wik wuns thair ar."

She qiet panted with eegernes, and Dickon was as eeger as she was.  Thae went frum tree to tree and frum buush to buush.  Dickon carryd his nief in his hand and shoed her things which she thaut wunderful. 

"Thae'v run wield," he sed, "but th' stronggest wuns has fair thrievd on it.  Th delicatest wuns has died out, but th' uthers has growed an' growed, an' spred an' spred, til they's a wunder.  See heer!" and he puuld doun a thik grae, dri-luuking branch.  "A body miet think this was ded wuud, but I don't beleev it is--doun to th' root.  I'l cut it lo doun an' see."

He nelt and with his nief cut th liefles-luuking branch thru, not far abuv th erth. 

"Thair!" he sed exultantly.  "I toeld thee so.  Thair's green in that wuud yet.  Luuk at it."

Mary was doun on her nees befor he spoek, gaezing with all her miet. 

"When it luuks a bit greenish an' joosy liek that, it's wik," he explaend.  "When th' insied is dri an' braeks eezy, liek this heer pees I'v cut off, it's dun for.  Thair's a big root heer as all this liev wuud sprung out of, an' if th' oeld wood's cut off an' it's dug round, and tuuk cair of thair'l be--" he stopt and lifted his faes to luuk up at th clieming and hanging spraes abuv him--"thair'l be a founten o' roezes heer this sumer."

Thae went frum buush to buush and frum tree to tree.  He was verry strong and clever with his nief and nue how to cut th dri and ded wuud awae, and cuud tel when an unpromising bow or twig had stil green lief in it.  In th cors of haf an our Mary thaut she cuud tel too, and when he cut thru a liefles-luuking branch she wuud cri out joifuly under her breth when she caut siet of th leest shaed of moist green.  Th spaed, and ho, and fork wer verry uesful.  He shoed her how to uez th fork whiel he dug about roots with th spaed and sterd th erth and let th air in. 

Thae wer werking industriusly round wun of th bigest standard roezes when he caut siet of sumthing which maed him uter an exclamaeshun of serpriez. 

"Whi!" he cried, pointing to th gras a fue feet awae.  "Hoo did that thair?"

It was wun of Mary's oen litl clearings round th pael green points. 

"I did it," sed Mary. 

"Whi, I thaut tha' didn't noe nothin' about gardenin'," he exclaemd. 

"I don't," she anserd, "but thae wer so litl, and th gras was so thik and strong, and thae luukt as if thae had no room to breeth.  So I maed a plaes for them.  I don't eeven noe whut thae ar."

Dickon went and nelt doun bi them, smieling his wied smiel. 

"Tha' was riet," he sed.  "A gardner cuudn't hav toeld thee beter.  Thae'l gro now liek Jack's been-stauk. Thae'r crocuses an' snoedrops, an' thees heer is narcissuses," terning to anuther pach, "an heer's daffydowndillys.  Eh! thae wil be a siet."

He ran frum wun cleering to anuther. 

"Tha' has dun a lot o' werk for such a litl wench," he sed, luuking her oever. 

"I'm groeing fater," sed Mary, "and I'm groeing strongger.  I uezd allwaes to be tierd.  When I dig I'm not tierd at all.  I liek to smel th erth when it's ternd up."

"It's rair guud for thee," he sed, noding his hed wiezly.  "Thair's naut as nies as th' smel o' guud cleen erth, exsept th' smel o' fresh growin' things when th' raen falls on 'em. I get out on th' mur meny a dae when it's rainin' an' I lie under a buush an' lisen to th' sofft swish o' drops on th' hether an, I just snif an, snif.  Mi noez end fair qivers liek a rabbit's, muther ses."

"Do U never cach coeld?" inqierd Mary, gaezing at him wunderingly.  She had never seen such a funy boi, or such a nies wun. 

"Not me," he sed, grining.  "I never ketched coeld sinss I was born.  I wasn't braut up nesh enuf.  I'v chaest about th' mur in all wethers saem as th' rabits duz.  Muther ses I'v snift up too much fresh air for twelv year' to ever get to sniffin' with coeld.  I'm as tuf as a whiet-thorn knobstick."

He was werking all th tiem he was tauking and Mary was foloeing him and helping him with her fork or th trowel. 

"Thair's a lot of werk to do heer!" he sed wuns, luuking about qiet exultantly. 

"Wil U cum agen and help me to do it?" Mary begd.  "I'm shur I can help, too.  I can dig and puul up weeds, and do whutever U tel me.  O! do cum, Dickon!"

"I'l cum evry dae if tha' wonts me, raen or shien," he anserd stoutly.  "It's th best fun I ever had in mi lief-- shut in heer an' wakenin' up a garden."

"If U wil cum," sed Mary, "if U wil help me to maek it aliev I'l--I don't noe whut I'l do," she ended helplesly.  Whut cuud U do for a boi liek that?

"I'l tel thee whut tha'll do," sed Dickon, with his hapy grin.  "Tha'll get fat an' tha'll get as hunggry as a yung fox an' tha'll lern how to tauk to th' robin saem as I do.  Eh! we'll hav a lot o' fun."

He began to wauk about, luuking up in th trees and at th walls and buushes with a thautful expreshun. 

"I wuudn't wont to maek it luuk liek a gardener's garden, all clipt an' spick an' span, wuud U?" he sed.  "It's nieser liek this with things runnin' wield, an' swingin' an' catchin' hoeld of eech uther."

"Don't let us maek it tiedy," sed Mary ankshusly.  "It wuudn't seem liek a seecret garden if it was tiedy."

Dickon stuud rubing his rusty-red hed with a rather puzld luuk.  "It's a seecret garden shur enuf," he sed, "but seems liek sum wun besieds th' robin must hav bin in it sinss it was shut up ten year' ago."

"But th dor was lokt and th kee was berryd," sed Mary.  "No wun cuud get in."

"That's troo," he anserd.  "It's a qeer plaes.  Seems to me as if thair'd bin a bit o' prunin' dun heer an' thair, laeter than ten year' ago."

"But how cuud it hav bin dun?" sed Mary. 

He was examining a branch of a standard roez and he shuuk his hed. 

"Ae! how cuud it!" he mermerd.  "With th' dor lokt an' th' kee berryd."

Mistres Mary allwaes felt that however meny yeers she livd she shuud never forget that ferst morning when her garden began to gro.  Of cors, it did seem to begin to gro for her that morning.  When Dickon began to cleer plaeses to plant seeds, she rememberd whut Bazil had sung at her when he wonted to tees her. 

"Ar thair eny flowers that luuk liek bels?" she inqierd. 

"Lilys o' th' valy duz," he anserd, diging awae with th trowel, "an' thair's Canterbury bels, an' campanulas."

"Let's plant sum," sed Mary.  "Thair's lilys o' th, valy heer allredy; I saw 'em. Thae'l hav growed too cloes an' we'll hav to separaet 'em, but thair's plenty.  Th' uther wuns taeks too yeers to bloom frum seed, but I can bring U sum bits o' plants frum our cotej garden.  Whi duz tha' wont 'em?"

Then Mary toeld him about Bazil and his bruthers and sisters in India and of how she had haeted them and of thair calling her "Mistres Mary Qiet Contrairy."

"Thae uezd to dans round and sing at me.  Thae sang--

         `Mistres Mary, qiet contrairy,          How duz yur garden gro?          With silver bels, and cockle shels,          And marigolds all in a ro.'

I just rememberd it and it maed me wunder if thair wer reealy flowers liek silver bels."

She fround a litl and gaev her trowel a rather spietful dig into th erth. 

"I wasn't as contrairy as thae wer."

But Dickon laft. 

"Eh!" he sed, and as he crumbld th rich blak soil she saw he was snifing up th sent of it.  "Thair duzn't seem to be no need for no wun to be contrairy when thair's flowers an' such liek, an' such lots o' frendly wield things runnin' about makin' hoems for themselvs, or buildin' nests an' singin' an' whistlin', duz thair?"

Mary, neeling bi him hoelding th seeds, luukt at him and stopt frouning. 

"Dickon," she sed, "U ar as nies as Martha sed U wer.  I liek U, and U maek th fifth person.  I never thaut I shuud liek fiev peepl."

Dickon sat up on his heels as Martha did when she was polishing th graet.  He did luuk funy and delietful, Mary thaut, with his round bloo ies and red cheeks and hapy luuking ternd-up noez. 

"Oenly fiev foek as tha' lieks?" he sed.  "Hoo is th' uther foer?"

"Yur muther and Martha," Mary chekt them off on her finggers, "and th robin and Ben Weatherstaff."

Dickon laft so that he was obliejd to stiefl th sound bi puuting his arm oever his mouth. 

"I noe tha' thinks I'm a qeer lad," he sed, "but I think tha' art th' qeerest litl las I ever saw."

Then Mary did a straenj thing.  She leend forward and askt him a qeschun she had never dreemd of asking eny wun befor.  And she tried to ask it in Yorkshire becauz that was his lan- guage, and in India a naetiv was allwaes pleezd if U nue his speech. 

"Duz tha' liek me?" she sed. 

"Eh!" he anserd hartily, "that I duz.  I lieks thee wunderful, an' so duz th' robin, I do beleev!"

"That's too, then," sed Mary.  "That's too for me."

And then thae began to werk harder than ever and mor joifuly.  Mary was startld and sorry when she herd th big clok in th cort-yard striek th our of her middae diner. 

"I shal hav to go," she sed mornfuly.  "And U wil hav to go too, woen't U?"

Dickon grind. 

"Mi dinner's eezy to carry about with me," he sed.  "Muther allwaes lets me puut a bit o' somethin' in mi poket."

He pikt up his coet frum th gras and braut out of a poket a lumpy litl bundl tied up in a qiet cleen, cors, bloo and whiet hankerchif.  It held too thik peeses of bred with a slies of sumthing laed between them. 

"It's oftenest naut but bred," he sed, "but I'v got a fien slies o' fat baecon with it todae."

Mary thaut it luukt a qeer diner, but he seemd redy to enjoi it. 

"Run on an' get thi victuals," he sed.  "I'l be dun with mien ferst.  I'l get sum mor werk dun befor I start bak hoem."

He sat doun with his bak agenst a tree. 

"I'l call th' robin up," he sed, "and giv him th' rind o' th' baecon to pek at.  Thae lieks a bit o' fat wunderful."

Mary cuud scairsly bair to leev him.  Sudenly it seemd as if he miet be a sort of wuud fairy hoo miet be gon when she caem into th garden agen.  He seemd too guud to be troo.  She went sloely haf-wae to th dor in th wall and then she stopt and went bak. 

"Whutever hapens, U--U never wuud tel?" she sed. 

His popy-culord cheeks wer distended with his ferst big biet of bred and baecon, but he manejd to smiel encurejingly. 

"If tha' was a missel thrush an' shoed me wherr thi nest was, duz tha' think I'd tel eny wun? Not me," he sed.  "Tha' art as saef as a missel thrush."

And she was qiet shur she was. 





CHAPTER XII

"MIET I HAV A BIT OF ERTH?"


 Mary ran so fast that she was rather out of breth when she reecht her room.  Her hair was rufld on her forhed and her cheeks wer briet pink.  Her diner was waeting on th taebl, and Martha was waeting neer it. 

"Tha's a bit laet," she sed.  "Wherr has tha' bin?"

"I'v seen Dickon!" sed Mary.  "I'v seen Dickon!"

"I nue he'd cum," sed Martha exultantly.  "How duz tha' liek him?"

"I think--I think he's buetyful!" sed Mary in a determind vois. 

Martha luukt rather taeken abak but she luukt pleezd, too. 

"Wel," she sed, "he's th' best lad as ever was born, but us never thaut he was hansum.  His noez terns up too much."

"I liek it to tern up," sed Mary. 

"An' his ies is so round," sed Martha, a triefl doutful.  "Tho thae'r a nies culor." "I liek them round," sed Mary.  "And thae ar exactly th culor of th skie oever th mur."

Martha beemd with satisfacshun. 

"Muther ses he maed 'em that culor with allwaes lookin' up at th' berds an' th' clouds.  But he has got a big mouth, hasn't he, now?"

"I luv his big mouth," sed Mary obstinately.  "I wish mien wer just liek it."

Martha chukld delightedly. 

"It'd luuk rair an' funy in thi bit of a faes," she sed.  "But I knowed it wuud be that wae when tha' saw him.  How did tha' liek th' seeds an' th' garden tools?"

"How did U noe he braut them?" askt Mary. 

"Eh! I never thaut of him not bringin' 'em. He'd be shur to bring 'em if thae was in Yorkshire.  He's such a trusty lad."

Mary was afraed that she miet begin to ask dificult qeschuns, but she did not.  She was verry much interested in th seeds and gardning tools, and thair was oenly wun moement when Mary was frietend.  This was when she began to ask wherr th flowers wer to be planted. 

"Hoo did tha' ask about it?" she inqierd. 

"I havn't askt enybody yet," sed Mary, hezitaeting.  "Wel, I wuudn't ask th' hed gardner.  He's too grand, Mr. Roech is."

"I'v never seen him," sed Mary.  "I'v oenly seen undergardeners and Ben Weatherstaff."

"If I was U, I'd ask Ben Weatherstaff," adviezd Martha.  "He's not haf as bad as he luuks, for all he's so crabd.  Mr. Craeven lets him do whut he lieks becauz he was heer when Mrs. Craeven was aliev, an' he uezd to maek her laf.  She liekt him.  Perhaps he'd fiend U a corner sumwherr out o' th wae."

"If it was out of th wae and no wun wonted it, no wun cuud miend mi having it, cuud thae?" Mary sed ankshusly. 

"Thair wuudn't be no reezon," anserd Martha.  "U wuudn't do no harm."

Mary aet her diner as qikly as she cuud and when she roez frum th taebl she was going to run to her room to puut on her hat agen, but Martha stopt her. 

"I'v got somethin' to tel U," she sed.  "I thaut I'd let U eet yur diner ferst.  Mr. Craeven caem bak this mornin' and I think he wonts to see U."

Mary ternd qiet pael. 

"O!" she sed.  "Whi! Whi! He didn't wont to see me when I caem.  I herd Picher sae he didn't." "Wel," explaend Martha, "Mrs. Medlock ses it's becauz o' muther.  She was walkin' to Thwaite vilej an' she met him.  She'd never spoek to him befor, but Mrs. Craeven had bin to our cotej too or three tiems.  He'd forgot, but muther hadn't an' she maed boeld to stop him.  I don't noe whut she sed to him about U but she sed somethin' as puut him in th' miend to see U befor he goes awae agen, tomorro."

"O!" cried Mary, "is he going awae tomorro? I am so glad!"

"He's goin' for a long tiem.  He mayn't cum bak til autum or winter.  He's goin' to travel in forin plaeses.  He's allwaes doin' it."

"O! I'm so glad--so glad!" sed Mary thankfully. 

If he did not cum bak until winter, or eeven autum, thair wuud be tiem to woch th seecret garden cum aliev.  Eeven if he found out then and tuuk it awae frum her she wuud hav had that much at leest. 

"When do U think he wil wont to see--"

She did not finish th sentens, becauz th dor oepend, and Mrs. Medlock waukt in.  She had on her best blak dres and cap, and her colar was fasend with a larj brooch with a pikcher of a man's faes on it.  It was a culord foetograf of Mr. Medlock hoo had died yeers ago, and she allwaes wor it when she was drest up.  She luukt nervus and exsieted. 

"Yur hair's ruf," she sed qikly.  "Go and brush it.  Martha, help her to slip on her best dres.  Mr. Craeven sent me to bring her to him in his study."

All th pink left Mary's cheeks.  Her hart began to thump and she felt herself chaenjing into a stif, plaen, sielent chield agen.  She did not eeven anser Mrs. Medlock, but ternd and waukt into her bedroom, foloed bi Martha.  She sed nuthing whiel her dres was chaenjd, and her hair brusht, and after she was qiet tiedy she foloed Mrs. Medlock doun th coridors, in sielens.  Whut was thair for her to sae? She was obliejd to go and see Mr. Craeven and he wuud not liek her, and she wuud not liek him.  She nue whut he wuud think of her. 

She was taeken to a part of th hous she had not bin into befor.  At last Mrs. Medlock nokt at a dor, and when sum wun sed, "Cum in," thae enterd th room together.  A man was siting in an armchair befor th fier, and Mrs. Medlock spoek to him. 

"This is Mis Mary, ser," she sed. 

"U can go and leev her heer.  I wil ring for U when I wont U to taek her awae," sed Mr. Craeven. 

When she went out and cloezd th dor, Mary cuud oenly stand waeting, a plaen litl thing, twisting her thin hands together.  She cuud see that th man in th chair was not so much a hunchbak as a man with hi, rather cruuked shoelders, and he had blak hair streekt with whiet.  He ternd his hed oever his hi shoelders and spoek to her. 

"Cum heer!" he sed. 

Mary went to him. 

He was not ugly.  His faes wuud hav bin hansum if it had not bin so mizerabl.  He luukt as if th siet of her weryd and freted him and as if he did not noe whut in th werld to do with her. 

"Ar U wel?" he askt. 

"Yes," anserd Mary. 

"Do thae taek guud cair of U?"

"Yes."

He rubd his forhed fretfuly as he luukt her oever. 

"U ar verry thin," he sed. 

"I am geting fater," Mary anserd in whut she nue was her stiffest wae. 

Whut an unhapy faes he had! His blak ies seemd as if thae scairsly saw her, as if thae wer seeing sumthing els, and he cuud hardly keep his thauts upon her. 

"I forgot U," he sed.  "How cuud I remember U? I intended to send U a guvernes or a ners, or sum wun of that sort, but I forgot."

"Pleez," began Mary.  "Pleez--" and then th lump in her throet choekt her. 

"Whut do U wont to sae?" he inqierd. 

"I am--I am too big for a ners," sed Mary.  "And pleez--pleez don't maek me hav a guvernes yet."

He rubd his forhed agen and staird at her. 

"That was whut th Sowerby wuuman sed," he muterd absentmiendedly. 

Then Mary gatherd a scrap of curej. 

"Is she--is she Martha's muther?" she stamerd. 

"Yes, I think so," he replied. 

"She noes about children," sed Mary.  "She has twelv.  She noes."

He seemd to rouz himself. 

"Whut do U wont to do?"

"I wont to plae out of dors," Mary anserd, hoeping that her vois did not trembl.  "I never liekt it in India.  It maeks me hunggry heer, and I am geting fater."

He was woching her. 

"Mrs. Sowerby sed it wuud do U guud.  Perhaps it wil," he sed.  "She thaut U had beter get strongger befor U had a guvernes."

"It maeks me feel strong when I plae and th wind cums oever th mur," argued Mary. 

"Wherr do U plae?" he askt next. 

"Evrywhair," gaspt Mary.  "Martha's muther sent me a skiping-roep. I skip and run--and I luuk about to see if things ar begining to stik up out of th erth.  I don't do eny harm."

"Don't luuk so frietend," he sed in a weryd vois.  "U cuud not do eny harm, a chield liek U! U mae do whut U liek."

Mary puut her hand up to her throet becauz she was afraed he miet see th exsieted lump which she felt jump into it.  She caem a step neerer to him. 

"Mae I?" she sed tremuelusly. 

Her ankshus litl faes seemd to wery him mor than ever. 

"Don't luuk so frietend," he exclaemd.  "Of cors U mae.  I am yur gardian, tho I am a pur wun for eny chield.  I cannot giv U tiem or atenshun.  I am too il, and reched and distracted; but I wish U to be hapy and cumfortabl.  I don't noe enything about children, but Mrs. Medlock is to see that U hav all U need.  I sent for U to-dae becauz Mrs. Sowerby sed I aut to see U.  Her dauter had taukt about U.  She thaut U needed fresh air and freedom and runing about."

"She noes all about children," Mary sed agen in spiet of herself. 

"She aut to," sed Mr. Craeven.  "I thaut her rather boeld to stop me on th mur, but she sed--Mrs. Craeven had bin kiend to her." It seemd hard for him to speek his ded wife's naem.  "She is a respectabl wuuman.  Now I hav seen U I think she sed sensibl things.  Plae out of dors as much as U liek.  It's a big plaes and U mae go wherr U liek and amuez yurself as U liek.  Is thair enything U wont?" as if a suden thaut had struk him.  "Do U wont tois, buuks, dols?"

"Miet I," qaeverd Mary, "miet I hav a bit of erth?"

In her eegernes she did not reealiez how qeer th werds wuud sound and that thae wer not th wuns she had ment to sae.  Mr. Craeven luukt qiet startld. 

"Erth!" he repeeted.  "Whut do U meen?"

"To plant seeds in--to maek things gro--to see them cum aliev," Mary fallterd. 

He gaezd at her a moement and then past his hand qikly oever his ies. 

"Do U--cair about gardens so much," he sed sloely. 

"I didn't noe about them in India," sed Mary.  "I was allwaes il and tierd and it was too hot.  I sumtiems maed littlebeds in th sand and stuk flowers in them.  But heer it is diferent."

Mr. Craeven got up and began to wauk sloely across th room. 

"A bit of erth," he sed to himself, and Mary thaut that sumhow she must hav remiended him of sumthing.  When he stopt and spoek to her his dark ies luukt allmoest sofft and kiend. 

"U can hav as much erth as U wont," he sed.  "U remiend me of sum wun els hoo luvd th erth and things that gro.  When U see a bit of erth U wont," with sumthing liek a smiel, "taek it, chield, and maek it cum aliev."

"Mae I taek it frum enywhair--if it's not wonted?"

"Enywhair," he anserd.  "Thair! U must go now, I am tierd." He tucht th bel to call Mrs. Medlock.  "Guud-bi. I shal be awae all sumer."

Mrs. Medlock caem so qikly that Mary thaut she must hav bin waeting in th coridor. 

"Mrs. Medlock," Mr. Craeven sed to her, "now I hav seen th chield I understand whut Mrs. Sowerby ment.  She must be les deliket befor she begins lesons.  Giv her simpl, helthy food.  Let her run wield in th garden.  Don't luuk after her too much.  She needs liberty and fresh air and romping about.  Mrs. Sowerby is to cum and see her now and then and she mae sumtiems go to th cotej."

Mrs. Medlock luukt pleezd.  She was releevd to heer that she need not "luuk after" Mary too much.  She had felt her a tiersum charj and had indeed seen as litl of her as she daird.  In adishun to this she was fond of Martha's muther. 

"Thank U, ser," she sed.  "Susan Sowerby and me went to scool together and she's as sensibl and guud-hearted a wuuman as U'd fiend in a day's wauk.  I never had eny children mieself and she's had twelv, and thair never was helthyer or beter wuns.  Mis Mary can get no harm frum them.  I'd allwaes taek Susan Sowerby's advies about children mieself.  She's whut U miet call helthy-miended--if U understand me."

"I understand," Mr. Craeven anserd.  "Taek Mis Mary awae now and send Picher to me."

When Mrs. Medlock left her at th end of her oen coridor Mary floo bak to her room.  She found Martha waeting thair.  Martha had, in fact, heryd bak after she had remoovd th diner servis. 

"I can hav mi garden!" cried Mary.  "I mae hav it wherr I liek! I am not going to hav a guvernes for a long tiem! Yur muther is cuming to see me and I mae go to yur cotej! He ses a litl gerl liek me cuud not do eny harm and I mae do whut I liek--enywhair!"

"Eh!" sed Martha delightedly, "that was nies of him wasn't it?"

"Martha," sed Mary solemly, "he is reealy a nies man, oenly his faes is so mizerabl and his forhed is all drawn together."

She ran as qikly as she cuud to th garden.  She had bin awae so much longger than she had thaut she shuud and she nue Dickon wuud hav to set out erly on his fiev-miel wauk.  When she slipt thru th dor under th ievy, she saw he was not werking wherr she had left him.  Th gardning tools wer laed together under a tree.  She ran to them, luuking all round th plaes, but thair was no Dickon to be seen.  He had gon awae and th seecret garden was empty--exsept for th robin hoo had just floen across th wall and sat on a standard roez-buush woching her.  "He's gon," she sed woefuly.  "O! was he--was he--was he oenly a wuud fairy?"

Sumthing whiet fasend to th standard roez-buush caut her ie.  It was a pees of paeper, in fact, it was a pees of th leter she had printed for Martha to send to Dickon.  It was fasend on th buush with a long thorn, and in a minit she nue Dickon had left it thair.  Thair wer sum rufly printed leters on it and a sort of pikcher.  At ferst she cuud not tel whut it was.  Then she saw it was ment for a nest with a berd siting on it.  Underneeth wer th printed leters and thae sed:

"I wil cum bak."





CHAPTER XIII

"I AM COLIN"


 Mary tuuk th pikcher bak to th hous when she went to her super and she shoed it to Martha. 

"Eh!" sed Martha with graet pried.  "I never nue our Dickon was as clever as that.  That thair's a pikcher of a missel thrush on her nest, as larj as lief an' twies as nacheral."

Then Mary nue Dickon had ment th pikcher to be a mesej.  He had ment that she miet be shur he wuud keep her seecret.  Her garden was her nest and she was liek a missel thrush.  O, how she did liek that qeer, comon boi!

She hoept he wuud cum bak th verry next dae and she fel asleep luuking forward to th morning. 

But U never noe whut th wether wil do in Yorkshire, particuelarly in th springtiem.  She was awaekend in th niet bi th sound of raen beeting with hevy drops agenst her windo.  It was poring doun in torents and th wind was "wuthering" round th corners and in th chimnys of th huej oeld hous.  Mary sat up in bed and felt mizerabl and anggry. 

"Th raen is as contrairy as I ever was," she sed.  "It caem becauz it nue I did not wont it."

She throo herself bak on her pilo and berryd her faes.  She did not cri, but she lae and haeted th sound of th hevily beeting raen, she haeted th wind and its "wuthering." She cuud not go to sleep agen.  Th mornful sound kept her awaek becauz she felt mornful herself.  If she had felt hapy it wuud probably hav luld her to sleep.  How it "wuthered" and how th big raendrops pord doun and beet agenst th paen!

"It sounds just liek a person lost on th mur and waandering on and on crieing," she sed. 

 She had bin lieing awaek terning frum sied to sied for about an our, when sudenly sumthing maed her sit up in bed and tern her hed tord th dor lisening.  She lisend and she lisend. 

"It isn't th wind now," she sed in a loud whisper.  "That isn't th wind.  It is diferent.  It is that crieing I herd befor."

Th dor of her room was ajar and th sound caem doun th coridor, a far-off faent sound of fretful crieing.  She lisend for a fue minits and eech minit she becaem mor and mor shur.  She felt as if she must fiend out whut it was.  It seemd eeven straenjer than th seecret garden and th berryd kee.  Perhaps th fact that she was in a rebelyus mood maed her boeld.  She puut her fuut out of bed and stuud on th flor. 

"I am going to fiend out whut it is," she sed.  "Evrybody is in bed and I don't cair about Mrs. Medlock--I don't cair!"

Thair was a candl bi her bedsied and she tuuk it up and went sofftly out of th room.  Th coridor luukt verry long and dark, but she was too exsieted to miend that.  She thaut she rememberd th corners she must tern to fiend th short coridor with th dor cuverd with tapestry--th wun Mrs. Medlock had cum thru th dae she lost herself.  Th sound had cum up that pasej.  So she went on with her dim liet, allmoest feeling her wae, her hart beeting so loud that she fansyd she cuud heer it.  Th far-off faent crieing went on and led her.  Sumtiems it stopt for a moement or so and then began agen.  Was this th riet corner to tern? She stopt and thaut.  Yes it was.  Doun this pasej and then to th left, and then up too braud steps, and then to th riet agen.  Yes, thair was th tapestry dor. 

She puusht it oepen verry jently and cloezd it behiend her, and she stuud in th coridor and cuud heer th crieing qiet plaenly, tho it was not loud.  It was on th uther sied of th wall at her left and a fue yards farther on thair was a dor.  She cuud see a glimer of liet cuming frum beneeth it.  Th Sumwun was crieing in that room, and it was qiet a yung Sumwun. 

So she waukt to th dor and puusht it oepen, and thair she was standing in th room!

It was a big room with aenshent, hansum fernicher in it.  Thair was a lo fier gloeing faently on th harth and a niet liet berning bi th sied of a carvd foer-poested bed hung with broecaed, and on th bed was lieing a boi, crieing fretfuly. 

Mary wunderd if she was in a reeal plaes or if she had fallen asleep agen and was dreeming without noeing it. 

Th boi had a sharp, deliket faes th culor of ievory and he seemd to hav ies too big for it.  He had allso a lot of hair which tumbld oever his forhed in hevy loks and maed his thin faes seem smaller.  He luukt liek a boi hoo had bin il, but he was crieing mor as if he wer tierd and cross than as if he wer in paen. 

Mary stuud neer th dor with her candl in her hand, hoelding her breth.  Then she crept across th room, and, as she droo neerer, th liet atracted th boy's atenshun and he ternd his hed on his pilo and staird at her, his grae ies oepening so wied that thae seemd imens. 

"Hoo ar U?" he sed at last in a haf-frietend whisper.  "Ar U a goest?"

"No, I am not," Mary anserd, her oen whisper sounding haf frietend.  "Ar U wun?"

He staird and staird and staird.  Mary cuud not help noetising whut straenj ies he had.  Thae wer aget grae and thae luukt too big for his faes becauz thae had blak lashes all round them. 

"No," he replied after waeting a moement or so.  "I am Colin."

"Hoo is Colin?" she fallterd. 

"I am Colin Craeven.  Hoo ar U?"

"I am Mary Lennox.  Mr. Craeven is mi unkl."

"He is mi faather," sed th boi. 

"Yur faather!" gaspt Mary.  "No wun ever toeld me he had a boi! Whi didn't thae?"

"Cum heer," he sed, stil keeping his straenj ies fixt on her with an ankshus expreshun. 

She caem cloes to th bed and he puut out his hand and tucht her. 

"U ar reeal, arn't U?" he sed.  "I hav such reeal dreems verry offen.  U miet be wun of them."

Mary had slipt on a wuulen raper befor she left her room and she puut a pees of it between his finggers. 

"Rub that and see how thik and worm it is," she sed.  "I wil pinch U a litl if U liek, to sho U how reeal I am.  For a minit I thaut U miet be a dreem too."

"Wherr did U cum frum?" he askt. 

"Frum mi oen room.  Th wind wuthered so I cuudn't go to sleep and I herd sum wun crieing and wonted to fiend out hoo it was.  Whut wer U crieing for?"

"Becauz I cuudn't go to sleep eether and mi hed aekt.  Tel me yur naem agen."

"Mary Lennox.  Did no wun ever tel U I had cum to liv heer?"

He was stil finggering th foeld of her raper, but he began to luuk a litl mor as if he beleevd in her reality. 

"No," he anserd.  "Thae daren't."

"Whi?" askt Mary. 

"Becauz I shuud hav bin afraed U wuud see me.  I woen't let peepl see me and tauk me oever."

"Whi?" Mary askt agen, feeling mor mistified evry moement. 

"Becauz I am liek this allwaes, il and having to lie doun.  Mi faather woen't let peepl tauk me oever eether.  Th servants ar not alowd to speek about me.  If I liv I mae be a hunchbak, but I shan't liv.  Mi faather haets to think I mae be liek him."

"O, whut a qeer hous this is!" Mary sed.  "Whut a qeer hous! Evrything is a kiend of seecret.  Rooms ar lokt up and gardens ar lokt up--and U! Hav U bin lokt up?"

"No. I stae in this room becauz I don't wont to be moovd out of it.  It tiers me too much."

"Duz yur faather cum and see U?" Mary vencherd. 

"Sumtiems. Jeneraly when I am asleep.  He duzn't wont to see me."

"Whi?" Mary cuud not help asking agen. 

A sort of anggry shado past oever th boy's faes. 

"Mi muther died when I was born and it maeks him reched to luuk at me.  He thinks I don't noe, but I'v herd peepl tauking.  He allmoest haets me."

"He haets th garden, becauz she died," sed Mary haf speeking to herself. 

"Whut garden?" th boi askt. 

"O! just--just a garden she uezd to liek," Mary stamerd.  "Hav U bin heer allwaes?" "Neerly allwaes.  Sumtiems I hav bin taeken to plaeses at th seesied, but I woen't stae becauz peepl stair at me.  I uezd to wair an ieern thing to keep mi bak straet, but a grand doctor caem frum London to see me and sed it was stoopid.  He toeld them to taek it off and keep me out in th fresh air.  I haet fresh air and I don't wont to go out."

"I didn't when ferst I caem heer," sed Mary.  "Whi do U keep luuking at me liek that?"

"Becauz of th dreems that ar so reeal," he anserd rather fretfuly.  "Sumtiems when I oepen mi ies I don't beleev I'm awaek."

"We'r boeth awaek," sed Mary.  She glanst round th room with its hi seeling and shadoey corners and dim fier-liet. "It luuks qiet liek a dreem, and it's th midl of th niet, and evrybody in th hous is asleep--evrybody but us.  We ar wied awaek."

"I don't wont it to be a dreem," th boi sed restlesly. 

Mary thaut of sumthing all at wuns. 

"If U don't liek peepl to see U," she began, "do U wont me to go awae?"

He stil held th foeld of her raper and he gaev it a litl puul. 

"No," he sed.  "I shuud be shur U wer a dreem if U went.  If U ar reeal, sit doun on that big fuutstool and tauk.  I wont to heer about U."

Mary puut doun her candl on th taebl neer th bed and sat doun on th cushioned stool.  She did not wont to go awae at all.  She wonted to stae in th misteerius hiden-awae room and tauk to th misteerius boi. 

"Whut do U wont me to tel U?" she sed. 

He wonted to noe how long she had bin at Misselthwaite; he wonted to noe which coridor her room was on; he wonted to noe whut she had bin doing; if she disliekt th mur as he disliekt it; wherr she had livd befor she caem to Yorkshire.  She anserd all thees qeschuns and meny mor and he lae bak on his pilo and lisend.  He maed her tel him a graet deel about India and about her voiej across th oeshan.  She found out that becauz he had bin an invalid he had not lernd things as uther children had.  Wun of his nerses had taut him to reed when he was qiet litl and he was allwaes reeding and luuking at pikchers in splendid buuks. 

Tho his faather rairly saw him when he was awaek, he was given all sorts of wunderful things to amuez himself with.  He never seemd to hav bin amuezd, however.  He cuud hav enything he askt for and was never maed to do enything he did not liek to do.  "Evrywun is obliejd to do whut pleezes me," he sed indiferently.  "It maeks me il to be anggry.  No wun beleevs I shal liv to gro up."

He sed it as if he was so acustomd to th iedeea that it had seest to mater to him at all.  He seemd to liek th sound of Mary's vois.  As she went on tauking he lisend in a drouzy, interested wae.  Wuns or twies she wunderd if he wer not grajualy falling into a doez.  But at last he askt a qeschun which oepend up a nue subject. 

"How oeld ar U?" he askt. 

"I am ten," anserd Mary, forgeting herself for th moement, "and so ar U."

"How do U noe that?" he demanded in a serpriezd vois. 

"Becauz when U wer born th garden dor was lokt and th kee was berryd.  And it has bin lokt for ten yeers."

Colin haf sat up, terning tord her, leening on his elboes. 

"Whut garden dor was lokt? Hoo did it? Wherr was th kee berryd?" he exclaemd as if he wer sudenly verry much interested. 

"It--it was th garden Mr. Craeven haets," sed Mary nervusly.  "He lokt th dor.  No wun--no wun nue wherr he berryd th kee." "Whut sort of a garden is it?" Colin persisted eegerly. 

"No wun has bin alowd to go into it for ten yeers," was Mary's cairful anser. 

But it was too laet to be cairful.  He was too much liek herself.  He too had had nuthing to think about and th iedeea of a hiden garden atracted him as it had atracted her.  He askt qeschun after qeschun.  Wherr was it? Had she never luukt for th dor? Had she never askt th gardners?

"Thae woen't tauk about it," sed Mary.  "I think thae hav bin toeld not to anser qeschuns."

"I wuud maek them," sed Colin. 

"Cuud U?" Mary fallterd, begining to feel frietend.  If he cuud maek peepl anser qeschuns, hoo nue whut miet hapen!

"Evrywun is obliejd to pleez me.  I toeld U that," he sed.  "If I wer to liv, this plaes wuud sumtiem belong to me.  Thae all noe that.  I wuud maek them tel me."

Mary had not noen that she herself had bin spoild, but she cuud see qiet plaenly that this misteerius boi had bin.  He thaut that th hoel werld belongd to him.  How pecuelyar he was and how cooly he spoek of not living. 

"Do U think U woen't liv?" she askt, partly becauz she was cuerius and partly in hoep of maeking him forget th garden. 

"I don't supoez I shal," he anserd as indiferently as he had spoeken befor.  "Ever sinss I remember enything I hav herd peepl sae I shan't. At ferst thae thaut I was too litl to understand and now thae think I don't heer.  But I do.  Mi doctor is mi father's cuzin.  He is qiet pur and if I die he wil hav all Misselthwaite when mi faather is ded.  I shuud think he wuudn't wont me to liv."

"Do U wont to liv?" inqierd Mary. 

"No," he anserd, in a cross, tierd fashun.  "But I don't wont to die.  When I feel il I lie heer and think about it until I cri and cri."

"I hav herd U crieing three tiems," Mary sed, "but I did not noe hoo it was.  Wer U crieing about that?" She did so wont him to forget th garden. 

"I dair sae," he anserd.  "Let us tauk about sumthing els.  Tauk about that garden.  Don't U wont to see it?"

"Yes," anserd Mary, in qiet a lo vois. 

"I do," he went on persistently.  "I don't think I ever reealy wonted to see enything befor, but I wont to see that garden.  I wont th kee dug up.  I wont th dor unlokt.  I wuud let them taek me thair in mi chair.  That wuud be gettingfresh air.  I am going to maek them oepen th dor."

He had becum qiet exsieted and his straenj ies began to shien liek stars and luukt mor imens than ever. 

"Thae hav to pleez me," he sed.  "I wil maek them taek me thair and I wil let U go, too."

Mary's hands clucht eech uther.  Evrything wuud be spoild--evrything! Dickon wuud never cum bak.  She wuud never agen feel liek a missel thrush with a saef-hiden nest. 

"O, don't--don't--don't--don't do that!" she cried out. 

He staird as if he thaut she had gon craezy!

"Whi?" he exclaemd.  "U sed U wonted to see it."

"I do," she anserd allmoest with a sob in her throet, "but if U maek them oepen th dor and taek U in liek that it wil never be a seecret agen."

He leend stil farther forward. 

"A seecret," he sed.  "Whut do U meen? Tel me."

Mary's werds allmoest tumbld oever wun anuther. 

"U see--U see," she panted, "if no wun noes but ourselvs--if thair was a dor, hiden sumwherr under th ievy--if thair was--and we cuud fiend it; and if we cuud slip thru it together and shut it behiend us, and no wun nue eny wun was insied and we calld it our garden and pretended that--that we wer missel thrushes and it was our nest, and if we plaed thair allmoest evry dae and dug and planted seeds and maed it all cum aliev--"

"Is it ded?" he interupted her. 

"It soon wil be if no wun cairs for it," she went on.  "Th bulbs wil liv but th roezes--"

He stopt her agen as exsieted as she was herself. 

"Whut ar bulbs?" he puut in qikly. 

"Thae ar dafodils and lilys and snoedrops.  Thae ar werking in th erth now--puushing up pael green points becauz th spring is cuming."

"Is th spring cuming?" he sed.  "Whut is it liek? U don't see it in rooms if U ar il."

"It is th sun shiening on th raen and th raen falling on th sunshien, and things puushing up and werking under th erth," sed Mary.  "If th garden was a seecret and we cuud get into it we cuud woch th things gro biger evry dae, and see how meny roezes ar aliev.  Don't U.  see? O, don't U see how much nieser it wuud be if it was a seecret?"

He dropt bak on his pilo and lae thair with an od expreshun on his faes. 

"I never had a seecret," he sed, "exsept that wun about not living to gro up.  Thae don't noe I noe that, so it is a sort of seecret.  But I liek this kiend beter."

"If U woen't maek them taek U to th garden," pleeded Mary, "perhaps--I feel allmoest shur I can fiend out how to get in sumtiem.  And then--if th doctor wonts U to go out in yur chair, and if U can allwaes do whut U wont to do, perhaps--perhaps we miet fiend sum boi hoo wuud puush U, and we cuud go aloen and it wuud allwaes be a seecret garden."

"I shuud--liek--that," he sed verry sloely, his ies luuking dreemy.  "I shuud liek that.  I shuud not miend fresh air in a seecret garden."

Mary began to recuver her breth and feel saefer becauz th iedeea of keeping th seecret seemd to pleez him.  She felt allmoest shur that if she kept on tauking and cuud maek him see th garden in his miend as she had seen it he wuud liek it so much that he cuud not bair to think that evrybody miet tramp in to it when thae choez. 

"I'l tel U whut I think it wuud be liek, if we cuud go into it," she sed.  "It has bin shut up so long things hav groen into a tanggl perhaps."

He lae qiet stil and lisend whiel she went on tauking about th roezes which miet hav clamberd frum tree to tree and hung doun--about th meny berds which miet hav bilt thair nests thair becauz it was so saef.  And then she toeld him about th robin and Ben Weatherstaff, and thair was so much to tel about th robin and it was so eezy and saef to tauk about it that she seest to be afraed.  Th robin pleezd him so much that he smield until he luukt allmoest buetyful, and at ferst Mary had thaut that he was eeven plainer than herself, with his big ies and hevy loks of hair. 

"I did not noe berds cuud be liek that," he sed.  "But if U stae in a room U never see things.  Whut a lot of things U noe.  I feel as if U had bin insied that garden."

She did not noe whut to sae, so she did not sae enything.  He evidently did not expect an anser and th next moement he gaev her a serpriez. 

"I am going to let U luuk at sumthing," he sed.  "Do U see that roez-culord silk curten hanging on th wall oever th mantel-pees?"

Mary had not noetist it befor, but she luukt up and saw it.  It was a curten of sofft silk hanging oever whut seemd to be sum pikcher. 

"Yes," she anserd. 

"Thair is a cord hanging frum it," sed Colin.  "Go and puul it."

Mary got up, much mistified, and found th cord.  When she puuld it th silk curten ran bak on rings and when it ran bak it uncuverd a pikcher.  It was th pikcher of a gerl with a lafing faes.  She had briet hair tied up with a bloo ribon and her gae, luvly ies wer exactly liek Colin's unhapy wuns, aget grae and luuking twies as big as thae reealy wer becauz of th blak lashes all round them. 

"She is mi muther," sed Colin complainingly.  "I don't see whi she died.  Sumtiems I haet her for doing it."

"How qeer!" sed Mary. 

"If she had livd I beleev I shuud not hav bin il allwaes," he grumbld.  "I dair sae I shuud hav livd, too.  And mi faather wuud not hav haeted to luuk at me.  I dair sae I shuud hav had a strong bak.  Draw th curten agen."

Mary did as she was toeld and reternd to her fuutstool. 

"She is much prityer than U," she sed, "but her ies ar just liek yurs--at leest thae ar th saem shaep and culor.  Whi is th curten drawn oever her?"

He moovd uncumfortably. 

"I maed them do it," he sed.  "Sumtiems I don't liek to see her luuking at me.  She smiels too much when I am il and mizerabl.  Besieds, she is mien and I don't wont evrywun to see her." Thair wer a fue moements of sielens and then Mary spoek. 

"Whut wuud Mrs. Medlock do if she found out that I had bin heer?" she inqierd. 

"She wuud do as I toeld her to do," he anserd.  "And I shuud tel her that I wonted U to cum heer and tauk to me evry dae.  I am glad U caem."

"So am I," sed Mary.  "I wil cum as offen as I can, but"--she hezitaeted--"I shal hav to luuk evry dae for th garden dor."

"Yes, U must," sed Colin, "and U can tel me about it afterward."

He lae thinking a fue minits, as he had dun befor, and then he spoek agen. 

"I think U shal be a seecret, too," he sed.  "I wil not tel them until thae fiend out.  I can allwaes send th ners out of th room and sae that I wont to be bi mieself.  Do U noe Martha?"

"Yes, I noe her verry wel," sed Mary.  "She waets on me."

He noded his hed tord th outer coridor. 

"She is th wun hoo is asleep in th uther room.  Th ners went awae yesterdae to stae all niet with her sister and she allwaes maeks Martha atend to me when she wonts to go out.  Martha shal tel U when to cum heer."

Then Mary understuud Martha's trubld luuk when she had askt qeschuns about th crieing. 

"Martha nue about U all th tiem?" she sed. 

"Yes; she offen atends to me.  Th ners lieks to get awae frum me and then Martha cums."

"I hav bin heer a long tiem," sed Mary.  "Shal I go awae now? Yur ies luuk sleepy."

"I wish I cuud go to sleep befor U leev me," he sed rather shiely. 

"Shut yur ies," sed Mary, drawing her fuutstool cloeser, "and I wil do whut mi Ayah uezd to do in India.  I wil pat yur hand and stroek it and sing sumthing qiet lo."

"I shuud liek that perhaps," he sed drouzily. 

Sumhow she was sorry for him and did not wont him to lie awaek, so she leend agenst th bed and began to stroek and pat his hand and sing a verry lo litl chanting song in Hindustani. 

"That is nies," he sed mor drouzily stil, and she went on chanting and stroeking, but when she luukt at him agen his blak lashes wer lieing cloes agenst his cheeks, for his ies wer shut and he was fast asleep.  So she got up sofftly, tuuk her candl and crept awae without maeking a sound. 





CHAPTER XIV

A YUNG RAJAH


 Th mur was hiden in mist when th morning caem, and th raen had not stopt poring doun.  Thair cuud be no going out of dors.  Martha was so bizy that Mary had no oportuenity of tauking to her, but in th afternoon she askt her to cum and sit with her in th nersery.  She caem bringing th stoking she was allwaes niting when she was doing nuthing els. 

"Whut's th mater with thee?" she askt as soon as thae sat doun.  "Tha' luuks as if tha'd somethin' to sae."

"I hav.  I hav found out whut th crieing was," sed Mary. 

Martha let her niting drop on her nee and gaezd at her with startld ies. 

"Tha' hasn't!" she exclaemd.  "Never!"

"I herd it in th niet," Mary went on.  "And I got up and went to see wherr it caem frum.  It was Colin.  I found him."

Martha's faes becaem red with friet. 

"Eh! Mis Mary!" she sed haf crieing.  "Tha' shuudn't hav dun it--tha' shuudn't! Tha'll get me in trubl.  I never toeld thee nothin' about him--but tha'll get me in trubl.  I shal looz mi plaes and what'll muther do!"

"U woen't looz yur plaes," sed Mary.  "He was glad I caem.  We taukt and taukt and he sed he was glad I caem."

"Was he?" cried Martha.  "Art tha' shur? Tha' duzn't noe whut he's liek when enything vexes him.  He's a big lad to cri liek a baeby, but when he's in a pashun he'l fair screem just to frieten us.  He noes us daren't call our soels our oen."

"He wasn't vext," sed Mary.  "I askt him if I shuud go awae and he maed me stae.  He askt me qeschuns and I sat on a big fuutstool and taukt to him about India and about th robin and gardens.  He wuudn't let me go.  He let me see his mother's pikcher.  Befor I left him I sang him to sleep."

Martha fairly gaspt with amaezment. 

"I can scairsly beleev thee!" she proetested.  "It's as if tha'd waukt straet into a lion's den.  If he'd bin liek he is moest tiems he'd hav throwed himself into wun of his tantrums and rouzd th' hous.  He woen't let straenjers luuk at him."

"He let me luuk at him.  I luukt at him all th tiem and he luukt at me.  We staird!" sed Mary. 

"I don't noe whut to do!" cried ajitaeted Martha.  "If Mrs. Medlock fiends out, she'l think I broek orders and toeld thee and I shal be pakt bak to muther."

"He is not going to tel Mrs. Medlock enything about it yet.  It's to be a sort of seecret just at ferst," sed Mary fermly.  "And he ses evrybody is obliejd to do as he pleezes."

"Ae, that's troo enuf--th' bad lad!" sied Martha, wieping her forhed with her aepron. 

"He ses Mrs. Medlock must.  And he wonts me to cum and tauk to him evry dae.  And U ar to tel me when he wonts me."

"Me!" sed Martha; "I shal looz mi plaes--I shal for shur!"

"U can't if U ar doing whut he wonts U to do and evrybody is orderd to oebae him," Mary argued. 

"Duz tha' meen to sae," cried Martha with wied oepen ies, "that he was nies to thee!"

"I think he allmoest liekt me," Mary anserd. 

"Then tha' must hav bewicht him!" desieded Martha, drawing a long breth. 

"Do U meen Majic?" inqierd Mary.  "I'v herd about Majic in India, but I can't maek it.  I just went into his room and I was so serpriezd to see him I stuud and staird.  And then he ternd round and staird at me.  And he thaut I was a goest or a dreem and I thaut perhaps he was.  And it was so qeer being thair aloen together in th midl of th niet and not noeing about eech uther.  And we began to ask eech uther qeschuns.  And when I askt him if I must go awae he sed I must not."

"Th' world's comin' to a end!" gaspt Martha. 

"Whut is th mater with him?" askt Mary. 

"Noebody noes for shur and serten," sed Martha.  "Mr. Craeven went off his hed liek when he was born.  Th' doctors thaut he'd hav to be puut in a 'sylum. It was becauz Mrs. Craeven died liek I toeld U.  He wuudn't set ies on th' baeby.  He just raved and sed it'd be anuther hunchbak liek him and it'd beter die."

"Is Colin a hunchbak?" Mary askt.  "He didn't luuk liek wun."

"He isn't yet," sed Martha.  "But he began all rong.  Muther sed that thair was enuf trubl and raejing in th' hous to set eny chield rong.  Thae was afraed his bak was weak an' thae'v allwaes bin takin' cair of it--keepin' him lyin' doun and not lettin' him wauk.  Wuns thae maed him wair a braes but he freted so he was dounriet il.  Then a big doctor caem to see him an' maed them taek it off.  He taukt to th' uther doctor qiet ruf--in a poliet wae.  He sed thair'd bin too much medisin and too much lettin' him hav his oen wae."

"I think he's a verry spoild boi," sed Mary. 

"He's th' werst yung nowt as ever was!" sed Martha.  "I woen't sae as he hasn't bin il a guud bit.  He's had coughs an' coelds that's neerly kild him too or three tiems.  Wuns he had roomatic feever an' wuns he had tiefoid.  Eh! Mrs. Medlock did get a friet then.  He'd bin out of his hed an' she was talkin' to th' ners, thinkin' he didn't noe nothin', an' she sed, `He'l die this tiem shur enuf, an' best thing for him an' for evrybody.' An' she luukt at him an' thair he was with his big ies oepen, starin' at her as sensibl as she was herself.  She didn't noe wha'd hapen but he just staird at her an' ses, `U giv me sum wauter an' stop talkin'.'"

"Do U think he wil die?" askt Mary. 

"Muther ses thair's no reezon whi eny chield shuud liv that gets no fresh air an' duzn't do nothin' but lie on his bak an' reed pikcher-buuks an' taek medisin.  He's weak and haets th' trubl o' bein' taeken out o' dors, an' he gets coeld so eezy he ses it maeks him il."

Mary sat and luukt at th fier.  "I wunder," she sed sloely, "if it wuud not do him guud to go out into a garden and woch things groeing.  It did me guud."

"Wun of th' werst fits he ever had," sed Martha, "was wun tiem thae tuuk him out wherr th roezes is bi th founten.  He'd bin readin' in a paeper about peepl gettin' somethin' he calld `roez cold' an' he began to sneez an' sed he'd got it an' then a nue gardner as didn't noe th' rools past bi an' luukt at him cuerius.  He throo himself into a pashun an' he sed he'd luukt at him becauz he was going to be a hunchbak.  He cried himself into a feever an' was il all niet."

"If he ever gets anggry at me, I'l never go and see him agen," sed Mary. 

"He'l hav thee if he wonts thee," sed Martha.  "Tha' mae as wel noe that at th' start."

Verry soon afterward a bel rang and she roeld up her niting. 

"I dair sae th' ners wonts me to stae with him a bit," she sed.  "I hoep he's in a guud temper."

She was out of th room about ten minits and then she caem bak with a puzld expreshun. 

"Wel, tha' has bewicht him," she sed.  "He's up on his soefa with his pikcher-buuks. He's toeld th ners to stae awae until six o'clok. I'm to waet in th next room.  Th' minit she was gon he calld me to him an' ses, `I wont Mary Lennox to cum and tauk to me, and remember U'r not to tel eny wun.' U'd beter go as qik as U can."

Mary was qiet wiling to go qikly.  She did not wont to see Colin as much as she wonted to see Dickon; but she wonted to see him verry much. 

Thair was a briet fier on th harth when she enterd his room, and in th daeliet she saw it was a verry buetyful room indeed.  Thair wer rich culors in th rugs and hangings and pikchers and buuks on th walls which maed it luuk gloeing and cumfortabl eeven in spiet of th grae skie and falling raen.  Colin luukt rather liek a pikcher himself.  He was rapt in a velvet dresing-goun and sat agenst a big broecaeded cuushun.  He had a red spot on eech cheek. 

"Cum in," he sed.  "I'v bin thinking about U all morning."

"I'v bin thinking about U, too," anserd Mary.  "U don't noe how frietend Martha is.  She ses Mrs. Medlock wil think she toeld me about U and then she wil be sent awae."

He fround. 

"Go and tel her to cum heer," he sed.  "She is in th next room."

Mary went and braut her bak.  Pur Martha was shaeking in her shoos.  Colin was stil frouning. 

"Hav U to do whut I pleez or hav U not?" he demanded. 

"I hav to do whut U pleez, ser," Martha fallterd, terning qiet red. 

"Has Medlock to do whut I pleez?"

"Evrybody has, ser," sed Martha. 

"Wel, then, if I order U to bring Mis Mary to me, how can Medlock send U awae if she fiends it out?"

"Pleez don't let her, ser," pleeded Martha. 

"I'l send her awae if she dairs to sae a werd about such a thing," sed Master Craeven grandly.  "She wuudn't liek that, I can tel U."

"Thank U, ser," bobing a curtsy, "I wont to do mi duety, ser."

"Whut I wont is yur duety" sed Colin mor grandly stil.  "I'l taek cair of U.  Now go awae."

When th dor cloezd behiend Martha, Colin found Mistres Mary gaezing at him as if he had set her wundering. 

"Whi do U luuk at me liek that?" he askt her.  "Whut ar U thinking about?"

"I am thinking about too things."

"Whut ar thae? Sit doun and tel me."

"This is th ferst wun," sed Mary, seeting herself on th big stool.  "Wuns in India I saw a boi hoo was a Rajah.  He had roobys and emeralds and diemonds stuk all oever him.  He spoek to his peepl just as U spoek to Martha.  Evrybody had to do evrything he toeld them--in a minit.  I think thae wuud hav bin kild if thae hadn't."

"I shal maek U tel me about Rajahs prezently," he sed, "but ferst tel me whut th second thing was."

"I was thinking," sed Mary, "how diferent U ar frum Dickon."

"Hoo is Dickon?" he sed.  "Whut a qeer naem!"

She miet as wel tel him, she thaut she cuud tauk about Dickon without menshuning th seecret garden.  She had liekt to heer Martha tauk about him.  Besieds, she longd to tauk about him.  It wuud seem to bring him neerer. 

"He is Martha's bruther.  He is twelv yeers oeld," she explaend.  "He is not liek eny wun els in th werld.  He can charm foxes and sqerels and berds just as th naetivs in India charm snaeks.  He plaes a verry sofft tuen on a piep and thae cum and lisen."

Thair wer sum big buuks on a taebl at his sied and he dragd wun sudenly tord him.  "Thair is a pikcher of a snaek-charmer in this," he exclaemd.  "Cum and luuk at it"

Th buuk was a buetyful wun with superb culord ilustraeshuns and he ternd to wun of them. 

"Can he do that?" he askt eegerly. 

"He plaed on his piep and thae lisend," Mary explaend.  "But he duzn't call it Majic.  He ses it's becauz he lievs on th mur so much and he noes thair waes.  He ses he feels sumtiems as if he was a berd or a rabit himself, he lieks them so.  I think he askt th robin qeschuns.  It seemd as if thae taukt to eech uther in sofft chirps."

Colin lae bak on his cuushun and his ies groo larjer and larjer and th spots on his cheeks bernd. 

"Tel me sum mor about him," he sed. 

"He noes all about egs and nests," Mary went on.  "And he noes wherr foxes and badgers and oters liv.  He keeps them seecret so that uther bois woen't fiend thair hoels and frieten them.  He noes about evrything that groes or lievs on th mur."

"Duz he liek th mur?" sed Colin.  "How can he when it's such a graet, bair, dreery plaes?"

"It's th moest buetyful plaes," proetested Mary.  "Thouzands of luvly things gro on it and thair ar thouzands of litl creechers all bizy bilding nests and maeking hoels and burroes and chippering or singing or sqeeking to eech uther.  Thae ar so bizy and having such fun under th erth or in th trees or hether.  It's thair werld."

"How do U noe all that?" sed Colin, terning on his elbo to luuk at her. 

"I hav never bin thair wuns, reealy," sed Mary sudenly remembering.  "I oenly droev oever it in th dark.  I thaut it was hidius.  Martha toeld me about it ferst and then Dickon.  When Dickon tauks about it U feel as if U saw things and herd them and as if U wer standing in th hether with th sun shiening and th gorse smeling liek huny--and all fuul of bees and buterflies."

"U never see enything if U ar il," sed Colin restlesly.  He luukt liek a person lisening to a nue sound in th distans and wundering whut it was. 

"U can't if U stae in a room, " sed Mary. 

"I cuudn't go on th mur" he sed in a rezentful toen. 

Mary was sielent for a minit and then she sed sumthing boeld. 

"U miet--sumtiem."

He moovd as if he wer startld. 

"Go on th mur! How cuud I? I am going to die." "How do U noe?" sed Mary unsympathetically.  She didn't liek th wae he had of tauking about dieing.  She did not feel verry simpathetic.  She felt rather as if he allmoest boested about it. 

"O, I'v herd it ever sinss I remember," he anserd crossly.  "Thae ar allwaes whispering about it and thinking I don't noetis.  Thae wish I wuud, too."

Mistres Mary felt qiet contrairy.  She pincht her lips together. 

"If thae wisht I wuud," she sed, "I wuudn't. Hoo wishes U wuud?"

"Th servants--and of cors Dr. Craeven becauz he wuud get Misselthwaite and be rich insted of pur.  He daren't sae so, but he allwaes luuks cheerful when I am wers.  When I had tiefoid feever his faes got qiet fat.  I think mi faather wishes it, too."

"I don't beleev he duz," sed Mary qiet obstinately. 

That maed Colin tern and luuk at her agen. 

"Don't U?" he sed. 

And then he lae bak on his cuushun and was stil, as if he wer thinking.  And thair was qiet a long sielens.  Perhaps thae wer boeth of them thinking straenj things children do not uezhualy think.  "I liek th grand doctor frum London, becauz he maed them taek th ieern thing off," sed Mary at last "Did he sae U wer going to die?"

"No.".

"Whut did he sae?"

"He didn't whisper," Colin anserd.  "Perhaps he nue I haeted whispering.  I herd him sae wun thing qiet aloud.  He sed, 'the lad miet liv if he wuud maek up his miend to it.  Puut him in th huemor.' It sounded as if he was in a temper."

"I'l tel U hoo wuud puut U in th huemor, perhaps," sed Mary reflecting.  She felt as if she wuud liek this thing to be setld wun wae or th uther.  "I beleev Dickon wuud.  He's allwaes tauking about liv things.  He never tauks about ded things or things that ar il.  He's allwaes luuking up in th skie to woch berds flieing--or luuking doun at th erth to see sumthing groeing.  He has such round bloo ies and thae ar so wied oepen with luuking about.  And he lafs such a big laf with his wied mouth--and his cheeks ar as red--as red as cherrys." She puuld her stool neerer to th soefa and her expreshun qiet chaenjd at th remembrans of th wied curving mouth and wied oepen ies. 

"See heer," she sed.  "Don't let us tauk about dieing; I don't liek it.  Let us tauk about living.  Let us tauk and tauk about Dickon.  And then we wil luuk at yur pikchers."

It was th best thing she cuud hav sed.  To tauk about Dickon ment to tauk about th mur and about th cotej and th forteen peepl hoo livd in it on sixteen shilings a week--and th children hoo got fat on th mur gras liek th wield poenys.  And about Dickon's muther--and th skiping-roep--and th mur with th sun on it--and about pael green points stiking up out of th blak sod.  And it was all so aliev that Mary taukt mor than she had ever taukt befor--and Colin boeth taukt and lisend as he had never dun eether befor.  And thae boeth began to laf oever nuthings as children wil when thae ar hapy together.  And thae laft so that in th end thae wer maeking as much noiz as if thae had bin too ordinairy helthy nacheral ten-yeer-oeld creechers--insted of a hard, litl, unloving gerl and a sikly boi hoo beleevd that he was going to die. 

Thae enjoid themselvs so much that thae forgot th pikchers and thae forgot about th tiem.  Thae had bin lafing qiet loudly oever Ben Weatherstaff and his robin, and Colin was akchualy siting up as if he had forgoten about his weak bak, when he sudenly rememberd sumthing.  "Do U noe thair is wun thing we hav never wuns thaut of," he sed.  "We ar cuzins."

It seemd so qeer that thae had taukt so much and never rememberd this simpl thing that thae laft mor than ever, becauz thae had got into th huemor to laf at enything.  And in th midst of th fun th dor oepend and in waukt Dr. Craeven and Mrs. Medlock. 

Dr. Craeven started in akchual alarm and Mrs. Medlock allmoest fel bak becauz he had acsidentaly bumpt agenst her. 

"Guud Lord!" exclaemd pur Mrs. Medlock with her ies allmoest starting out of her hed.  "Guud Lord!"

"Whut is this?" sed Dr. Craeven, cuming forward.  "Whut duz it meen?"

Then Mary was remiended of th boi Rajah agen.  Colin anserd as if neether th doctor's alarm nor Mrs. Medlock's terror wer of th slietest conseqens.  He was as litl disterbd or frietend as if an elderly cat and daug had waukt into th room. 

"This is mi cuzin, Mary Lennox," he sed.  "I askt her to cum and tauk to me.  I liek her.  She must cum and tauk to me whenever I send for her."

Dr. Craeven ternd reproachfully to Mrs. Medlock.  "O, ser" she panted.  "I don't noe how it's hapend.  Thair's not a servant on th plaes tha'd dair to tauk--thae all hav thair orders."

"Noebody toeld her enything," sed Colin.  "She herd me crieing and found me herself.  I am glad she caem.  Don't be sily, Medlock."

Mary saw that Dr. Craeven did not luuk pleezd, but it was qiet plaen that he dair not opoez his paeshent.  He sat doun bi Colin and felt his puls. 

"I am afraed thair has bin too much exsietment.  Exsietment is not guud for U, mi boi," he sed. 

"I shuud be exsieted if she kept awae," anserd Colin, his ies begining to luuk daenjerusly sparkling.  "I am beter.  She maeks me beter.  Th ners must bring up her tee with mien.  We wil hav tee together."

Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craeven luukt at eech uther in a trubld wae, but thair was evidently nuthing to be dun. 

"He duz luuk rather beter, ser," vencherd Mrs. Medlock.  "But"--thinking th mater oever--"he luukt beter this morning befor she caem into th room."

"She caem into he room last niet.  She staed with me a long tiem.  She sang a Hindustani song to me and it maed me go to sleep," sed Colin.  "I was beter when I waekend up.  I wonted mi brekfast.  I wont mi tee now.  Tel ners, Medlock."

Dr. Craeven did not stae verry long.  He taukt to th ners for a fue minits when she caem into th room and sed a fue werds of worning to Colin.  He must not tauk too much; he must not forget that he was il; he must not forget that he was verry eezily tierd.  Mary thaut that thair seemd to be a number of uncumfortabl things he was not to forget. 

Colin luukt fretful and kept his straenj blak-lasht ies fixt on Dr. Craven's faes. 

"I wont to forget it," he sed at last.  "She maeks me forget it.  That is whi I wont her."

Dr. Craeven did not luuk hapy when he left th room.  He gaev a puzld glans at th litl gerl siting on th larj stool.  She had becum a stif, sielent chield agen as soon as he enterd and he cuud not see whut th atracshun was.  Th boi akchualy did luuk brieter, however--and he sied rather hevily as he went doun th coridor. 

"Thae ar allwaes wonting me to eet things when I don't wont to," sed Colin, as th ners braut in th tee and puut it on th taebl bi th soefa.  "Now, if U'l eet I wil.  Thoes mufins luuk so nies and hot.  Tel me about Rajahs."





CHAPTER XV

NEST BILDING


 After anuther week of raen th hi arch of bloo skie apeerd agen and th sun which pord doun was qiet hot.  Tho thair had bin no chans to see eether th seecret garden or Dickon, Mistres Mary had enjoid herself verry much.  Th week had not seemd long.  She had spent ours of evry dae with Colin in his room, tauking about Rajahs or gardens or Dickon and th cotej on th mur.  Thae had luukt at th splendid buuks and pikchers and sumtiems Mary had reed things to Colin, and sumtiems he had reed a litl to her.  When he was amuezd and interested she thaut he scairsly luukt liek an invalid at all, exsept that his faes was so culorles and he was allwaes on th soefa. 

"U ar a sli yung wun to lisen and get out of yur bed to go foloeing things up liek U did that niet," Mrs. Medlock sed wuns.  "But thair's no saeing it's not bin a sort of blesing to th lot of us.  He's not had a tantrum or a whiening fit sinss U maed frends.  Th ners was just going to giv up th caes becauz she was so sik of him, but she ses she duzn't miend staeing now U'v gon on duety with her," lafing a litl. 

In her tauks with Colin, Mary had tried to be verry caushus about th seecret garden.  Thair wer serten things she wonted to fiend out frum him, but she felt that she must fiend them out without asking him direct qeschuns.  In th ferst plaes, as she began to liek to be with him, she wonted to discuver whether he was th kiend of boi U cuud tel a seecret to.  He was not in th leest liek Dickon, but he was evidently so pleezd with th iedeea of a garden no wun nue enything about that she thaut perhaps he cuud be trusted.  But she had not noen him long enuf to be shur.  Th second thing she wonted to fiend out was this: If he cuud be trusted--if he reealy cuud--wuudn't it be posibl to taek him to th garden without having eny wun fiend it out? Th grand doctor had sed that he must hav fresh air and Colin had sed that he wuud not miend fresh air in a seecret garden.  Perhaps if he had a graet deel of fresh air and nue Dickon and th robin and saw things groeing he miet not think so much about dieing.  Mary had seen herself in th glas sumtiems laetly when she had reealiezd that she luukt qiet a diferent creecher frum th chield she had seen when she arievd frum India.  This chield luukt nieser.  Eeven Martha had seen a chaenj in her. 

"Th' air frum th' mur has dun thee guud allredy," she had sed.  "Tha'rt not ni so yeler and tha'rt not ni so scrauny.  Eeven tha' hair duzn't slamp doun on tha' hed so flat.  It's got sum lief in it so as it stiks out a bit."

"It's liek me," sed Mary.  "It's groeing strongger and fater.  I'm shur thair's mor of it."

"It luuks it, for shur," sed Martha, ruffling it up a litl round her faes.  "Tha'rt not haf so ugly when it's that wae an' thair's a bit o' red in tha' cheeks."

If gardens and fresh air had bin guud for her perhaps thae wuud be guud for Colin.  But then, if he haeted peepl to luuk at him, perhaps he wuud not liek to see Dickon. 

"Whi duz it maek U anggry when U ar luukt at?" she inqierd wun dae. 

"I allwaes haeted it," he anserd, "eeven when I was verry litl.  Then when thae tuuk me to th seesied and I uezd to lie in mi carrej evrybody uezd to stair and laedys wuud stop and tauk to mi ners and then thae wuud begin to whisper and I nue then thae wer saeing I shuudn't liv to gro up.  Then sumtiems th laedys wuud pat mi cheeks and sae `Pur chield!' Wuns when a laedy did that I screemd out loud and bit her hand.  She was so frietend she ran awae."

"She thaut U had gon mad liek a daug," sed Mary, not at all admieringly. 

"I don't cair whut she thaut," sed Colin, frouning. 

"I wunder whi U didn't screem and biet me when I caem into yur room?" sed Mary.  Then she began to smiel sloely. 

"I thaut U wer a goest or a dreem," he sed.  "U can't biet a goest or a dreem, and if U screem thae don't cair."

"Wuud U haet it if--if a boi luukt at U?" Mary askt unsertanly. 

He lae bak on his cuushun and pauzd thautfuly. 

"Thair's wun boi," he sed qiet sloely, as if he wer thinking oever evry werd, "thair's wun boi I beleev I shuudn't miend.  It's that boi hoo noes wherr th foxes liv--Dickon."

"I'm shur U wuudn't miend him," sed Mary. 

"Th berds don't and uther animals," he sed, stil thinking it oever, "perhaps that's whi I shuudn't. He's a sort of animal charmer and I am a boi animal."

Then he laft and she laft too; in fact it ended in thair boeth lafing a graet deel and fiending th iedeea of a boi animal hieding in his hoel verry funy indeed. 

Whut Mary felt afterward was that she need not feer about Dickon. 

 On that ferst morning when th skie was bloo agen Mary waekend verry erly.  Th sun was poring in slanting raes thru th bliends and thair was sumthing so joius in th siet of it that she jumpt out of bed and ran to th windo.  She droo up th bliends and oepend th windo itself and a graet waft of fresh, sented air bloo in upon her.  Th mur was bloo and th hoel werld luukt as if sumthing Majic had hapend to it.  Thair wer tender litl flooting sounds heer and thair and evrywhair, as if scors of berds wer begining to tuen up for a consert.  Mary puut her hand out of th windo and held it in th sun. 

"It's worm--worm!" she sed.  "It wil maek th green points puush up and up and up, and it wil maek th bulbs and roots werk and strugl with all thair miet under th erth."

She neeld doun and leend out of th windo as far as she cuud, breething big breths and snifing th air until she laft becauz she rememberd whut Dickon's muther had sed about th end of his noez qivering liek a rabbit's. "It must be verry erly," she sed.  "Th litl clouds ar all pink and I'v never seen th skie luuk liek this.  No wun is up.  I don't eeven heer th staebl bois."

A suden thaut maed her scrambl to her feet. 

"I can't waet! I am going to see th garden!"

She had lernd to dres herself bi this tiem and she puut on her cloeths in fiev minits.  She nue a small sied dor which she cuud unbolt herself and she floo dounstairs in her stoking feet and puut on her shoos in th hall.  She unchained and unbolted and unlokt and when th dor was oepen she sprang across th step with wun bound, and thair she was standing on th gras, which seemd to hav ternd green, and with th sun poring doun on her and worm sweet wafts about her and th flooting and twitering and singing cuming frum evry buush and tree.  She claspt her hands for puer joi and luukt up in th skie and it was so bloo and pink and perly and whiet and fluded with springtiem liet that she felt as if she must floot and sing aloud herself and nue that thrushes and robins and skylarks cuud not posibly help it.  She ran around th shrubs and paths tords th seecret garden. 

"It is all diferent allredy," she sed.  "Th gras is greener and things ar stiking up evry- wherr and things ar uncurling and green buds of leevs ar shoeing.  This afternoon I am shur Dickon wil cum."

Th long worm raen had dun straenj things to th herbaeshus beds which borderd th wauk bi th loeer wall.  Thair wer things sprouting and puushing out frum th roots of clumps of plants and thair wer akchualy heer and thair glimpses of roial perpl and yelo unferling amung th stems of crocuses.  Six munths befor Mistres Mary wuud not hav seen how th werld was waeking up, but now she mist nuthing. 

When she had reecht th plaes wherr th dor hid itself under th ievy, she was startld bi a cuerius loud sound.  It was th caw--caw of a cro and it caem frum th top of th wall, and when she luukt up, thair sat a big glossy-plumaged bloo-blak berd, luuking doun at her verry wiezly indeed.  She had never seen a cro so cloes befor and he maed her a litl nervus, but th next moement he spred his wings and flapt awae across th garden.  She hoept he was not going to stae insied and she puusht th dor oepen wundering if he wuud.  When she got fairly into th garden she saw that he probably did intend to stae becauz he had alieted on a dworf apl-tree and under th apl-tree was lieing a litl redish animal with a Bushy tael, and boeth of them wer woching th stooping body and rust-red hed of Dickon, hoo was neeling on th gras werking hard. 

Mary floo across th gras to him. 

"O, Dickon! Dickon!" she cried out.  "How cuud U get heer so erly! How cuud U! Th sun has oenly just got up!"

He got up himself, lafing and gloeing, and touzld; his ies liek a bit of th skie. 

"Eh!" he sed.  "I was up long befor him.  How cuud I hav staed abed! Th' world's all fair begun agen this mornin', it has.  An' it's workin' an' hummin' an' scratchin' an' pipin' an' nest-buildin' an' breathin' out sents, til U'v got to be out on it 'stead o' lyin' on yur bak.  When th' sun did jump up, th' mur went mad for joi, an' I was in th midst of th' hether, an' I run liek mad mieself, shoutin' an' singin'. An' I cum straet heer.  I cuudn't hav staed awae.  Whi, th' garden was lyin' heer waitin'!"

Mary puut her hands on her chest, panting, as if she had bin runing herself. 

"O, Dickon! Dickon!" she sed.  "I'm so hapy I can scairsly breeth!"

Seeing him tauking to a straenjer, th litl bushy-tailed animal roez frum its plaes under th tree and caem to him, and th ruuk, cawing wuns, floo doun frum its branch and setld qieetly on his shoelder. 

"This is th' litl fox cub," he sed, rubing th litl redish animal's hed.  "It's naemd Capten.  An' this heer's Suut.  Suut he floo across th' mur with me an' Capten he run saem as if th' hounds had bin after him.  Thae boeth felt saem as I did."

Neether of th creechers luukt as if he wer th leest afraed of Mary.  When Dickon began to wauk about, Suut staed on his shoelder and Capten troted qieetly cloes to his sied. 

"See heer!" sed Dickon.  "See how thees has puusht up, an' thees an' thees! An' Eh! Luuk at thees heer!"

He throo himself upon his nees and Mary went doun besied him.  Thae had cum upon a hoel clump of crocuses berst into perpl and orenj and goeld.  Mary bent her faes doun and kist and kist them. 

"U never kis a person in that wae," she sed when she lifted her hed.  "Flowers ar so diferent."

He luukt puzld but smield. 

"Eh!" he sed, "I'v kist muther meny a tiem that wae when I cum in frum th' mur after a day's roamin' an' she stuud thair at th' dor in th' sun, lookin' so glad an' cumfortabl." Thae ran frum wun part of th garden to anuther and found so meny wunders that thae wer obliejd to remiend themselvs that thae must whisper or speek lo.  He shoed her sweling leafbuds on roez branches which had seemd ded.  He shoed her ten thouzand nue green points puushing thru th moeld.  Thae puut thair eeger yung noezes cloes to th erth and snift its wormd springtiem breething; thae dug and puuld and laft lo with rapcher until Mistres Mary's hair was as tumbld as Dickon's and her cheeks wer allmoest as popy red as his. 

Thair was evry joi on erth in th seecret garden that morning, and in th midst of them caem a deliet mor delietful than all, becauz it was mor wunderful.  Swiftly sumthing floo across th wall and darted thru th trees to a cloes groen corner, a litl flair of red-brested berd with sumthing hanging frum its beek.  Dickon stuud qiet stil and puut his hand on Mary allmoest as if thae had sudenly found themselvs lafing in a cherch. 

"We munnot ster," he whisperd in braud Yorkshire.  "We munnot scairs breeth.  I knowed he was maet-huntin' when I seed him last.  It's Ben Weatherstaff's robin.  He's buildin' his nest.  He'l stae heer if us don't fiet him." Thae setld doun sofftly upon th gras and sat thair without mooving. 

"Us mustn't seem as if us was watchin' him too cloes," sed Dickon.  "He'd be out with us for guud if he got th' noeshun us was interferin' now.  He'l be a guud bit diferent til all this is oever.  He's settin' up housekeepin'. He'l be shyer an' readier to taek things il.  He's got no tiem for visitin' an' gossipin'. Us must keep stil a bit an' tri to luuk as if us was gras an' trees an' buushes.  Then when he's got uezd to seein' us I'l churp a bit an' he'l noe us'll not be in his wae."

Mistres Mary was not at all shur that she nue, as Dickon seemd to, how to tri to luuk liek gras and trees and buushes.  But he had sed th qeer thing as if it wer th simplest and moest nacheral thing in th werld, and she felt it must be qiet eezy to him, and indeed she wocht him for a fue minits cairfuly, wundering if it was posibl for him to qieetly tern green and puut out branches and leevs.  But he oenly sat wunderfuly stil, and when he spoek dropt his vois to such a sofftnes that it was cuerius that she cuud heer him, but she cuud. 

"It's part o' th' springtiem, this nest-buildin' is," he sed.  "I warant it's bin goin' on in th' saem wae evry yeer sinss th' werld was begun.  Thae'v got thair wae o' thinkin' and doin' things an' a body had beter not medl.  U can looz a frend in springtiem eezyer than eny uther seezon if U'r too cuerius."

"If we tauk about him I can't help luuking at him," Mary sed as sofftly as posibl.  "We must tauk of sumthing els.  Thair is sumthing I wont to tel U."

"He'l liek it beter if us tauks o' somethin' els," sed Dickon.  "Whut is it tha's got to tel me?"

"Wel--do U noe about Colin?" she whisperd. 

He ternd his hed to luuk at her. 

"Whut duz tha' noe about him?" he askt. 

"I'v seen him.  I hav bin to tauk to him evry dae this week.  He wonts me to cum.  He ses I'm maeking him forget about being il and dieing," anserd Mary. 

Dickon luukt akchualy releevd as soon as th serpriez died awae frum his round faes. 

"I am glad o' that," he exclaemd.  "I'm riet doun glad.  It maeks me eezyer.  I knowed I must sae nothin' about him an' I don't liek havin' to hied things."

"Don't U liek hieding th garden?" sed Mary. 

"I'l never tel about it," he anserd.  "But I ses to muther, `Muther,' I ses, `I got a seecret to keep.  It's not a bad 'un, tha' noes that.  It's no wers than hidin' wherr a bird's nest is.  Tha' duzn't miend it, duz tha'?'"

Mary allwaes wonted to heer about muther. 

"Whut did she sae?" she askt, not at all afraed to heer. 

Dickon grind sweet-temperedly.

"It was just liek her, whut she sed," he anserd.  "She giv mi hed a bit of a rub an' laft an' she ses, 'eh, lad, tha' can hav all th' seecrets tha' lieks.  I'v knowed thee twelv year'.'"

"How did U noe about Colin?" askt Mary. 

"Evrybody as knowed about Mester Craeven knowed thair was a litl lad as was liek to be a cripl, an' thae knowed Mester Craeven didn't liek him to be taukt about.  Foeks is sorry for Mester Craeven becauz Mrs. Craeven was such a prity yung laedy an' thae was so fond of eech uther.  Mrs. Medlock stops in our cotej whenever she goes to Thwaite an' she duzn't miend talkin' to muther befor us children, becauz she noes us has bin braut up to be trusty.  How did tha' fiend out about him? Martha was in fien trubl th' last tiem she caem hoem.  She sed tha'd herd him frettin' an' tha' was askin' qeschuns an' she didn't noe whut to sae."

Mary toeld him her story about th midniet wuthering of th wind which had waekend her and about th faent far-off sounds of th complaening vois which had led her doun th dark coridors with her candl and had ended with her oepening of th dor of th dimly lieted room with th carven foer-poested bed in th corner.  When she descriebd th small ievory-whiet faes and th straenj blak-rimd ies Dickon shuuk his hed. 

"Them's just liek his mother's ies, oenly hers was allwaes laughin', thae sae," he sed.  "Thae sae as Mr. Craeven can't bair to see him when he's awaek an' it's becauz his ies is so liek his mother's an' yet luuks so diferent in his mizerabl bit of a faes."

"Do U think he wonts to die?" whisperd Mary. 

"No, but he wishes he'd never bin born.  Muther she ses that's th' werst thing on erth for a chield.  Them as is not wonted scairs ever thrievs.  Mester Craeven he'd bi anythin' as muny cuud bi for th' pur lad but he'd liek to forget as he's on erth.  For wun thing, he's afraed he'l luuk at him sum dae and fiend he's growed hunchbak."

"Colin's so afraed of it himself that he woen't sit up," sed Mary.  "He ses he's allwaes thinking that if he shuud feel a lump cuming he shuud go craezy and screem himself to deth."

"Eh! he oughtn't to lie thair thinkin' things liek that," sed Dickon.  "No lad cuud get wel as thaut them sort o' things."

Th fox was lieing on th gras cloes bi him, luuking up to ask for a pat now and then, and Dickon bent doun and rubd his nek sofftly and thaut a fue minits in sielens.  Prezently he lifted his hed and luukt round th garden. 

"When ferst we got in heer," he sed, "it seemd liek evrything was grae.  Luuk round now and tel me if tha' duzn't see a diferens."

Mary luukt and caut her breth a litl. 

"Whi!" she cried, "th grae wall is chaenjing.  It is as if a green mist wer creeping oever it.  It's allmoest liek a green gauz vael."

"Ae," sed Dickon.  "An' it'l be greener and greener til th' gray's all gon.  Can tha' ges whut I was thinkin'?"

"I noe it was sumthing nies," sed Mary eegerly.  "I beleev it was sumthing about Colin."

"I was thinkin' that if he was out heer he wuudn't be watchin' for lumps to gro on his bak; he'd be watchin' for buds to braek on th' roez-buushes, an' he'd liekly be helthyer," explaend Dickon.  "I was wonderin' if us cuud ever get him in th' huemor to cum out heer an' lie under th' trees in his carrej."

"I'v bin wundering that mieself.  I'v thaut of it allmoest evry tiem I'v taukt to him," sed Mary.  "I'v wunderd if he cuud keep a seecret and I'v wunderd if we cuud bring him heer without eny wun seeing us.  I thaut perhaps U cuud puush his carrej.  Th doctor sed he must hav fresh air and if he wonts us to taek him out no wun dair disoebae him.  He woen't go out for uther peepl and perhaps thae wil be glad if he wil go out with us.  He cuud order th gardners to keep awae so thae wuudn't fiend out."

Dickon was thinking verry hard as he scracht Captain's bak. 

"It'd be guud for him, I'l warant," he sed.  "Us'd not be thinkin' he'd beter never bin born.  Us'd be just too children watchin' a garden gro, an' he'd be anuther.  Too lads an' a litl las just lookin' on at th' springtiem.  I warant it'd be beter than doctor's stuf."

"He's bin lieing in his room so long and he's allwaes bin so afraed of his bak that it has maed him qeer," sed Mary.  "He noes a guud meny things out of buuks but he duzn't noe enything els.  He ses he has bin too il to noetis things and he haets going out of dors and haets gardens and gardners.  But he lieks to heer about this garden becauz it is a seecret.  I daren't tel him much but he sed he wonted to see it."

"Us'll hav him out heer sumtiem for shur," sed Dickon.  "I cuud puush his carrej wel enuf.  Has tha' noetist how th' robin an' his maet has bin workin' whiel we'v bin sittin' heer? Luuk at him percht on that branch wonderin' wherr it'd be best to puut that twig he's got in his beek."

He maed wun of his lo whisling calls and th robin ternd his hed and luukt at him inqieringly, stil hoelding his twig.  Dickon spoek to him as Ben Weatherstaff did, but Dickon's toen was wun of frendly advies. 

"Wheres'ever tha' puuts it," he sed, "it'l be all riet.  Tha' nue how to bild tha' nest befor tha' caem out o' th' eg.  Get on with thee, lad.  Tha'st got no tiem to looz."

"O, I do liek to heer U tauk to him!" Mary sed, lafing delightedly.  "Ben Weatherstaff scoelds him and maeks fun of him, and he hops about and luuks as if he understuud evry werd, and I noe he lieks it.  Ben Weatherstaff ses he is so conseeted he wuud rather hav stoens throen at him than not be noetist."

Dickon laft too and went on tauking. 

"Tha' noes us woen't trubl thee," he sed to th robin.  "Us is neer bein' wield things ourselvs.  Us is nest-buildin' too, bles thee.  Luuk out tha' duzn't tel on us."

And tho th robin did not anser, becauz his beek was ocuepied, Mary nue that when he floo awae with his twig to his oen corner of th garden th darknes of his due-briet ie ment that he wuud not tel thair seecret for th werld. 





CHAPTER XVI

"I WOEN'T!" SED MARY


 Thae found a graet deel to do that morning and Mary was laet in reterning to th hous and was allso in such a hery to get bak to her werk that she qiet forgot Colin until th last moement. 

"Tel Colin that I can't cum and see him yet," she sed to Martha.  "I'm verry bizy in th garden."

Martha luukt rather frietend. 

"Eh! Mis Mary," she sed, "it mae puut him all out of huemor when I tel him that."

But Mary was not as afraed of him as uther peepl wer and she was not a self-sacrificing person. 

"I can't stae," she anserd.  "Dickon's waeting for me;" and she ran awae. 

Th afternoon was eeven lovelier and bizyer than th morning had bin.  Allredy neerly all th weeds wer cleerd out of th garden and moest of th roezes and trees had bin proond or dug about.  Dickon had braut a spaed of his oen and he had taut Mary to uez all her tools, so that bi this tiem it was plaen that tho th luvly wield plaes was not liekly to becum a "gardener's garden" it wuud be a wildernes of groeing things befor th springtiem was oever. 

"Thair'l be apl blosoms an' cherry blosoms oeverhed," Dickon sed, werking awae with all his miet.  "An' thair'l be peech an' plum trees in bloom agenst th' walls, an' th' grass'll be a carpet o' flowers."

Th litl fox and th ruuk wer as hapy and bizy as thae wer, and th robin and his maet floo bakward and forward liek tieny streeks of lietning.  Sumtiems th ruuk flapt his blak wings and sord awae oever th tree-tops in th park.  Eech tiem he caem bak and percht neer Dickon and cawed several tiems as if he wer relaeting his advenchers, and Dickon taukt to him just as he had taukt to th robin.  Wuns when Dickon was so bizy that he did not anser him at ferst, Suut floo on to his shoelders and jently tweaked his eer with his larj beek.  When Mary wonted to rest a litl Dickon sat doun with her under a tree and wuns he tuuk his piep out of his poket and plaed th sofft straenj litl noets and too sqerels apeerd on th wall and luukt and lisend. 

"Tha's a guud bit strongger than tha' was," Dickon sed, luuking at her as she was diging.  "Tha's begining to luuk diferent, for shur."

Mary was gloeing with exersiez and guud spirits. 

"I'm geting fater and fater evry dae," she sed qiet exultantly.  "Mrs. Medlock wil hav to get me sum biger dreses.  Martha ses mi hair is groeing thiker.  It isn't so flat and stringy."

Th sun was begining to set and sending deep goeld-culord raes slanting under th trees when thae parted. 

"It'l be fien tomorro," sed Dickon.  "I'l be at werk bi sunriez."

"So wil I," sed Mary. 

 She ran bak to th hous as qikly as her feet wuud carry her.  She wonted to tel Colin about Dickon's fox cub and th ruuk and about whut th springtiem had bin doing.  She felt shur he wuud liek to heer.  So it was not verry plezant when she oepend th dor of her room, to see Martha standing waeting for her with a doelful faes. 

"Whut is th mater?" she askt.  "Whut did Colin sae when U toeld him I cuudn't cum?"

"Eh!" sed Martha, "I wish tha'd gon.  He was ni goin' into wun o' his tantrums.  Thair's bin a nies to do all afternoon to keep him qieet.  He wuud woch th clok all th' tiem."

Mary's lips pincht themselvs together.  She was no mor uezd to considering uther peepl than Colin was and she saw no reezon whi an il-temperd boi shuud interfeer with th thing she liekt best.  She nue nuthing about th pitifulness of peepl hoo had bin il and nervus and hoo did not noe that thae cuud controel thair tempers and need not maek uther peepl il and nervus, too.  When she had had a hedaek in India she had dun her best to see that evrybody els allso had a hedaek or sumthing qiet as bad.  And she felt she was qiet riet; but of cors now she felt that Colin was qiet rong. 

He was not on his soefa when she went into his room.  He was lieing flat on his bak in bed and he did not tern his hed tord her as she caem in.  This was a bad begining and Mary marcht up to him with her stif maner. 

"Whi didn't U get up?" she sed. 

"I did get up this morning when I thaut U wer cuming," he anserd, without luuking at her.  "I maed them puut me bak in bed this afternoon.  Mi bak aekt and mi hed aekt and I was tierd.  Whi didn't U cum?" "I was werking in th garden with Dickon," sed Mary. 

Colin fround and condescended to luuk at her. 

"I woen't let that boi cum heer if U go and stae with him insted of cuming to tauk to me," he sed. 

Mary floo into a fien pashun.  She cuud fli into a pashun without maeking a noiz.  She just groo sour and obstinet and did not cair whut hapend. 

"If U send Dickon awae, I'l never cum into this room agen!" she retorted. 

"U'l hav to if I wont U," sed Colin. 

"I woen't!" sed Mary. 

"I'l maek U," sed Colin.  "Thae shal drag U in."

"Shal thae, Mr. Rajah!" sed Mary feersly.  "Thae mae drag me in but thae can't maek me tauk when thae get me heer.  I'l sit and clench mi teeth and never tel U wun thing.  I woen't eeven luuk at U.  I'l stair at th flor!"

Thae wer a nies agreeabl pair as thae glaird at eech uther.  If thae had bin too litl street bois thae wuud hav sprung at eech uther and had a ruf-and-tumbl fiet.  As it was, thae did th next thing to it. 

"U ar a selfish thing!" cried Colin. 

"Whut ar U?" sed Mary.  "Selfish peepl allwaes sae that.  Eny wun is selfish hoo duzn't do whut thae wont.  U'r mor selfish than I am.  U'r th moest selfish boi I ever saw."

"I'm not!" snapt Colin.  "I'm not as selfish as yur fien Dickon is! He keeps U plaeing in th dert when he noes I am all bi mieself.  He's selfish, if U liek!"

Mary's ies flasht fier. 

"He's nieser than eny uther boi that ever livd!" she sed.  "He's--he's liek an aenjel!" It miet sound rather sily to sae that but she did not cair. 

"A nies aenjel!" Colin sneerd feroeshusly.  "He's a comon cotej boi off th mur!"

"He's beter than a comon Rajah!" retorted Mary.  "He's a thouzand tiems beter!"

Becauz she was th strongger of th too she was begining to get th beter of him.  Th trooth was that he had never had a fiet with eny wun liek himself in his lief and, upon th hoel, it was rather guud for him, tho neether he nor Mary nue enything about that.  He ternd his hed on his pilo and shut his ies and a big teer was sqeezd out and ran doun his cheek.  He was begining to feel pathetic and sorry for himself--not for eny wun els. 

"I'm not as selfish as U, becauz I'm allwaes il, and I'm shur thair is a lump cuming on mi bak," he sed.  "And I am going to die besieds."

"U'r not!" contradicted Mary unsympathetically. 

He oepend his ies qiet wied with indignaeshun.  He had never herd such a thing sed befor.  He was at wuns fuerius and slietly pleezd, if a person cuud be boeth at wun tiem. 

"I'm not?" he cried.  "I am! U noe I am! Evrybody ses so."

"I don't beleev it!" sed Mary sourly.  "U just sae that to maek peepl sorry.  I beleev U'r proud of it.  I don't beleev it! If U wer a nies boi it miet be troo--but U'r too nasty!"

In spiet of his invalid bak Colin sat up in bed in qiet a helthy raej. 

"Get out of th room!" he shouted and he caut hoeld of his pilo and throo it at her.  He was not strong enuf to thro it far and it oenly fel at her feet, but Mary's faes luukt as pincht as a nutcraker. 

"I'm going," she sed.  "And I woen't cum bak!" She waukt to th dor and when she reecht it she ternd round and spoek agen. 

"I was going to tel U all sorts of nies things," she sed.  "Dickon braut his fox and his ruuk and I was going to tel U all about them.  Now I woen't tel U a singgl thing!"

She marcht out of th dor and cloezd it behiend her, and thair to her graet astonishment she found th traend ners standing as if she had bin lisening and, mor amaezing stil--she was lafing.  She was a big hansum yung wuuman hoo aut not to hav bin a traend ners at all, as she cuud not bair invalids and she was allwaes maeking excuezes to leev Colin to Martha or eny wun els hoo wuud taek her plaes.  Mary had never liekt her, and she simply stuud and gaezd up at her as she stuud gigling into her hankerchif..

"Whut ar U lafing at?" she askt her. 

"At U too yung wuns," sed th ners.  "It's th best thing that cuud hapen to th sikly pamperd thing to hav sum wun to stand up to him that's as spoild as himself;" and she laft into her hankerchif agen.  "If he'd had a yung vixen of a sister to fiet with it wuud hav bin th saeving of him."

"Is he going to die?"

"I don't noe and I don't cair," sed th ners.  "Histerrics and temper ar haf whut ails him."

"Whut ar histerrics?" askt Mary. 

"U'l fiend out if U werk him into a tantrum after this--but at eny raet U'v given him sumthing to hav histerrics about, and I'm glad of it."

Mary went bak to her room not feeling at all as she had felt when she had cum in frum th garden.  She was cross and disapointed but not at all sorry for Colin.  She had luukt forward to teling him a graet meny things and she had ment to tri to maek up her miend whether it wuud be saef to trust him with th graet seecret.  She had bin begining to think it wuud be, but now she had chaenjd her miend entierly.  She wuud never tel him and he cuud stae in his room and never get eny fresh air and die if he liekt! It wuud serv him riet! She felt so sour and unrelenting that for a fue minits she allmoest forgot about Dickon and th green vael creeping oever th werld and th sofft wind bloeing doun frum th mur. 

Martha was waeting for her and th trubl in her faes had bin temporairily replaest bi interest and cueriosity.  Thair was a wuuden box on th taebl and its cuver had bin remoovd and reveeld that it was fuul of neet pakejes. 

"Mr. Craeven sent it to U," sed Martha.  "It luuks as if it had pikcher-buuks in it."

Mary rememberd whut he had askt her th dae she had gon to his room.  "Do U wont enything--dols--tois --buuks?" She oepend th pakej wundering if he had sent a dol, and allso wundering whut she shuud do with it if he had.  But he had not sent wun.  Thair wer several buetyful buuks such as Colin had, and too of them wer about gardens and wer fuul of pikchers.  Thair wer too or three gaems and thair was a buetyful litl rieting-caes with a goeld monogram on it and a goeld pen and inkstand. 

Evrything was so nies that her plezher began to croud her angger out of her miend.  She had not expected him to remember her at all and her hard litl hart groo qiet worm. 

"I can riet beter than I can print," she sed, "and th ferst thing I shal riet with that pen wil be a leter to tel him I am much obliejd."

If she had bin frends with Colin she wuud hav run to sho him her prezents at wuns, and thae wuud hav luukt at th pikchers and reed sum of th gardning buuks and perhaps tried plaeing th gaems, and he wuud hav enjoid himself so much he wuud never wuns hav thaut he was going to die or hav puut his hand on his spien to see if thair was a lump cuming.  He had a wae of doing that which she cuud not bair.  It gaev her an uncumfortabl frietend feeling becauz he allwaes luukt so frietend himself.  He sed that if he felt eeven qiet a litl lump sum dae he shuud noe his hunch had begun to gro.  Sumthing he had herd Mrs. Medlock whispering to th ners had given him th iedeea and he had thaut oever it in seecret until it was qiet fermly fixt in his miend.  Mrs. Medlock had sed his father's bak had begun to sho its cruukednes in that wae when he was a chield.  He had never toeld eny wun but Mary that moest of his "tantrums" as thae calld them groo out of his histerrical hiden feer.  Mary had bin sorry for him when he had toeld her. 

"He allwaes began to think about it when he was cross or tierd," she sed to herself.  "And he has bin cross todae.  Perhaps--perhaps he has bin thinking about it all afternoon."

She stuud stil, luuking doun at th carpet and thinking. 

"I sed I wuud never go bak agen--" she hezitaeted, niting her brous--"but perhaps, just perhaps, I wil go and see--if he wonts me--in th morning.  Perhaps he'l tri to thro his pilo at me agen, but--I think--I'l go."





CHAPTER XVII

A TANTRUM


 She had got up verry erly in th morning and had werkt hard in th garden and she was tierd and sleepy, so as soon as Martha had braut her super and she had eeten it, she was glad to go to bed.  As she laed her hed on th pilo she mermerd to herself:

"I'l go out befor brekfast and werk with Dickon and then afterward--I beleev--I'l go to see him."

She thaut it was th midl of th niet when she was awaekend bi such dredful sounds that she jumpt out of bed in an instant.  Whut was it--whut was it? Th next minit she felt qiet shur she nue.  Dors wer oepend and shut and thair wer herying feet in th coridors and sum wun was crieing and screeming at th saem tiem, screeming and crieing in a horribl wae. 

"It's Colin," she sed.  "He's having wun of thoes tantrums th ners calld histerrics.  How auful it sounds."

As she lisend to th sobing screems she did not wunder that peepl wer so frietend that thae gaev him his oen wae in evrything rather than heer them.  She puut her hands oever her eers and felt sik and shivering. 

"I don't noe whut to do.  I don't noe whut to do," she kept saeing.  "I can't bair it."

Wuns she wunderd if he wuud stop if she daird go to him and then she rememberd how he had driven her out of th room and thaut that perhaps th siet of her miet maek him wers.  Eeven when she prest her hands mor tietly oever her eers she cuud not keep th auful sounds out.  She haeted them so and was so terrified bi them that sudenly thae began to maek her anggry and she felt as if she shuud liek to fli into a tantrum herself and frieten him as he was frietening her.  She was not uezd to eny one's tempers but her oen.  She tuuk her hands frum her eers and sprang up and stampt her fuut. 

"He aut to be stopt! Sumbody aut to maek him stop! Sumbody aut to beet him!" she cried out. 

Just then she herd feet allmoest runing doun th coridor and her dor oepend and th ners caem in.  She was not lafing now bi eny meens.  She eeven luukt rather pael. 

"He's werkt himself into histerrics," she sed in a graet hery.  "He'l do himself harm.  No wun can do enything with him.  U cum and tri, liek a guud chield.  He lieks U."

"He ternd me out of th room this morning," sed Mary, stamping her fuut with exsietment. 

Th stamp rather pleezd th ners.  Th trooth was that she had bin afraed she miet fiend Mary crieing and hieding her hed under th bed-cloeths.

"That's riet," she sed.  "U'r in th riet huemor.  U go and scoeld him.  Giv him sumthing nue to think of.  Do go, chield, as qik as ever U can."

It was not until afterward that Mary reealiezd that th thing had bin funy as wel as dredful--that it was funy that all th groen-up peepl wer so frietend that thae caem to a litl gerl just becauz thae gest she was allmoest as bad as Colin himself. 

She floo along th coridor and th neerer she got to th screems th hieer her temper mounted.  She felt qiet wiked bi th tiem she reecht th dor.  She slapt it oepen with her hand and ran across th room to th foer-poested bed. 

"U stop!" she allmoest shouted.  "U stop! I haet U! Evrybody haets U! I wish evrybody wuud run out of th hous and let U screem yurself to deth! U wil screem yurself to deth in a minit, and I wish U wuud!" A nies simpathetic chield cuud neether hav thaut nor sed such things, but it just hapend that th shok of heering them was th best posibl thing for this histerrical boi hoom no wun had ever daird to restraen or contradict. 

He had bin lieing on his faes beeting his pilo with his hands and he akchualy allmoest jumpt around, he ternd so qikly at th sound of th fuerius litl vois.  His faes luukt dredful, whiet and red and swoelen, and he was gasping and choeking; but savej litl Mary did not cair an atom. 

"If U screem anuther screem," she sed, "I'l screem too --and I can screem louder than U can and I'l frieten U, I'l frieten U!"

He akchualy had stopt screeming becauz she had startld him so.  Th screem which had bin cuming allmoest choekt him.  Th teers wer streeming doun his faes and he shuuk all oever. 

"I can't stop!" he gaspt and sobd.  "I can't--I can't!"

"U can!" shouted Mary.  "Haf that ails U is histerrics and temper--just histerrics--histerrics--histerrics!" and she stampt eech tiem she sed it. 

"I felt th lump--I felt it," choekt out Colin.  "I nue I shuud.  I shal hav a hunch on mi bak and then I shal die," and he began to rieth agen and ternd on his faes and sobd and waeld but he didn't screem. 

"U didn't feel a lump!" contradicted Mary feersly.  "If U did it was oenly a histerrical lump.  Histerrics maeks lumps.  Thair's nuthing th mater with yur horrid bak--nuthing but histerrics! Tern oever and let me luuk at it!"

She liekt th werd "histerrics" and felt sumhow as if it had an efect on him.  He was probably liek herself and had never herd it befor. 

"Ners," she comanded, "cum heer and sho me his bak this minit!"

Th ners, Mrs. Medlock and Martha had bin standing hudld together neer th dor stairing at her, thair mouths haf oepen.  All three had gaspt with friet mor than wuns.  Th ners caem forward as if she wer haf afraed.  Colin was heeving with graet brethles sobs. 

"Perhaps he--he woen't let me," she hezitaeted in a lo vois. 

Colin herd her, however, and he gaspt out between too sobs:

"Sh-sho her! She-she'l see then!"

It was a pur thin bak to luuk at when it was bared.  Evry rib cuud be counted and evry joint of th spien, tho Mistres Mary did not count them as she bent oever and examind them with a solem savej litl faes.  She luukt so sour and oeld-fashund that th ners ternd her hed asied to hied th twiching of her mouth.  Thair was just a minute's sielens, for eeven Colin tried to hoeld his breth whiel Mary luukt up and doun his spien, and doun and up, as intently as if she had bin th graet doctor frum London. 

"Thair's not a singgl lump thair!" she sed at last.  "Thair's not a lump as big as a pin--exsept bakboen lumps, and U can oenly feel them becauz U'r thin.  I'v got bakboen lumps mieself, and thae uezd to stik out as much as yurs do, until I began to get fater, and I am not fat enuf yet to hied them.  Thair's not a lump as big as a pin! If U ever sae thair is agen, I shal laf!"

No wun but Colin himself nue whut efect thoes crossly spoeken chieldish werds had on him.  If he had ever had eny wun to tauk to about his seecret terrors--if he had ever daird to let himself ask qeschuns--if he had had chieldish companyons and had not laen on his bak in th huej cloezd hous, breething an atmosfeer hevy with th feers of peepl hoo wer moest of them ignorant and tierd of him, he wuud hav found out that moest of his friet and ilnes was creaeted bi himself.  But he had laen and thaut of himself and his aeks and weerynes for ours and daes and munths and yeers.  And now that an anggry unsimpathetic litl gerl insisted obstinately that he was not as il as he thaut he was he akchualy felt as if she miet be speeking th trooth. 

"I didn't noe," vencherd th ners, "that he thaut he had a lump on his spien.  His bak is weak becauz he woen't tri to sit up.  I cuud hav toeld him thair was no lump thair." Colin gulped and ternd his faes a litl to luuk at her. 

"C-cuud U?" he sed patheticaly. 

"Yes, ser."

"Thair!" sed Mary, and she gulped too. 

Colin ternd on his faes agen and but for his long-drawn broeken breths, which wer th dieing doun of his storm of sobing, he lae stil for a minit, tho graet teers srteamed doun his faes and wet th pilo.  Akchualy th teers ment that a cuerius graet releef had cum to him.  Prezently he ternd and luukt at th ners agen and straenjly enuf he was not liek a Rajah at all as he spoek to her. 

"Do U think--I cuud--liv to gro up?" he sed. 

Th ners was neether clever nor sofft-hearted but she cuud repeet sum of th London doctor's werds. 

"U probably wil if U wil do whut U ar toeld to do and not giv wae to yur temper, and stae out a graet deel in th fresh air."

Colin's tantrum had past and he was weak and worn out with crieing and this perhaps maed him feel jentl.  He puut out his hand a litl tord Mary, and I am glad to sae that, her oen tantum having past, she was soffend too and met him haf-wae with her hand, so that it was a sort of maeking up. 

"I'l--I'l go out with U, Mary," he sed.  "I shan't haet fresh air if we can fiend--" He rememberd just in tiem to stop himself frum saeing "if we can fiend th seecret garden" and he ended, "I shal liek to go out with U if Dickon wil cum and puush mi chair.  I do so wont to see Dickon and th fox and th cro."

Th ners remade th tumbld bed and shuuk and straetend th piloes.  Then she maed Colin a cup of beef tee and gaev a cup to Mary, hoo reealy was verry glad to get it after her exsietment.  Mrs. Medlock and Martha gladly slipt awae, and after evrything was neet and caam and in order th ners luukt as if she wuud verry gladly slip awae allso.  She was a helthy yung wuuman hoo rezented being robd of her sleep and she yawned qiet oepenly as she luukt at Mary, hoo had puusht her big fuutstool cloes to th foer-poested bed and was hoelding Colin's hand. 

"U must go bak and get yur sleep out," she sed.  "He'l drop off after a whiel--if he's not too upset.  Then I'l lie doun mieself in th next room."

"Wuud U liek me to sing U that song I lernd frum mi Ayah?" Mary whisperd to Colin. 

His hand puuld hers jently and he ternd his tierd ies on her apeelingly. 

"O, yes!" he anserd.  "It's such a sofft song.  I shal go to sleep in a minit."

"I wil puut him to sleep," Mary sed to th yauning ners.  "U can go if U liek."

"Wel," sed th ners, with an atempt at reluctans.  "If he duzn't go to sleep in haf an our U must call me."

"Verry wel," anserd Mary. 

Th ners was out of th room in a minit and as soon as she was gon Colin puuld Mary's hand agen. 

"I allmoest toeld," he sed; "but I stopt mieself in tiem.  I woen't tauk and I'l go to sleep, but U sed U had a hoel lot of nies things to tel me.  Hav U--do U think U hav found out enything at all about th wae into th seecret garden?"

Mary luukt at his pur litl tierd faes and swoelen ies and her hart relented. 

"Ye-es," she anserd, "I think I hav.  And if U wil go to sleep I wil tel U tomorro." His hand qiet trembld. 

"O, Mary!" he sed.  "O, Mary! If I cuud get into it I think I shuud liv to gro up! Do U supoez that insted of singing th Ayah song--U cuud just tel me sofftly as U did that ferst dae whut U imajin it luuks liek insied? I am shur it wil maek me go to sleep."

"Yes," anserd Mary.  "Shut yur ies."

He cloezd his ies and lae qiet stil and she held his hand and began to speek verry sloely and in a verry lo vois. 

"I think it has bin left aloen so long--that it has groen all into a luvly tanggl.  I think th roezes hav cliemd and cliemd and cliemd until thae hang frum th branches and walls and creep oever th ground--allmoest liek a straenj grae mist.  Sum of them hav died but meny--ar aliev and when th sumer cums thair wil be curtens and fountens of roezes.  I think th ground is fuul of dafodils and snoedrops and lilys and ieris werking thair wae out of th dark.  Now th spring has begun--perhaps--perhaps--"

Th sofft droen of her vois was maeking him stiller and stiller and she saw it and went on. 

"Perhaps thae ar cuming up thru th gras--perhaps thair ar clusters of perpl crocuses and goeld wuns--eeven now.  Perhaps th leevs ar begining to braek out and uncurl--and perhaps--th grae is chaenjing and a green gauz vael is creeping--and creeping oever--evrything. And th berds ar cuming to luuk at it--becauz it is--so saef and stil.  And perhaps--perhaps--perhaps--" verry sofftly and sloely indeed, "th robin has found a maet--and is bilding a nest."

And Colin was asleep. 





CHAPTER XVIII

"THA' MUNNOT WAEST NO TIEM"


 Of cors Mary did not waken erly th next morning.  She slept laet becauz she was tierd, and when Martha braut her brekfast she toeld her that tho.  Colin was qiet qieet he was il and feeverish as he allwaes was after he had worn himself out with a fit of crieing.  Mary aet her brekfast sloely as she lisend. 

"He ses he wishes tha' wuud pleez go and see him as soon as tha' can," Martha sed.  "It's qeer whut a fansy he's tuuk to thee.  Tha' did giv it him last niet for shur--didn't tha? Noebody els wuud hav daird to do it.  Eh! pur lad! He's bin spoild til sallt woen't saev him.  Muther ses as th' too werst things as can hapen to a chield is never to hav his oen wae--or allwaes to hav it.  She duzn't noe which is th' werst.  Tha' was in a fien temper tha'self, too.  But he ses to me when I went into his room, `Pleez ask Mis Mary if she'l pleez cum an, tauk to me?' Think o' him saeing pleez! Wil U go, Mis?" "I'l run and see Dickon ferst," sed Mary.  "No, I'l go and see Colin ferst and tel him--I noe whut I'l tel him," with a suden inspiraeshun. 

She had her hat on when she apeerd in Colin's room and for a second he luukt disapointed.  He was in bed.  His faes was pityfuly whiet and thair wer dark sercls round his ies. 

"I'm glad U caem," he sed.  "Mi hed aeks and I aek all oever becauz I'm so tierd.  Ar U going sumwherr?"

Mary went and leend agenst his bed. 

"I woen't be long," she sed.  "I'm going to Dickon, but I'l cum bak.  Colin, it's--it's sumthing about th garden."

His hoel faes brietend and a litl culor caem into it. 

"O! is it?" he cried out.  "I dreemd about it all niet I herd U sae sumthing about grae chaenjing into green, and I dreemd I was standing in a plaes all fild with trembling litl green leevs--and thair wer berds on nests evrywhair and thae luukt so sofft and stil.  I'l lie and think about it until U cum bak."

 In fiev minits Mary was with Dickon in thair garden.  Th fox and th cro wer with him agen and this tiem he had braut too taem sqerels.  "I caem oever on th poeny this mornin', " he sed.  "Eh! he is a guud litl chap--Jump is! I braut thees too in mi pokets.  This heer wun he's calld Nut an' this heer uther one's calld Shel."

When he sed "Nut" wun sqerel leept on to his riet shoelder and when he sed "Shel" th uther wun leept on to his left shoelder. 

When thae sat doun on th gras with Capten curld at thair feet, Suut solemly lisening on a tree and Nut and Shel noezing about cloes to them, it seemd to Mary that it wuud be scairsly bairabl to leev such delightfulness, but when she began to tel her story sumhow th luuk in Dickon's funy faes grajualy chaenjd her miend.  She cuud see he felt sorrier for Colin than she did.  He luukt up at th skie and all about him. 

"Just lisen to them berds--th' werld seems fuul of 'em--all whistlin' an' pipin'," he sed.  "Luuk at 'em dartin' about, an' harken at 'em callin' to eech uther.  Cum springtiem seems liek as if all th' world's callin'. Th leevs is uncurlin' so U can see 'em--an', mi werd, th' nies smels thair is about!" snifing with his hapy ternd-up noez.  "An' that pur lad lyin' shut up an' seein' so litl that he gets to thinkin' o' things as sets him screamin'. Eh! mi! we mun get him out heer--we mun get him watchin' an listenin' an' sniffin' up th' air an' get him just soekt thru wi' sunshien.  An' we munnot looz no tiem about it."

When he was verry much interested he offen spoek qiet braud Yorkshire tho at uther tiems he tried to modifi his diealect so that Mary cuud beter understand.  But she luvd his braud Yorkshire and had in fact bin trieing to lern to speek it herself.  So she spoek a litl now. 

"Ae, that we mun," she sed (which ment "Yes, indeed, we must"). "I'l tel thee whut us'll do ferst," she proseeded, and Dickon grind, becauz when th litl wench tried to twist her tung into speeking Yorkshire it amuezd him verry much.  "He's tuuk a graidely fansy to thee.  He wonts to see thee and he wonts to see Suut an' Capten.  When I go bak to th hous to tauk to him I'l ax him if tha' canna' cum an' see him tomorro mornin'--an'. bring tha' creechers wi' thee--an' then--in a bit, when thair's mor leevs out, an' hapen a bud or too, we'll get him to cum out an' tha' shal puush him in his chair an' we'll bring him heer an' sho him evrything."

When she stopt she was qiet proud of herself.  She had never maed a long speech in Yorkshire befor and she had rememberd verry wel. 

"Tha' mun tauk a bit o' Yorkshire liek that to Mester Colin," Dickon chukld.  "Tha'll maek him laf an' thair's nowt as guud for il foek as laughin' is.  Muther ses she beleevs as haf a hour's guud laf evry mornin' 'ud cuer a chap as was makin' redy for tiefus feever."

"I'm going to tauk Yorkshire to him this verry dae," sed Mary, chuckling herself. 

Th garden had reecht th tiem when evry dae and evry niet it seemd as if Majishans wer pasing thru it drawing luvlynes out of th erth and th bows with wands.  It was hard to go awae and leev it all, particuelarly as Nut had akchualy crept on to her dres and Shel had scrambld doun th trunk of th apl-tree thae sat under and staed thair luuking at her with inqiering ies.  But she went bak to th hous and when she sat doun cloes to Colin's bed he began to snif as Dickon did tho not in such an expeeryenst wae. 

"U smel liek flowers and--and fresh things," he cried out qiet joiusly.  "Whut is it U smel of? It's cool and worm and sweet all at th saem tiem."

"It's th' wind frum th' mur," sed Mary.  "It cums o' sittin' on th' gras under a tree wi' Dickon an' wi' Capten an' Suut an' Nut an' Shel.  It's th' springtiem an' out o' dors an' sunshien as smels so graidely."

She sed it as braudly as she cuud, and U do not noe how braudly Yorkshire sounds until U hav herd sum wun speek it.  Colin began to laf. 

"Whut ar U doing?" he sed.  "I never herd U tauk liek that befor.  How funy it sounds."

"I'm givin' thee a bit o' Yorkshire," anserd Mary trieumfantly.  `I canna' tauk as graidely as Dickon an' Martha can but tha' sees I can shaep a bit.  Duzn't tha' understand a bit o' Yorkshire when tha' heers it? An' tha' a Yorkshire lad thysel' bred an' born! Eh! I wunder tha'rt not ashaemd o' thi faes."

And then she began to laf too and thae boeth laft until thae cuud not stop themselvs and thae laft until th room ekoed and Mrs. Medlock oepening th dor to cum in droo bak into th coridor and stuud lisening amaezd. 

"Wel, upon mi werd!" she sed, speeking rather braud Yorkshire herself becauz thair was no wun to heer her and she was so astonisht.  "Hooever herd th' liek! Hooever on erth wuud ha' thaut it!"

Thair was so much to tauk about.  It seemd as if Colin cuud never heer enuf of Dickon and Capten and Suut and Nut and Shel and th poeny hoos naem was Jump.  Mary had run round into th wuud with Dickon to see Jump.  He was a tieny litl shagy mur poeny with thik loks hanging oever his ies and with a prity faes and a nuzling velvet noez.  He was rather thin with living on mur gras but he was as tuf and wiery as if th musl in his litl legs had bin maed of steel springs.  He had lifted his hed and whinyd sofftly th moement he saw Dickon and he had troted up to him and puut his hed across his shoelder and then Dickon had taukt into his eer and Jump had taukt bak in od litl whinnies and pufs and snorts.  Dickon had maed him giv Mary his small frunt huuf and kis her on her cheek with his velvet muzl. 

"Duz he reealy understand evrything Dickon ses?" Colin askt. 

"It seems as if he duz," anserd Mary.  "Dickon ses enything wil understand if U'r frends with it for shur, but U hav to be frends for shur."

Colin lae qieet a litl whiel and his straenj grae ies seemd to be stairing at th wall, but Mary saw he was thinking. 

"I wish I was frends with things," he sed at last, "but I'm not.  I never had enything to be frends with, and I can't bair peepl."

"Can't U bair me?" askt Mary. 

"Yes, I can," he anserd.  "It's funy but I eeven liek U."

"Ben Weatherstaff sed I was liek him," sed Mary.  "He sed he'd warant we'd boeth got th saem nasty tempers.  I think U ar liek him too.  We ar all three aliek--U and I and Ben Weatherstaff.  He sed we wer neether of us much to luuk at and we wer as sour as we luukt.  But I don't feel as sour as I uezd to befor I nue th robin and Dickon."

"Did U feel as if U haeted peepl?"

"Yes," anserd Mary without eny afectaeshun.  "I shuud hav detested U if I had seen U befor I saw th robin and Dickon."

Colin puut out his thin hand and tucht her. 

"Mary," he sed, "I wish I hadn't sed whut I did about sending Dickon awae.  I haeted U when U sed he was liek an aenjel and I laft at U but--but perhaps he is."

"Wel, it was rather funy to sae it," she admited frankly, "becauz his noez duz tern up and he has a big mouth and his cloeths hav paches all oever them and he tauks braud Yorkshire, but--but if an aenjel did cum to Yorkshire and liv on th mur--if thair was a Yorkshire aenjel--I beleev he'd understand th green things and noe how to maek them gro and he wuud noe how to tauk to th wield creechers as Dickon duz and thae'd noe he was frends for shur."

"I shuudn't miend Dickon luuking at me," sed Colin; "I wont to see him."

"I'm glad U sed that," anserd Mary, "becauz--becauz--"

Qiet sudenly it caem into her miend that this was th minit to tel him.  Colin nue sumthing nue was cuming. 

"Becauz whut?" he cried eegerly. 

Mary was so ankshus that she got up frum her stool and caem to him and caut hoeld of boeth his hands. 

"Can I trust U? I trusted Dickon becauz berds trusted him.  Can I trust U--for shur--for shur?" she implord. 

Her faes was so solem that he allmoest whisperd his anser. 

"Yes--yes!"

"Wel, Dickon wil cum to see U tomorro morning, and he'l bring his creechers with him."

"O! O!" Colin cried out in deliet. 

"But that's not all," Mary went on, allmoest pael with solem exsietment.  "Th rest is beter.  Thair is a dor into th garden.  I found it.  It is under th ievy on th wall."

If he had bin a strong helthy boi Colin wuud probably hav shouted "Hoorae! Hoorae! Hoorae!" but he was weak and rather histerrical; his ies groo biger and biger and he gaspt for breth. 

"O! Mary!" he cried out with a haf sob.  "Shal I see it? Shal I get into it? Shal I liv to get into it?" and he clucht her hands and dragd her tord him. 

"Of cors U'l see it!" snapt Mary indignantly.  "Of cors U'l liv to get into it! Don't be sily!"

And she was so un-histerrical and nacheral and chieldish that she braut him to his senses and he began to laf at himself and a fue minits afterward she was siting on her stool agen teling him not whut she imajind th seecret garden to be liek but whut it reealy was, and Colin's aeks and tierdnes wer forgoten and he was lisening enrapcherd. 

"It is just whut U thaut it wuud be," he sed at last.  "It sounds just as if U had reealy seen it.  U noe I sed that when U toeld me ferst."

Mary hezitaeted about too minits and then boeldly spoek th trooth. 

"I had seen it--and I had bin in," she sed.  "I found th kee and got in weeks ago.  But I daren't tel U--I daren't becauz I was so afraed I cuudn't trust U--for shur!"





CHAPTER XIX

"IT HAS CUM!"


Of cors Dr. Craeven had bin sent for th morning after Colin had had his tantrum.  He was allwaes sent for at wuns when such a thing ocurd and he allwaes found, when he arievd, a whiet shaeken boi lieing on his bed, sulky and stil so histerrical that he was redy to braek into fresh sobing at th leest werd.  In fact, Dr. Craeven dreded and detested th dificultys of thees vizits.  On this ocaezhun he was awae frum Misselthwaite Manor until afternoon. 

"How is he?" he askt Mrs. Medlock rather iritably when he arievd.  "He wil braek a blud-vesel in wun of thoes fits sum dae.  Th boi is haf insaen with histeeria and self-induljens."

"Wel, ser," anserd Mrs. Medlock, "U'l scairsly beleev yur ies when U see him.  That plaen sour-faest chield that's allmoest as bad as himself has just bewicht him.  How she's dun it thair's no teling.  Th Lord noes she's nuthing to luuk at and U scairsly ever heer her speek, but she did whut nun of us dair do.  She just floo at him liek a litl cat last niet, and stampt her feet and orderd him to stop screeming, and sumhow she startld him so that he akchualy did stop, and this afternoon--wel just cum up and see, ser.  It's past crediting."

Th seen which Dr. Craeven beheld when he enterd his patient's room was indeed rather astonishing to him.  As Mrs. Medlock oepend th dor he herd lafing and chatering.  Colin was on his soefa in his dresing-goun and he was siting up qiet straet luuking at a pikcher in wun of th garden buuks and tauking to th plaen chield hoo at that moement cuud scairsly be calld plaen at all becauz her faes was so gloeing with enjoiment. 

"Thoes long spiers of bloo wuns--we'll hav a lot of thoes," Colin was anounsing.  "Thae'r calld Del-phin-iums."

"Dickon ses thae'r larkspurs maed big and grand," cried Mistres Mary.  "Thair ar clumps thair allredy."

Then thae saw Dr. Craeven and stopt.  Mary becaem qiet stil and Colin luukt fretful. 

"I am sorry to heer U wer il last niet, mi boi," Dr. Craeven sed a triefl nervusly.  He was rather a nervus man. 

"I'm beter now--much beter," Colin anserd, rather liek a Rajah.  "I'm going out in mi chair in a dae or too if it is fien.  I wont sum fresh air."

Dr. Craeven sat doun bi him and felt his puls and luukt at him cueriusly. 

"It must be a verry fien dae," he sed, "and U must be verry cairful not to tier yurself."

"Fresh air woen't tier me," sed th yung Rajah. 

As thair had bin ocaezhuns when this saem yung jentlman had shreekt aloud with raej and had insisted that fresh air wuud giv him coeld and kil him, it is not to be wunderd at that his doctor felt sumwhut startld. 

"I thaut U did not liek fresh air," he sed. 

"I don't when I am bi mieself," replied th Rajah; "but mi cuzin is going out with me."

"And th ners, of cors?" sugjested Dr. Craeven. 

"No, I wil not hav th ners," so magnifisently that Mary cuud not help remembering how th yung naetiv Prins had luukt with his diemonds and emeralds and perls stuk all oever him and th graet roobys on th small dark hand he had waevd to comand his servants to aproech with salaams and reseev his orders. 

"Mi cuzin noes how to taek cair of me.  I am allwaes beter when she is with me.  She maed me beter last niet.  A verry strong boi I noe wil puush mi carrej."

Dr. Craeven felt rather alarmd.  If this tiersum histerrical boi shuud chans to get wel he himself wuud looz all chans of inherriting Misselthwaite; but he was not an unscroopuelus man, tho he was a weak wun, and he did not intend to let him run into akchual daenjer. 

"He must be a strong boi and a stedy boi," he sed.  "And I must noe sumthing about him.  Hoo is he? Whut is his naem?"

"It's Dickon," Mary spoek up sudenly.  She felt sumhow that evrybody hoo nue th mur must noe Dickon.  And she was riet, too.  She saw that in a moement Dr. Craven's seerius faes relaxt into a releevd smiel. 

"O, Dickon," he sed.  "If it is Dickon U wil be saef enuf.  He's as strong as a mur poeny, is Dickon."

"And he's trusty," sed Mary.  "He's th' trustiest lad i' Yorkshire." She had bin tauking Yorkshire to Colin and she forgot herself. 

"Did Dickon teech U that?" askt Dr. Craeven, lafing outriet. 

"I'm lerning it as if it was French," sed Mary rather coeldly.  "It's liek a naetiv diealect in India.  Verry clever peepl tri to lern them.  I liek it and so duz Colin." "Wel, wel," he sed.  "If it amuses U perhaps it woen't do U eny harm.  Did U taek yur broemied last niet, Colin?"

"No," Colin anserd.  "I wuudn't taek it at ferst and after Mary maed me qieet she taukt me to sleep--in a lo vois--about th spring creeping into a garden."

"That sounds soothing," sed Dr. Craeven, mor perplext than ever and glansing siedwaes at Mistres Mary siting on her stool and luuking doun sielently at th carpet.  "U ar evidently beter, but U must remember--"

"I don't wont to remember," interupted th Rajah, apeering agen.  "When I lie bi mieself and remember I begin to hav paens evrywhair and I think of things that maek me begin to screem becauz I haet them so.  If thair was a doctor enywhair hoo cuud maek U forget U wer il insted of remembering it I wuud hav him braut heer." And he waevd a thin hand which aut reealy to hav bin cuverd with roial signet rings maed of roobys.  "It is becauz mi cuzin maeks me forget that she maeks me beter."

Dr. Craeven had never maed such a short stae after a "tantrum"; uezhualy he was obliejd to remaen a verry long tiem and do a graet meny things.  This afternoon he did not giv eny medisin or leev eny nue orders and he was spaird eny disagreeabl seens.  When he went dounstairs he luukt verry thautful and when he taukt to Mrs. Medlock in th liebrairy she felt that he was a much puzld man. 

"Wel, ser," she vencherd, "cuud U hav beleevd it?"

"It is sertenly a nue staet of afairs," sed th doctor.  "And thair's no denieing it is beter than th oeld wun."

"I beleev Susan Sowerby's riet--I do that," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "I stopt in her cotej on mi wae to Thwaite yesterdae and had a bit of tauk with her.  And she ses to me, 'well, Sarah Ann, she mayn't be a guud chield, an' she mayn't be a prity wun, but she's a chield, an' children needs children.' We went to scool together, Susan Sowerby and me."

"She's th best sik ners I noe," sed Dr. Craeven.  "When I fiend her in a cotej I noe th chanses ar that I shal saev mi paeshent."

Mrs. Medlock smield.  She was fond of Susan Sowerby. 

"She's got a wae with her, has Susan," she went on qiet volubly.  "I'v bin thinking all morning of wun thing she sed yesterdae.  She ses, `Wuns when I was givin' th' children a bit of a preech after thae'd bin fightin' I ses to 'em all, "When I was at scool mi jography toeld as th' werld was shaept liek a orenj an' I found out befor I was ten that th' hoel orenj duzn't belong to noebody.  No wun oens mor than his bit of a qorter an' thair's tiems it seems liek thair's not enow qorters to go round.  But don't U--nun o' U--think as U oen th' hoel orenj or U'l fiend out U'r mistaeken, an' U woen't fiend it out without hard noks." `Whut children lerns frum children,' she ses, 'is that thair's no sens in grabbin' at th' hoel orenj--peel an' all.  If U do U'l liekly not get eeven th' pips, an' them's too biter to eet.'"

"She's a shrood wuuman," sed Dr. Craeven, puuting on his coet. 

"Wel, she's got a wae of saeing things," ended Mrs. Medlock, much pleezd.  "Sumtiems I'v sed to her, 'eh! Susan, if U was a diferent wuuman an' didn't tauk such braud Yorkshire I'v seen th tiems when I shuud hav sed U was clever.'"

 That niet Colin slept without wuns awaekening and when he oepend his ies in th morning he lae stil and smield without noeing it--smield becauz he felt so cueriusly cumfortabl.  It was akchualy nies to be awaek, and he ternd oever and strecht his lims luxuriously.  He felt as if tiet strings which had held him had loosend themselvs and let him go.  He did not noe that Dr. Craeven wuud hav sed that his nervs had relaxt and rested themselvs.  Insted of lieing and stairing at th wall and wishing he had not awaekend, his miend was fuul of th plans he and Mary had maed yesterdae, of pikchers of th garden and of Dickon and his wield creechers.  It was so nies to hav things to think about.  And he had not bin awaek mor than ten minits when he herd feet runing along th coridor and Mary was at th dor.  Th next minit she was in th room and had run across to his bed, bringing with her a waft of fresh air fuul of th sent of th morning. 

"U'v bin out! U'v bin out! Thair's that nies smel of leevs!" he cried. 

She had bin runing and her hair was loos and bloen and she was briet with th air and pink-cheeked, tho he cuud not see it. 

"It's so buetyful!" she sed, a litl brethles with her speed.  "U never saw enything so buetyful! It has cum! I thaut it had cum that uther morning, but it was oenly cuming.  It is heer now! It has cum, th Spring! Dickon ses so!"

"Has it?" cried Colin, and tho he reealy nue nuthing about it he felt his hart beet.  He akchualy sat up in bed. 

"Oepen th windo!" he aded, lafing haf with joiful exsietment and haf at his oen fansy.  "Perhaps we mae heer goelden trumpets!"

And tho he laft, Mary was at th windo in a moement and in a moement mor it was oepend wied and freshnes and sofftnes and sents and birds' songs wer poring thru. 

"That's fresh air," she sed.  "Lie on yur bak and draw in long breths of it.  That's whut Dickon duz when he's lieing on th mur.  He ses he feels it in his vaens and it maeks him strong and he feels as if he cuud liv forever and ever.  Breeth it and breeth it."

She was oenly repeeting whut Dickon had toeld her, but she caut Colin's fansy. 

"`Forever and ever'! Duz it maek him feel liek that?" he sed, and he did as she toeld him, drawing in long deep breths oever and oever agen until he felt that sumthing qiet nue and delietful was hapening to him. 

Mary was at his bedsied agen. 

"Things ar crouding up out of th erth," she ran on in a hery.  "And thair ar flowers uncurling and buds on evrything and th green vael has cuverd neerly all th grae and th berds ar in such a hery about thair nests for feer thae mae be too laet that sum of them ar eeven fieting for plaeses in th seecret garden.  And th roez-buushes luuk as wik as wik can be, and thair ar primroezes in th laens and wuuds, and th seeds we planted ar up, and Dickon has braut th fox and th cro and th sqerels and a nue-born lam."

And then she pauzd for breth.  Th nue-born lam Dickon had found three daes befor lieing bi its ded muther amung th gorse buushes on th mur.  It was not th ferst mutherles lam he had found and he nue whut to do with it.  He had taeken it to th cotej rapt in his jaket and he had let it lie neer th fier and had fed it with worm milk.  It was a sofft thing with a darling sily baeby faes and legs rather long for its body.  Dickon had carryd it oever th mur in his arms and its feeding botl was in his poket with a sqerel, and when Mary had sat under a tree with its limp warmness hudld on her lap she had felt as if she wer too fuul of straenj joi to speek.  A lam--a lam! A living lam hoo lae on yur lap liek a baeby!

She was descriebing it with graet joi and Colin was lisening and drawing in long breths of air when th ners enterd.  She started a litl at th siet of th oepen windo.  She had sat stiefling in th room meny a worm dae becauz her paeshent was shur that oepen windoes gaev peepl coeld. 

"Ar U shur U ar not chily, Master Colin?" she inqierd. 

"No," was th anser.  "I am breething long breths of fresh air.  It maeks U strong.  I am going to get up to th soefa for brekfast.  Mi cuzin wil hav brekfast with me."

Th ners went awae, conseeling a smiel, to giv th order for too brekfasts.  She found th servants' hall a mor amuezing plaes than th invalid's chaember and just now evrybody wonted to heer th nues frum upstairs.  Thair was a graet deel of joeking about th unpopuelar yung reecloos hoo, as th cuuk sed, "had found his master, and guud for him." Th servants' hall had bin verry tierd of th tantrums, and th butler, hoo was a man with a family, had mor than wuns exprest his opinyon that th invalid wuud be all th beter "for a guud hieding."

When Colin was on his soefa and th brekfast for too was puut upon th taebl he maed an anounsment to th ners in his moest Rajah-liek maner. 

"A boi, and a fox, and a cro, and too sqerels, and a nue-born lam, ar cuming to see me this morning.  I wont them braut upstairs as soon as thae cum," he sed.  "U ar not to begin plaeing with th animals in th servants' hall and keep them thair.  I wont them heer." Th ners gaev a sliet gasp and tried to conseel it with a cauf. 

"Yes, ser," she anserd. 

"I'l tel U whut U can do," aded Colin, waeving his hand.  "U can tel Martha to bring them heer.  Th boi is Martha's bruther.  His naem is Dickon and he is an animal charmer."

"I hoep th animals woen't biet, Master Colin," sed th ners. 

"I toeld U he was a charmer," sed Colin austeerly.  "Charmers' animals never biet."

"Thair ar snaek-charmers in India," sed Mary.  "and thae can puut thair snakes' heds in thair mouths."

"Guudnes!" shuderd th ners. 

Thae aet thair brekfast with th morning air poring in upon them.  Colin's brekfast was a verry guud wun and Mary wocht him with seerius interest. 

"U wil begin to get fater just as I did," she sed.  "I never wonted mi brekfast when I was in India and now I allwaes wont it."

"I wonted mien this morning," sed Colin.  "Perhaps it was th fresh air.  When do U think Dickon wil cum?"

He was not long in cuming.  In about ten minits Mary held up her hand. 

"Lisen!" she sed.  "Did U heer a caw?"

Colin lisend and herd it, th oddest sound in th werld to heer insied a hous, a hors "caw-caw."

"Yes," he anserd. 

"That's Suut," sed Mary.  "Lisen agen.  Do U heer a bleet--a tieny wun?"

"O, yes!" cried Colin, qiet flushing. 

"That's th nue-born lam," sed Mary.  "He's cuming."

Dickon's murland boots wer thik and clumzy and tho he tried to wauk qieetly thae maed a clumping sound as he waukt thru th long coridors.  Mary and Colin herd him marching--marching, until he past thru th tapestry dor on to th sofft carpet of Colin's oen pasej. 

"If U pleez, ser," anounst Martha, oepening th dor, "if U pleez, ser, heer's Dickon an' his creechers."

Dickon caem in smieling his niesest wied smiel.  Th nue- born lam was in his arms and th litl red fox troted bi his sied.  Nut sat on his left shoelder and Suut on his riet and Shell's hed and paws peeped out of his coet poket. 

Colin sloely sat up and staird and staird--as he had staird when he ferst saw Mary; but this was a stair of wunder and deliet.  Th trooth was that in spiet of all he had herd he had not in th leest understuud whut this boi wuud be liek and that his fox and his cro and his sqerels and his lam wer so neer to him and his frendlynes that thae seemd allmoest to be part of himself.  Colin had never taukt to a boi in his lief and he was so oeverwhelmd bi his oen plezher and cueriosity that he did not eeven think of speeking. 

But Dickon did not feel th leest shi or aukward.  He had not felt embarrast becauz th cro had not noen his langgwej and had oenly staird and had not spoeken to him th ferst tiem thae met.  Creechers wer allwaes liek that until thae found out about U.  He waukt oever to Colin's soefa and puut th nue-born lam qieetly on his lap, and imeedyetly th litl creecher ternd to th worm velvet dresing-goun and began to nuzl and nuzl into its foelds and but its tiet-curld hed with sofft impaeshens agenst his sied.  Of cors no boi cuud hav helpt speeking then. 

"Whut is it doing?" cried Colin.  "Whut duz it wont?"

"It wonts its muther," sed Dickon, smieling mor and mor.  "I braut it to thee a bit hunggry becauz I knowed tha'd liek to see it feed."

He nelt doun bi th soefa and tuuk a feeding-botl frum his poket. 

"Cum on, litl 'un," he sed, terning th small wuuly whiet hed with a jentl broun hand.  "This is whut tha's after.  Tha'll get mor out o' this than tha' wil out o' silk velvet coets.  Thair now," and he puusht th ruber tip of th botl into th nuzling mouth and th lam began to suk it with ravenus extasy. 

After that thair was no wundering whut to sae.  Bi th tiem th lam fel asleep qeschuns pord forth and Dickon anserd them all.  He toeld them how he had found th lam just as th sun was riezing three mornings ago.  He had bin standing on th mur lisening to a skielark and woching him swing hieer and hieer into th skie until he was oenly a spek in th hiets of bloo. 

"I'd allmoest lost him but for his song an' I was wonderin' how a chap cuud heer it when it seemd as if he'd get out o' th' werld in a minit--an' just then I herd somethin' els far off amung th' gorse buushes.  It was a weak bleatin' an' I knowed it was a nue lam as was hunggry an' I knowed it wuudn't be hunggry if it hadn't lost its muther sumhow, so I set off searchin'. Eh! I did hav a luuk for it.  I went in an' out amung th' gorse buushes an' round an' round an' I allwaes seemd to taek th' rong turnin'. But at last I seed a bit o' whiet bi a rok on top o' th' mur an' I cliemd up an' found th' litl 'un haf ded wi' coeld an' clemmin'." Whiel he taukt, Suut floo solemly in and out of th oepen windo and cawed remarks about th seenery whiel Nut and Shel maed excurzhuns into th big trees outsied and ran up and doun trunks and explord branches.  Capten curld up neer Dickon, hoo sat on th harth-rug frum preferens. 

Thae luukt at th pikchers in th gardning buuks and Dickon nue all th flowers bi thair cuntry naems and nue exactly which wuns wer allredy groeing in th seecret garden. 

"I couldna' sae that thair naem," he sed, pointing to wun under which was riten "Aquilegia," "but us calls that a columbine, an' that thair wun it's a snapdragon and thae boeth gro wield in hejes, but thees is garden wuns an' thae'r biger an' grander.  Thair's sum big clumps o' columbine in th' garden.  Thae'l luuk liek a bed o' bloo an' whiet buterflies flutterin' when thae'r out."

"I'm going to see them," cried Colin.  "I am going to see them!"

"Ae, that tha' mun," sed Mary qiet seeriusly.  "An' tha' munnot looz no tiem about it."





CHAPTER XX

"I SHAL LIV FOREVER--AND EVER--AND EVER!"


 But thae wer obliejd to waet mor than a week becauz ferst thair caem sum verry windy daes and then Colin was thretend with a coeld, which too things hapening wun after th uther wuud no dout hav throen him into a raej but that thair was so much cairful and misteerius planing to do and allmoest evry dae Dickon caem in, if oenly for a fue minits, to tauk about whut was hapening on th mur and in th laens and hejes and on th borders of streems.  Th things he had to tel about otters' and badgers' and wauter-rats' houzes, not to menshun birds' nests and feeld-mies and thair burroes, wer enuf to maek U allmoest trembl with exsietment when U herd all th intimet deetaels frum an animal charmer and reealiezd with whut thriling eegernes and angzieity th hoel bizy underwerld was werking. 

"Thae'r saem as us," sed Dickon, "oenly thae hav to bild thair hoems evry yeer.  An' it keeps 'em so bizy thae fair scufl to get 'em dun."

Th moest absorbing thing, however, was th preparaeshuns to be maed befor Colin cuud be transported with sufishent seecresy to th garden.  No wun must see th chair-carrej and Dickon and Mary after thae ternd a serten corner of th shrubery and enterd upon th wauk outsied th ievyd walls.  As eech dae past, Colin had becum mor and mor fixt in his feeling that th mistery serounding th garden was wun of its graetest charms.  Nuthing must spoil that.  No wun must ever suspect that thae had a seecret.  Peepl must think that he was simply going out with Mary and Dickon becauz he liekt them and did not object to thair luuking at him.  Thae had long and qiet delietful tauks about thair root.  Thae wuud go up this path and doun that wun and cross th uther and go round amung th founten flower-beds as if thae wer luuking at th "beding-out plants" th hed gardner, Mr. Roech, had bin having araenjd.  That wuud seem such a rashunal thing to do that no wun wuud think it at all misteerius.  Thae wuud tern into th shrubery wauks and looz themselvs until thae caem to th long walls.  It was allmoest as seerius and elaboretly thaut out as th plans of march maed bi geat jenerals in tiem of wor. 

Roomors of th nue and cuerius things which wer ocuring in th invalid's apartments had of cors filterd thru th servants' hall into th staebl yards and out amung th gardners, but notwithstanding this, Mr. Roech was startld wun dae when he reseevd orders frum Master Colin's room to th efect that he must report himself in th apartment no outsieder had ever seen, as th invalid himself dezierd to speek to him. 

"Wel, wel," he sed to himself as he herydly chaenjd his coet, "whut's to do now? His Roial Hienes that wasn't to be luukt at calling up a man he's never set ies on."

Mr. Roech was not without cueriosity.  He had never caut eeven a glimps of th boi and had herd a duzen exajeraeted storys about his uncany luuks and waes and his insaen tempers.  Th thing he had herd oftenest was that he miet die at eny moement and thair had bin nuemerus fansyful descripshuns of a humpt bak and helples lims, given bi peepl hoo had never seen him. 

"Things ar chaenjing in this hous, Mr. Roech," sed Mrs. Medlock, as she led him up th bak staircaes to th coridor on to which oepend th hitherto misteerius chaember. 

"Let's hoep thae'r chaenjing for th beter, Mrs. Medlock," he anserd. 

"Thae cuudn't wel chaenj for th wers," she continued; "and qeer as it all is thair's them as fiends thair duetys maed a lot eezyer to stand up under.  Don't U be serpriezd, Mr. Roech, if U fiend yurself in th midl of a menajery and Martha Sowerby's Dickon mor at hoem than U or me cuud ever be."

Thair reealy was a sort of Majic about Dickon, as Mary allwaes prievetly beleevd.  When Mr. Roech herd his naem he smield qiet leniently. 

"He'd be at hoem in Buckingham Palis or at th botom of a coel mien," he sed.  "And yet it's not impuedens, eether.  He's just fien, is that lad."

It was perhaps wel he had bin prepaird or he miet hav bin startld.  When th bedroom dor was oepend a larj cro, which seemd qiet at hoem percht on th hi bak of a carven chair, anounst th entrans of a vizitor bi saeing "Caw--Caw" qiet loudly.  In spiet of Mrs. Medlock's worning, Mr. Roech oenly just escaept being sufishently undignified to jump bakward. 

Th yung Rajah was neether in bed nor on his soefa.  He was siting in an armchair and a yung lam was standing bi him shaeking its tael in feeding-lam fashun as Dickon nelt giving it milk frum its botl.  A sqerel was percht on Dickon's bent bak atentivly nibling a nut.  Th litl gerl frum India was siting on a big fuutstool luuking on. 

"Heer is Mr. Roech, Master Colin," sed Mrs. Medlock. 

Th yung Rajah ternd and luukt his servitor oever--at leest that was whut th hed gardner felt hapend. 

"O, U ar Roech, ar U?" he sed.  "I sent for U to giv U sum verry important orders."

"Verry guud, ser," anserd Roech, wundering if he was to reseev instrucshuns to fel all th oeks in th park or to transform th orchards into wauter-gardens.

"I am going out in mi chair this afternoon," sed Colin.  "If th fresh air agrees with me I mae go out evry dae.  When I go, nun of th gardners ar to be enywhair neer th Long Wauk bi th garden walls.  No wun is to be thair.  I shal go out about too o'clok and evrywun must keep awae until I send werd that thae mae go bak to thair werk."

"Verry guud, ser," replied Mr. Roech, much releevd to heer that th oeks miet remaen and that th orchards wer saef.  "Mary," sed Colin, terning to her, "whut is that thing U sae in India when U hav finisht tauking and wont peepl to go?"

"U sae, `U hav mi permishun to go,'" anserd Mary. 

Th Rajah waevd his hand. 

"U hav mi permishun to go, Roech," he sed.  "But, remember, this is verry important."

"Caw--Caw!" remarkt th cro horsly but not impolitely. 

"Verry guud, ser.  Thank U, ser," sed Mr. Roech, and Mrs. Medlock tuuk him out of th room. 

Outsied in th coridor, being a rather guud-naecherd man, he smield until he allmoest laft. 

"Mi werd!" he sed, "he's got a fien lordly wae with him, hasn't he? U'd think he was a hoel Roial Family roeld into wun--Prins Consort and all.".

"Eh!" proetested Mrs. Medlock, "we'v had to let him trampl all oever evry wun of us ever sinss he had feet and he thinks that's whut foeks was born for."

"Perhaps he'l gro out of it, if he lievs," sugjested Mr. Roech. 

"Wel, thair's wun thing prity shur," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "If he duz liv and that Indian chield staes heer I'l warant she teeches him that thewhole orenj duz not belong to him, as Susan Sowerby ses.  And he'l be liekly to fiend out th siez of his oen qorter."

Insied th room Colin was leening bak on his cuushuns. 

"It's all saef now," he sed.  "And this afternoon I shal see it--this afternoon I shal be in it!"

Dickon went bak to th garden with his creechers and Mary staed with Colin.  She did not think he luukt tierd but he was verry qieet befor thair lunch caem and he was qieet whiel thae wer eeting it.  She wunderd whi and askt him about it. 

"Whut big ies U'v got, Colin," she sed.  "When U ar thinking thae get as big as sausers.  Whut ar U thinking about now?"

"I can't help thinking about whut it wil luuk liek," he anserd. 

"Th garden?" askt Mary. 

"Th springtiem," he sed.  "I was thinking that I'v reealy never seen it befor.  I scairsly ever went out and when I did go I never luukt at it.  I didn't eeven think about it."

"I never saw it in India becauz thair wasn't eny," sed Mary. 

Shut in and morbid as his lief had bin, Colin had mor imajinaeshun than she had and at leest he had spent a guud deel of tiem luuking at wunderful buuks and pikchers. 

"That morning when U ran in and sed `It's cum! It's cum!, U maed me feel qiet qeer.  It sounded as if things wer cuming with a graet proseshun and big bersts and wafts of muezic.  I'v a pikcher liek it in wun of mi buuks--crouds of luvly peepl and children with garlands and branches with blosoms on them, evrywun lafing and dansing and crouding and plaeing on pieps.  That was whi I sed, `Perhaps we shal heer goelden trumpets' and toeld U to thro oepen th windo."

"How funy!" sed Mary.  "That's reealy just whut it feels liek.  And if all th flowers and leevs and green things and berds and wield creechers danst past at wuns, whut a croud it wuud be! I'm shur thae'd dans and sing and floot and that wuud be th wafts of muezic."

Thae boeth laft but it was not becauz th iedeea was lafabl but becauz thae boeth so liekt it. 

A litl laeter th ners maed Colin redy.  She noetist that insted of lieing liek a log whiel his cloeths wer puut on he sat up and maed sum eforts to help himself, and he taukt and laft with Mary all th tiem. 

"This is wun of his guud daes, ser," she sed to Dr. Craeven, hoo dropt in to inspect him.  "He's in such guud spirits that it maeks him strongger."

"I'l call in agen laeter in th afternoon, after he has cum in," sed Dr. Craeven.  "I must see how th going out agrees with him.  I wish," in a verry lo vois, "that he wuud let U go with him."

"I'd rather giv up th caes this moement, ser, than eeven stae heer whiel it's sugjested," anserd th ners.  With suden fermnes. 

"I hadn't reealy desieded to sugjest it," sed th doctor, with his sliet nervusnes.  "We'll tri th experriment.  Dickon's a lad I'd trust with a nue-born chield."

Th stronggest fuutman in th hous carryd Colin doun stairs and puut him in his wheeld chair neer which Dickon waeted outsied.  After th manservant had araenjd his rugs and cuushuns th Rajah waevd his hand to him and to th ners. 

"U hav mi permishun to go," he sed, and thae boeth disapeerd qikly and it must be confest gigld when thae wer saefly insied th hous. 

Dickon began to puush th wheeld chair sloely and stedily.  Mistres Mary waukt besied it and Colin leend bak and lifted his faes to th skie.  Th arch of it luukt verry hi and th small snoey clouds seemd liek whiet berds floeting on outspred wings belo its cristal blueness.  Th wind swept in sofft big breths doun frum th mur and was straenj with a wield cleer sented sweetnes.  Colin kept lifting his thin chest to draw it in, and his big ies luukt as if it wer thae which wer lisening--lisening, insted of his eers. 

"Thair ar so meny sounds of singing and huming and calling out," he sed.  "Whut is that sent th pufs of wind bring?"

"It's gorse on th' mur that's openin' out," anserd Dickon.  "Eh! th' bees ar at it wunderful todae."

Not a hueman creecher was to be caut siet of in th paths thae tuuk.  In fact evry gardner or gardener's lad had bin witched awae.  But thae wound in and out amung th shrubery and out and round th founten beds, foloeing thair cairfuly pland root for th meer misteerius plezher of it.  But when at last thae ternd into th Long Wauk bi th ievyd walls th exsieted sens of an aproeching thril maed them, for sum cuerius reezon thae cuud not hav explaend, begin to speek in whispers. 

"This is it," breethd Mary.  "This is wherr I uezd to wauk up and doun and wunder and wunder." "Is it?" cried Colin, and his ies began to serch th ievy with eeger curiousness.  "But I can see nuthing," he whisperd.  "Thair is no dor."

"That's whut I thaut," sed Mary. 

Then thair was a luvly brethles sielens and th chair wheeld on. 

"That is th garden wherr Ben Weatherstaff werks," sed Mary. 

"Is it?" sed Colin. 

A fue yards mor and Mary whisperd agen. 

"This is wherr th robin floo oever th wall," she sed. 

"Is it?" cried Colin.  "O! I wish he'd cum agen!"

"And that," sed Mary with solem deliet, pointing under a big lielac buush, "is wherr he percht on th litl heep of erth and shoed me th kee."

Then Colin sat up. 

"Wherr? Wherr? Thair?" he cried, and his ies wer as big as th wolf's in Red Rieding-Huud, when Red Rieding-Huud felt calld upon to remark on them.  Dickon stuud stil and th wheeld chair stopt. 

"And this," sed Mary, steping on to th bed cloes to th ievy, "is wherr I went to tauk to him when he cherpt at me frum th top of th wall.  And this is th ievy th wind bloo bak," and she tuuk hoeld of th hanging green curten. 

"O! is it--is it!" gaspt Colin. 

"And heer is th handl, and heer is th dor.  Dickon puush him in--puush him in qikly!"

And Dickon did it with wun strong, stedy, splendid puush. 

But Colin had akchualy dropt bak agenst his cuushuns, eeven tho he gaspt with deliet, and he had cuverd his ies with his hands and held them thair shuting out evrything until thae wer insied and th chair stopt as if bi majic and th dor was cloezd.  Not til then did he taek them awae and luuk round and round and round as Dickon and Mary had dun.  And oever walls and erth and trees and swinging spraes and tendrils th fair green vael of tender litl leevs had crept, and in th gras under th trees and th grae erns in th alcoevs and heer and thair evrywhair wer tuches or splashes of goeld and perpl and whiet and th trees wer shoeing pink and sno abuv his hed and thair wer flutering of wings and faent sweet pieps and huming and sents and sents.  And th sun fel worm upon his faes liek a hand with a luvly tuch.  And in wunder Mary and Dickon stuud and staird at him.  He luukt so straenj and diferent becauz a pink glo of culor had akchualy crept all oever him--ievory faes and nek and hands and all. 

"I shal get wel! I shal get wel!" he cried out.  "Mary! Dickon! I shal get wel! And I shal liv forever and ever and ever!"





CHAPTER XXI

BEN WEATHERSTAFF


 Wun of th straenj things about living in th werld is that it is oenly now and then wun is qiet shur wun is going to liv forever and ever and ever.  Wun noes it sumtiems when wun gets up at th tender solem daun-tiem and goes out and stands aloen and throes one's hed far bak and luuks up and up and woches th pael skie sloely chaenjing and flushing and marvelus unnoen things hapening until th Eest allmoest maeks wun cri out and one's hart stands stil at th straenj unchaenjing majesty of th riezing of th sun--which has bin hapening evry morning for thouzands and thouzands and thouzands of yeers.  Wun noes it then for a moement or so.  And wun noes it sumtiems when wun stands bi wunself in a wuud at sunset and th misteerius deep goeld stilnes slanting thru and under th branches seems to be saeing sloely agen and agen sumthing wun cannot qiet heer, however much wun tries.  Then sumtiems th imens qieet of th dark bloo at niet with milyons of stars waeting and woching maeks wun shur; and sumtiems a sound of far-off muezic maeks it troo; and sumtiems a luuk in sum one's ies. 

And it was liek that with Colin when he ferst saw and herd and felt th Springtiem insied th foer hi walls of a hiden garden.  That afternoon th hoel werld seemd to devoet itself to being perfect and raediantly buetyful and kiend to wun boi.  Perhaps out of puer hevenly guudnes th spring caem and cround evrything it posibly cuud into that wun plaes.  Mor than wuns Dickon pauzd in whut he was doing and stuud stil with a sort of groeing wunder in his ies, shaeking his hed sofftly. 

"Eh! it is graidely," he sed.  "I'm twelv goin' on therteen an' thair's a lot o' afternoons in therteen yeers, but seems to me liek I never seed wun as graidely as this 'ere."

"Ae, it is a graidely wun," sed Mary, and she sied for meer joi.  "I'l warant it's th graidelest wun as ever was in this werld."

"Duz tha' think," sed Colin with dreemy cairfulnes, "as hapen it was maed loike this 'ere all o' perpos for me?"

"Mi werd!" cried Mary admieringly, "that thair is a bit o' guud Yorkshire.  Tha'rt shapin' ferst-raet--that tha' art."

And deliet raend.  Thae droo th chair under th plum-tree, which was sno-whiet with blosoms and muezical with bees.  It was liek a king's canopy, a fairy king's. Thair wer flowering cherry-trees neer and apl-trees hoos buds wer pink and whiet, and heer and thair wun had berst oepen wied.  Between th blossoming branches of th canopy bits of bloo skie luukt doun liek wunderful ies. 

Mary and Dickon werkt a litle heer and thair and Colin wocht them.  Thae braut him things to luuk at--buds which wer oepening, buds which wer tiet cloezd, bits of twig hoos leevs wer just shoeing green, th fether of a wuudpeker which had dropt on th gras, th empty shel of sum berd erly hacht.  Dickon puusht th chair sloely round and round th garden, stoping evry uther moement to let him luuk at wunders springing out of th erth or traeling doun frum trees.  It was liek being taeken in staet round th cuntry of a majic king and qeen and shoen all th misteerius riches it contaend. 

"I wunder if we shal see th robin?" sed Colin. 

"Tha'll see him offen enow after a bit," anserd Dickon.  "When th' egs hatches out th' litl chap he'l be kep' so bizy it'l maek his hed swim.  Tha'll see him flyin' bakward an' for'ard carryin' werms ni as big as himsel' an' that much noiz goin' on in th' nest when he gets thair as fair flusters him so as he scairs noes which big mouth to drop th' ferst pees in.  An' gapin' beaks an' squawks on evry sied.  Muther ses as when she sees th' werk a robin has to keep them gapin' beaks fild, she feels liek she was a laedy with nothin, to do.  She ses she's seen th' litl chaps when it seemd liek th' swet must be droppin' off 'em, tho foek can't see it."

This maed them gigl so delightedly that thae wer obliejd to cuver thair mouths with thair hands, remembering that thae must not be herd.  Colin had bin instructed as to th law of whispers and lo voises several daes befor.  He liekt th mysteriousness of it and did his best, but in th midst of exsieted enjoiment it is rather dificult never to laf abuv a whisper. 

Evry moement of th afternoon was fuul of nue things and evry our th sunshien groo mor goelden.  Th wheeld chair had bin drawn bak under th canopy and Dickon had sat doun on th gras and had just drawn out his piep when Colin saw sumthing he had not had tiem to noetis befor. 

"That's a verry oeld tree oever thair, isn't it?" he sed.  Dickon luukt across th gras at th tree and Mary luukt and thair was a breef moement of stilnes. 

"Yes," anserd Dickon, after it, and his lo vois had a verry jentl sound. 

Mary gaezd at th tree and thaut. 

"Th branches ar qiet grae and thair's not a singgl leef enywhair," Colin went on.  "It's qiet ded, isn't it?"

"Ae," admited Dickon.  "But them roezes as has cliemd all oever it wil neer hied evry bit o' th' ded wuud when thae'r fuul o' leevs an' flowers.  It woen't luuk ded then.  It'l be th' prityest of all."

Mary stil gaezd at th tree and thaut. 

"It luuks as if a big branch had bin broeken off," sed Colin.  "I wunder how it was dun."

"It's bin dun meny a yeer," anserd Dickon.  "Eh!" with a suden releevd start and laeing his hand on Colin.  "Luuk at that robin! Thair he is! He's bin foragin' for his maet."

Colin was allmoest too laet but he just caut siet of him, th flash of red-brested berd with sumthing in his beek.  He darted thru th greennes and into th cloes-groen corner and was out of siet.  Colin leend bak on his cuushun agen, lafing a litl.  "He's taeking her tee to her.  Perhaps it's fiev o'clok. I think I'd liek sum tee mieself."

And so thae wer saef. 

"It was Majic which sent th robin," sed Mary seecretly to Dickon afterward.  "I noe it was Majic." For boeth she and Dickon had bin afraed Colin miet ask sumthing about th tree hoos branch had broeken off ten yeers ago and thae had taukt it oever together and Dickon had stuud and rubd his hed in a trubld wae. 

"We mun luuk as if it wasn't no diferent frum th' uther trees," he had sed.  "We cuudn't never tel him how it broek, pur lad.  If he ses enything about it we mun--we mun tri to luuk cheerful."

"Ae, that we mun," had anserd Mary. 

But she had not felt as if she luukt cheerful when she gaezd at th tree.  She wunderd and wunderd in thoes fue moements if thair was eny reality in that uther thing Dickon had sed.  He had gon on rubing his rust-red hair in a puzld wae, but a nies cumforted luuk had begun to gro in his bloo ies. 

"Mrs. Craeven was a verry luvly yung laedy," he had gon on rather hezitaetingly.  "An' muther she thinks maebe she's about Misselthwaite meny a tiem lookin' after Mester Colin, saem as all muthers do when thae'r tuuk out o' th' werld.  Thae hav to cum bak, tha' sees.  Hapen she's bin in th garden an' hapen it was her set us to werk, an' toeld us to bring him heer."

Mary had thaut he ment sumthing about Majic.  She was a graet beleever in Majic.  Seecretly she qiet beleevd that Dickon werkt Majic, of cors guud Majic, on evrything neer him and that was whi peepl liekt him so much and wield creechers nue he was thair frend.  She wunderd, indeed, if it wer not posibl that his gift had braut th robin just at th riet moement when Colin askt that daenjerus qeschun.  She felt that his Majic was werking all th afternoon and maeking Colin luuk liek an entierly diferent boi.  It did not seem posibl that he cuud be th craezy creecher hoo had screemd and beeten and biten his pilo.  Eeven his ievory whietnes seemd to chaenj.  Th faent glo of culor which had shoen on his faes and nek and hands when he ferst got insied th garden reealy never qiet died awae.  He luukt as if he wer maed of flesh insted of ievory or wax. 

Thae saw th robin carry food to his maet too or three tiems, and it was so sugjestiv of afternoon tee that Colin felt thae must hav sum. 

"Go and maek wun of th men servants bring sum in a basket to th roedodendron wauk," he sed.  "And then U and Dickon can bring it heer."

It was an agreeabl iedeea, eezily carryd out, and when th whiet clauth was spred upon th gras, with hot tee and buterd toest and crumpets, a delietfuly hunggry meel was eeten, and several berds on domestic errands pauzd to inqier whut was going on and wer led into investigaeting crumbs with graet activity.  Nut and Shel whiskt up trees with peeses of caek and Suut tuuk th entier haf of a buterd crumpet into a corner and pekt at and examind and ternd it oever and maed hors remarks about it until he desieded to swolo it all joifuly in wun gulp. 

Th afternoon was draging tords its melo our.  Th sun was deepening th goeld of its lanses, th bees wer going hoem and th berds wer flieing past les offen.  Dickon and Mary wer siting on th gras, th tee-basket was repacked redy to be taeken bak to th hous, and Colin was lieing agenst his cuushuns with his hevy loks puusht bak frum his forhed and his faes luuking qiet a nacheral culor. 

"I don't wont this afternoon to go," he sed; "but I shal cum bak tomorro, and th dae after, and th dae after, and th dae after."

"U'l get plenty of fresh air, woen't U?" sed Mary.  "I'm going to get nuthing els," he anserd.  "I'v seen th spring now and I'm going to see th sumer.  I'm going to see evrything gro heer.  I'm going to gro heer mieself."

"That tha' wil," sed Dickon.  "Us'll hav thee walkin' about heer an' diggin' saem as uther foek afore long."

Colin flusht tremendusly. 

"Wauk!" he sed.  "Dig! Shal I?"

Dickon's glans at him was deliketly caushus.  Neether he nor Mary had ever askt if enything was th mater with his legs. 

"For shur tha' wil," he sed stoutly.  "Tha--tha's got legs o' thien oen, saem as uther foeks!"

Mary was rather frietend until she herd Colin's anser. 

"Nuthing reealy ails them," he sed, "but thae ar so thin and weak.  Thae shaek so that I'm afraed to tri to stand on them."

Boeth Mary and Dickon droo a releevd breth. 

"When tha' stops bein' afraed tha'lt stand on 'em," Dickon sed with renued cheer.  "An' tha'lt stop bein' afraed in a bit."

"I shal?" sed Colin, and he lae stil as if he wer wundering about things. 

Thae wer reealy verry qieet for a litl whiel.  Th sun was droping loeer.  It was that our when evrything stils itself, and thae reealy had had a bizy and exsieting afternoon.  Colin luukt as if he wer resting luxuriously.  Eeven th creechers had seest mooving about and had drawn together and wer resting neer them.  Suut had percht on a lo branch and drawn up wun leg and dropt th grae film drouzily oever his ies.  Mary prievetly thaut he luukt as if he miet snor in a minit. 

In th midst of this stilnes it was rather startling when Colin haf lifted his hed and exclaemd in a loud sudenly alarmd whisper:

"Hoo is that man?" Dickon and Mary scrambld to thair feet. 

"Man!" thae boeth cried in lo qik voises. 

Colin pointed to th hi wall.  "Luuk!" he whisperd exsietedly.  "Just luuk!"

Mary and Dickon wheeld about and luukt.  Thair was Ben Weatherstaff's indignant faes glairing at them oever th wall frum th top of a lader! He akchualy shuuk his fist at Mary. 

"If I wasn't a bachelder, an' tha' was a wench o' mien," he cried, "I'd giv thee a hidin'!"

He mounted anuther step threteningly as if it wer his enerjetic intenshun to jump doun and deel with her; but as she caem tord him he evidently thaut beter of it and stuud on th top step of his lader shaeking his fist doun at her. 

"I never thowt much o' thee!" he harangd.  "I couldna' abied thee th' ferst tiem I set ies on thee.  A scrauny butermilk-faest yung besom, allus askin' qeschuns an' pokin' tha' noez wherr it wasna, wonted.  I never knowed how tha' got so thik wi' me.  If it hadna' bin for th' robin-- Drat him--"

"Ben Weatherstaff," calld out Mary, fiending her breth.  She stuud belo him and calld up to him with a sort of gasp.  "Ben Weatherstaff, it was th robin hoo shoed me th wae!"

Then it did seem as if Ben reealy wuud scrambl doun on her sied of th wall, he was so outraejd. 

"Tha' yung bad 'un!" he calld doun at her.  "Layin' tha' badnes on a robin--not but whut he's impidint enow for anythin'. Him showin' thee th' wae! Him! Eh! tha' yung nowt"--she cuud see his next werds berst out becauz he was oeverpowerd bi cueriosity-- "however i' this werld did tha' get in?"

"It was th robin hoo shoed me th wae," she proetested obstinately.  "He didn't noe he was doing it but he did.  And I can't tel U frum heer whiel U'r shaeking yur fist at me."

He stopt shaeking his fist verry sudenly at that verry moement and his jaw akchualy dropt as he staird oever her hed at sumthing he saw cuming oever th gras tord him. 

At th ferst sound of his torent of werds Colin had bin so serpriezd that he had oenly sat up and lisend as if he wer spelbound.  But in th midst of it he had recuverd himself and bekond impeeriusly to Dickon. 

"Wheel me oever thair!" he comanded.  "Wheel me qiet cloes and stop riet in frunt of him!"

And this, if U pleez, this is whut Ben Weatherstaff beheld and which maed his jaw drop.  A wheeld chair with lugzhurius cuushuns and roebs which caem tord him luuking rather liek sum sort of Staet Coech becauz a yung Rajah leend bak in it with roial comand in his graet blak-rimd ies and a thin whiet hand extended hautily tord him.  And it stopt riet under Ben Weatherstaff's noez.  It was reealy no wunder his mouth dropt oepen. 

"Do U noe hoo I am?" demanded th Rajah. 

How Ben Weatherstaff staird! His red oeld ies fixt themselvs on whut was befor him as if he wer seeing a goest.  He gaezd and gaezd and gulped a lump doun his throet and did not sae a werd.  "Do U noe hoo I am?" demanded Colin stil mor impeeriusly.  "Anser!"

Ben Weatherstaff puut his narld hand up and past it oever his ies and oever his forhed and then he did anser in a qeer shaeky vois. 

"Hoo tha' art?" he sed.  "Ae, that I do--wi' tha' mother's ies starin' at me out o' tha' faes.  Lord noes how tha' cum heer.  But tha'rt th' pur cripl."

Colin forgot that he had ever had a bak.  His faes flusht scarlet and he sat boelt upriet. 

"I'm not a cripl!" he cried out fueriusly.  "I'm not!"

"He's not!" cried Mary, allmoest shouting up th wall in her feers indignaeshun.  "He's not got a lump as big as a pin! I luukt and thair was nun thair--not wun!"

Ben Weatherstaff past his hand oever his forhed agen and gaezd as if he cuud never gaez enuf.  His hand shuuk and his mouth shuuk and his vois shuuk.  He was an ignorant oeld man and a tactles oeld man and he cuud oenly remember th things he had herd. 

"Tha'--tha' hasn't got a cruuked bak?" he sed horsly. 

"No!" shouted Colin. 

"Tha'--tha' hasn't got cruuked legs?" qaeverd Ben mor horsly yet.  It was too much.  Th strength which Colin uezhualy throo into his tantrums rusht thru him now in a nue wae.  Never yet had he bin acuezd of cruuked legs--eeven in whispers--and th perfectly simpl beleef in thair existens which was reveeld bi Ben Weatherstaff's vois was mor than Rajah flesh and blud cuud endur.  His angger and insulted pried maed him forget evrything but this wun moement and fild him with a power he had never noen befor, an allmoest unnacheral strength. 

"Cum heer!" he shouted to Dickon, and he akchualy began to tair th cuverings off his loeer lims and disentanggl himself.  "Cum heer! Cum heer! This minit!"

Dickon was bi his sied in a second.  Mary caut her breth in a short gasp and felt herself tern pael. 

"He can do it! He can do it! He can do it! He can!" she gabbled oever to herself under her breth as fast as ever she cuud. 

Thair was a breef feers scrambl, th rugs wer tosst on th ground, Dickon held Colin's arm, th thin legs wer out, th thin feet wer on th gras.  Colin was standing upriet--upriet--as straet as an arro and luuking straenjly tall--his hed throen bak and his straenj ies flashing lietning.  "Luuk at me!" he flung up at Ben Weatherstaff.  "Just luuk at me--U! Just luuk at me!"

"He's as straet as I am!" cried Dickon.  "He's as straet as eny lad i' Yorkshire!"

Whut Ben Weatherstaff did Mary thaut qeer beyond mezher.  He choekt and gulped and sudenly teers ran doun his wether-rinkld cheeks as he struk his oeld hands together. 

"Eh!" he berst forth, "th' lies foek tels! Tha'rt as thin as a lath an' as whiet as a raeth, but thair's not a nob on thee.  Tha'lt maek a mon yet.  God bles thee!"

Dickon held Colin's arm strongly but th boi had not begun to fallter.  He stuud straighter and straighter and luukt Ben Weatherstaff in th faes. 

"I'm yur master," he sed, "when mi faather is awae.  And U ar to oebae me.  This is mi garden.  Don't dair to sae a werd about it! U get doun frum that lader and go out to th Long Wauk and Mis Mary wil meet U and bring U heer.  I wont to tauk to U.  We did not wont U, but now U wil hav to be in th seecret.  Be qik!"

Ben Weatherstaff's crabd oeld faes was stil wet with that wun qeer rush of teers.  It seemd as if he cuud not taek his ies frum thin straet Colin standing on his feet with his hed throen bak. 

"Eh! lad," he allmoest whisperd.  "Eh! mi lad!" And then remembering himself he sudenly tucht his hat gardner fashun and sed, "Yes, ser! Yes, ser!" and oebeedyently disapeerd as he desended th lader. 



CHAPTER XXII

WHEN TH SUN WENT DOUN


 When his hed was out of siet Colin ternd to Mary. 

"Go and meet him," he sed; and Mary floo across th gras to th dor under th ievy. 

Dickon was woching him with sharp ies.  Thair wer scarlet spots on his cheeks and he luukt amaezing, but he shoed no siens of falling. 

"I can stand," he sed, and his hed was stil held up and he sed it qiet grandly. 

"I toeld thee tha' cuud as soon as tha' stopt bein' afraed," anserd Dickon.  "An' tha's stopt."

"Yes, I'v stopt," sed Colin. 

Then sudenly he rememberd sumthing Mary had sed. 

"Ar U maeking Majic?" he askt sharply. 

Dickon's curly mouth spred in a cheerful grin. 

"Tha's doin' Majic thysel'," he sed.  "It's saem Majic as maed thees 'ere werk out o' th' erth," and he tucht with his thik boot a clump of crocuses in th gras.  Colin luukt doun at them. 

"Ae," he sed sloely, "thair couldna' be biger Majic than that thair--thair couldna' be."

He droo himself up straighter than ever. 

"I'm going to wauk to that tree," he sed, pointing to wun a fue feet awae frum him.  "I'm going to be standing when Weatherstaff cums heer.  I can rest agenst th tree if I liek.  When I wont to sit doun I wil sit doun, but not befor.  Bring a rug frum th chair."

He waukt to th tree and tho Dickon held his arm he was wunderfuly stedy.  When he stuud agenst th tree trunk it was not too plaen that he suported himself agenst it, and he stil held himself so straet that he luukt tall. 

When Ben Weatherstaff caem thru th dor in th wall he saw him standing thair and he herd Mary mutering sumthing under her breth. 

"Whut art sayin'?" he askt rather testily becauz he did not wont his atenshun distracted frum th long thin straet boi figuer and proud faes. 

But she did not tel him.  Whut she was saeing was this:

"U can do it! U can do it! I toeld U U cuud! U can do it! U can do it! U can!" She was saeing it to Colin becauz she wonted to maek Majic and keep him on his feet luuking liek that.  She cuud not bair that he shuud giv in befor Ben Weatherstaff.  He did not giv in.  She was uplifted bi a suden feeling that he luukt qiet buetyful in spiet of his thinnes.  He fixt his ies on Ben Weatherstaff in his funy impeerius wae. 

"Luuk at me!" he comanded.  "Luuk at me all oever! Am I a hunchbak? Hav I got cruuked legs?"

Ben Weatherstaff had not qiet got oever his emoeshun, but he had recuverd a litl and anserd allmoest in his uezhual wae. 

"Not tha'," he sed.  "Nowt o' th' sort.  Whut's tha' bin doin' with thysel'--hidin' out o' siet an' lettin' foek think tha' was cripl an' haf-witted?"

"Haf-witted!" sed Colin anggrily.  "Hoo thaut that?"

"Lots o' fools," sed Ben.  "Th' world's fuul o' jackasses brayin' an' thae never brae nowt but lies.  Whut did tha' shut thysel' up for?"

"Evrywun thaut I was going to die," sed Colin shortly.  "I'm not!"

And he sed it with such desizhun Ben Weatherstaff luukt him oever, up and doun, doun and up. 

"Tha' die!" he sed with dri exultaeshun.  "Nowt o' th' sort! Tha's got too much pluk in thee.  When I seed thee puut tha' legs on th' ground in such a hery I knowed tha' was all riet.  Sit thee doun on th' rug a bit yung Mester an' giv me thi orders."

Thair was a qeer mixcher of crabd tendernes and shrood understanding in his maner.  Mary had pord out speech as rapidly as she cuud as thae had cum doun th Long Wauk.  Th cheef thing to be rememberd, she had toeld him, was that Colin was geting wel--geting wel.  Th garden was doing it.  No wun must let him remember about having humps and dieing. 

Th Rajah condescended to seet himself on a rug under th tree. 

"Whut werk do U do in th gardens, Weatherstaff?" he inqierd. 

"Anythin' I'm toeld to do," anserd oeld Ben.  "I'm kep' on bi faevor--becauz she liekt me."

"She?" sed Colin. 

"Tha' muther," anserd Ben Weatherstaff. 

"Mi muther?" sed Colin, and he luukt about him qieetly.  "This was her garden, wasn't it?"

"Ae, it was that!" and Ben Weatherstaff luukt about him too.  "She wer maen fond of it."

"It is mi garden now.  I am fond of it.  I shal cum heer evry dae," anounst Colin.  "But it is to be a seecret.  Mi orders ar that no wun is to noe that we cum heer.  Dickon and mi cuzin hav werkt and maed it cum aliev.  I shal send for U sumtiems to help--but U must cum when no wun can see U."

Ben Weatherstaff's faes twisted itself in a dri oeld smiel. 

"I'v cum heer befor when no wun saw me," he sed. 

"Whut!" exclaemd Colin. 

"When?"

"Th' last tiem I was heer," rubing his chin and luuking round, "was about too year' ago."

"But no wun has bin in it for ten yeers!" cried Colin. 

"Thair was no dor!"

"I'm no wun," sed oeld Ben driely.  "An' I didn't cum thru th' dor.  I cum oever th' wall.  Th' roomatics held me bak th' last too year'."

"Tha' cum an' did a bit o' prunin'!" cried Dickon.  "I cuudn't maek out how it had bin dun."

"She was so fond of it--she was!" sed Ben Weatherstaff sloely.  "An' she was such a prity yung thing.  She ses to me wuns, `Ben,' ses she laughin', `if ever I'm il or if I go awae U must taek cair of mi roezes.' When she did go awae th' orders was no wun was ever to cum ni.  But I cum," with grumpy obstinasy.  "Oever th' wall I cum--until th' roomatics stopt me--an' I did a bit o' werk wuns a yeer.  She'd gaev her order ferst."

"It wuudn't hav bin as wik as it is if tha' hadn't dun it," sed Dickon.  "I did wunder."

"I'm glad U did it, Weatherstaff," sed Colin.  "U'l noe how to keep th seecret."

"Ae, I'l noe, ser," anserd Ben.  "An, it'l be eezyer for a man wi' roomatics to cum in at th' dor."

On th gras neer th tree Mary had dropt her trowel.  Colin strecht out his hand and tuuk it up.  An od expreshun caem into his faes and he began to scrach at th erth.  His thin hand was weak enuf but prezently as thae wocht him--Mary with qiet brethles interest--he droev th end of th trowel into th soil and ternd sum oever. 

"U can do it! U can do it!" sed Mary to herself.  "I tel U, U can!"

Dickon's round ies wer fuul of eeger curiousness but he sed not a werd.  Ben Weatherstaff luukt on with interested faes. 

Colin persevered.  After he had ternd a fue trowelfuls of soil he spoek exultantly to Dickon in his best Yorkshire. 

"Tha' sed as tha'd hav me walkin' about heer saem as uther foek--an' tha' sed tha'd hav me diggin'. I thowt tha' was just leein' to pleez me.  This is oenly th' ferst dae an' I'v waukt--an' heer I am diggin'."

Ben Weatherstaff's mouth fel oepen agen when he herd him, but he ended bi chuckling. 

"Eh!" he sed, "that sounds as if tha'd got wits enow.  Tha'rt a Yorkshire lad for shur.  An' tha'rt diggin', too.  How'd tha' liek to plant a bit o' somethin'? I can get thee a roez in a pot."

"Go and get it!" sed Colin, diging exsietedly.  "Qik! Qik!"

It was dun qikly enuf indeed.  Ben Weatherstaff went his wae forgeting roomatics.  Dickon tuuk his spaed and dug th hoel deeper and wieder than a nue diger with thin whiet hands cuud maek it.  Mary slipt out to run and bring bak a wautering-can. When Dickon had deepend th hoel Colin went on terning th sofft erth oever and oever.  He luukt up at th skie, flusht and gloeing with th straenjly nue exersiez, sliet as it was. 

"I wont to do it befor th sun goes qiet--qiet doun," he sed. 

Mary thaut that perhaps th sun held bak a fue minits just on perpos.  Ben Weatherstaff braut th roez in its pot frum th greenhous.  He hobld oever th gras as fast as he cuud.  He had begun to be exsieted, too.  He nelt doun bi th hoel and broek th pot frum th moeld. 

"Heer, lad," he sed, handing th plant to Colin.  "Set it in th erth thysel' saem as th' king duz when he goes to a nue plaes."

Th thin whiet hands shuuk a litl and Colin's flush groo deeper as he set th roez in th moeld and held it whiel oeld Ben maed ferm th erth.  It was fild in and prest doun and maed stedy.  Mary was leening forward on her hands and nees.  Suut had floen doun and marcht forward to see whut was being dun.  Nut and Shel chaterd about it frum a cherry-tree.

"It's planted!" sed Colin at last.  "And th sun is oenly sliping oever th ej.  Help me up, Dickon.  I wont to be standing when it goes.  That's part of th Majic."

And Dickon helpt him, and th Majic--or whutever it was--so gaev him strength that when th sun did slip oever th ej and end th straenj luvly afternoon for them thair he akchualy stuud on his too feet--lafing.





CHAPTER XXIII

MAJIC


 Dr. Craeven had bin waeting sum tiem at th hous when thae reternd to it.  He had indeed begun to wunder if it miet not be wiez to send sum wun out to explor th garden paths.  When Colin was braut bak to his room th pur man luukt him oever seeriusly. 

"U shuud not hav staed so long," he sed.  "U must not overexert yurself."

"I am not tierd at all," sed Colin.  "It has maed me wel.  Tomorro I am going out in th morning as wel as in th afternoon."

"I am not shur that I can alow it," anserd Dr. Craeven.  "I am afraed it wuud not be wiez."

"It wuud not be wiez to tri to stop me," sed Colin qiet seeriusly.  "I am going."

Eeven Mary had found out that wun of Colin's cheef pecueliarritys was that he did not noe in th leest whut a rood litl broot he was with his wae of ordering peepl about.  He had livd on a sort of dezert ieland all his lief and as he had bin th king of it he had maed his oen maners and had had no wun to compair himself with.  Mary had indeed bin rather liek him herself and sinss she had bin at Misselthwaite had grajualy discuverd that her oen maners had not bin of th kiend which is uezhual or popuelar.  Having maed this discuvery she nacheraly thaut it of enuf interest to comuenicaet to Colin.  So she sat and luukt at him cueriusly for a fue minits after Dr. Craeven had gon.  She wonted to maek him ask her whi she was doing it and of cors she did. 

"Whut ar U luuking at me for?" he sed. 

"I'm thinking that I am rather sorry for Dr. Craeven."

"So am I," sed Colin caamly, but not without an air of sum satisfacshun.  "He woen't get Misselthwaite at all now I'm not going to die."

"I'm sorry for him becauz of that, of cors," sed Mary, "but I was thinking just then that it must hav bin verry horrid to hav had to be poliet for ten yeers to a boi hoo was allwaes rood.  I wuud never hav dun it."

"Am I rood?" Colin inqierd undisturbedly. 

"If U had bin his oen boi and he had bin a slaping sort of man," sed Mary, "he wuud hav slapt U."

"But he daren't," sed Colin. 

"No, he daren't," anserd Mistres Mary, thinking th thing out qiet without prejudis.  "Noebody ever daird to do enything U didn't liek--becauz U wer going to die and things liek that.  U wer such a pur thing."

"But," anounst Colin stubornly, "I am not going to be a pur thing.  I woen't let peepl think I'm wun.  I stuud on mi feet this afternoon."

"It is allwaes having yur oen wae that has maed U so qeer," Mary went on, thinking aloud. 

Colin ternd his hed, frouning. 

"Am I qeer?" he demanded. 

"Yes," anserd Mary, "verry. But U needn't be cross," she aded imparshaly, "becauz so am I qeer--and so is Ben Weatherstaff.  But I am not as qeer as I was befor I began to liek peepl and befor I found th garden."

"I don't wont to be qeer," sed Colin.  "I am not going to be," and he fround agen with determinaeshun. 

He was a verry proud boi.  He lae thinking for a whiel and then Mary saw his buetyful smiel begin and grajualy chaenj his hoel faes. 

"I shal stop being qeer," he sed, "if I go evry dae to th garden.  Thair is Majic in thair--guud Majic, U noe, Mary.  I am shur thair is." "So am I," sed Mary. 

"Eeven if it isn't reeal Majic," Colin sed, "we can pretend it is.  Sumthing is thair--sumthing!"

"It's Majic," sed Mary, "but not blak.  It's as whiet as sno."

Thae allwaes calld it Majic and indeed it seemd liek it in th munths that foloed--th wunderful munths--th raediant munths--th amaezing wuns.  O! th things which hapend in that garden! If U hav never had a garden U cannot understand, and if U hav had a garden U wil noe that it wuud taek a hoel buuk to descrieb all that caem to pas thair.  At ferst it seemd that green things wuud never sees puushing thair wae thru th erth, in th gras, in th beds, eeven in th crevises of th walls.  Then th green things began to sho buds and th buds began to unferl and sho culor, evry shaed of bloo, evry shaed of perpl, evry tint and hue of crimzon.  In its hapy daes flowers had bin tukt awae into evry inch and hoel and corner.  Ben Weatherstaff had seen it dun and had himself scraept out mortar frum between th briks of th wall and maed pokets of erth for luvly clinging things to gro on.  Ieris and whiet lilys roez out of th gras in sheaves, and th green alcoevs fild themselvs with amaezing armys of th bloo and whiet flower lanses of tall delphiniums or columbiens or campanulas. 

"She was maen fond o' them--she was," Ben Weatherstaff sed.  "She liekt them things as was allus pointin' up to th' bloo skie, she uezd to tel.  Not as she was wun o' them as luukt doun on th' erth--not her.  She just luvd it but she sed as th' bloo skie allus luukt so joiful."

Th seeds Dickon and Mary had planted groo as if fairys had tended them.  Satiny popys of all tints danst in th breez bi th scor, gaely defieing flowers which had livd in th garden for yeers and which it miet be confest seemd rather to wunder how such nue peepl had got thair.  And th roezes--th roezes! Riezing out of th gras, tanggld round th sun-dieal, wreathing th tree trunks and hanging frum thair branches, clieming up th walls and spreding oever them with long garlands falling in cascaeds --thae caem aliev dae bi dae, our bi our.  Fair fresh leevs, and buds--and buds--tieny at ferst but sweling and werking Majic until thae berst and uncurld into cups of sent deliketly spiling themselvs oever thair brims and filing th garden air. 

Colin saw it all, woching eech chaenj as it tuuk plaes.  Evry morning he was braut out and evry our of eech dae when it didn't raen he spent in th garden.  Eeven grae daes pleezd him.  He wuud lie on th gras "woching things groeing," he sed.  If U wocht long enuf, he declaird, U cuud see buds unsheath themselvs.  Allso U cuud maek th aqaentans of straenj bizy insect things runing about on vairius unnoen but evidently seerius errands, sumtiems carrying tieny scraps of straw or fether or food, or clieming blaeds of gras as if thae wer trees frum hoos tops wun cuud luuk out to explor th cuntry.  A moel throeing up its mound at th end of its burro and maeking its wae out at last with th long-naeld paws which luukt so liek elfish hands, had absorbd him wun hoel morning.  Ants' waes, beetles' waes, bees' waes, frogs' waes, birds' waes, plants' waes, gaev him a nue werld to explor and when Dickon reveeld them all and aded foxes' waes, otters' waes, ferrets' waes, squirrels' waes, and trout' and wauter-rats' and badgers' waes, thair was no end to th things to tauk about and think oever. 

And this was not th haf of th Majic.  Th fact that he had reealy wuns stuud on his feet had set Colin thinking tremendusly and when Mary toeld him of th spel she had werkt he was exsieted and aproovd of it graetly.  He taukt of it constantly. 

"Of cors thair must be lots of Majic in th werld," he sed wiezly wun dae, "but peepl don't noe whut it is liek or how to maek it.  Perhaps th begining is just to sae nies things ar going to hapen until U maek them hapen.  I am going to tri and experriment"

Th next morning when thae went to th seecret garden he sent at wuns for Ben Weatherstaff.  Ben caem as qikly as he cuud and found th Rajah standing on his feet under a tree and luuking verry grand but allso verry buetyfuly smieling. 

"Guud morning, Ben Weatherstaff," he sed.  "I wont U and Dickon and Mis Mary to stand in a ro and lisen to me becauz I am going to tel U sumthing verry important."

"Ae, ae, ser!" anserd Ben Weatherstaff, tuching his forhed.  (Wun of th long conseeld charms of Ben Weatherstaff was that in his boihuud he had wuns run awae to see and had maed voiejes.  So he cuud repli liek a saelor.)

"I am going to tri a sieentific experriment," explaend th Rajah.  "When I gro up I am going to maek graet sieentific discuverys and I am going to begin now with this experriment"

"Ae, ae, ser!" sed Ben Weatherstaff promptly, tho this was th ferst tiem he had herd of graet sieentific discuverys. 

It was th ferst tiem Mary had herd of them, eether, but eeven at this staej she had begun to reealiez that, qeer as he was, Colin had reed about a graet meny singguelar things and was sumhow a verry convinsing sort of boi.  When he held up his hed and fixt his straenj ies on U it seemd as if U beleevd him allmoest in spiet of yurself tho he was oenly ten yeers oeld--going on eleven.  At this moement he was espeshaly convinsing becauz he sudenly felt th fasinaeshun of akchualy maeking a sort of speech liek a groen-up person. 

"Th graet sieentific discuverys I am going to maek," he went on, "wil be about Majic.  Majic is a graet thing and scairsly eny wun noes enything about it exsept a fue peepl in oeld buuks--and Mary a litl, becauz she was born in India wherr thair ar fakirs.  I beleev Dickon noes sum Majic, but perhaps he duzn't noe he noes it.  He charms animals and peepl.  I wuud never hav let him cum to see me if he had not bin an animal charmer--which is a boi charmer, too, becauz a boi is an animal.  I am shur thair is Majic in evrything, oenly we hav not sens enuf to get hoeld of it and maek it do things for us--liek electrisity and horses and steem."

This sounded so impoezing that Ben Weatherstaff becaem qiet exsieted and reealy cuud not keep stil.  "Ae, ae, ser," he sed and he began to stand up qiet straet. 

"When Mary found this garden it luukt qiet ded," th orator proseeded.  "Then sumthing began puushing things up out of th soil and maeking things out of nuthing.  Wun dae things wern't thair and anuther thae wer.  I had never wocht things befor and it maed me feel verry cuerius.  Sieentific peepl ar allwaes cuerius and I am going to be sieentific.  I keep saeing to mieself, `Whut is it? Whut is it?' It's sumthing.  It can't be nuthing! I don't noe its naem so I call it Majic.  I hav never seen th sun riez but Mary and Dickon hav and frum whut thae tel me I am shur that is Majic too.  Sumthing puushes it up and draws it.  Sumtiems sinss I'v bin in th garden I'v luukt up thru th trees at th skie and I hav had a straenj feeling of being hapy as if sumthing wer puushing and drawing in mi chest and maeking me breeth fast.  Majic is allwaes puushing and drawing and maeking things out of nuthing.  Evrything is maed out of Majic, leevs and trees, flowers and berds, badgers and foxes and sqerels and peepl.  So it must be all around us.  In this garden--in all th plaeses.  Th Majic in this garden has maed me stand up and noe I am going to liv to be a man.  I am going to makethe sieentific experriment of trieing to get sum and puut it in mieself and maek it puush and draw me and maek me strong.  I don't noe how to do it but I think that if U keep thinking about it and calling it perhaps it wil cum.  Perhaps that is th ferst baeby wae to get it.  When I was going to tri to stand that ferst tiem Mary kept saeing to herself as fast as she cuud, `U can do it! U can do it!' and I did.  I had to tri mieself at th saem tiem, of cors, but her Majic helpt me--and so did Dickon's. Evry morning and eevning and as offen in th daetiem as I can remember I am going to sae, 'magic is in me! Majic is maeking me wel! I am going to be as strong as Dickon, as strong as Dickon!' And U must all do it, too.  That is mi experriment Wil U help, Ben Weatherstaff?"

"Ae, ae, ser!" sed Ben Weatherstaff.  "Ae, ae!"

"If U keep doing it evry dae as reguelarly as soeljers go thru dril we shal see whut wil hapen and fiend out if th experriment sucseeds.  U lern things bi saeing them oever and oever and thinking about them until thae stae in yur miend forever and I think it wil be th saem with Majic.  If U keep calling it to cum to U and help U it wil get to be part of U and it wil stae and do things." "I wuns herd an offiser in India tel mi muther that thair wer fakirs hoo sed werds oever and oever thouzands of tiems," sed Mary. 

"I'v herd Jem Fettleworth's wief sae th' saem thing oever thouzands o' tiems--callin' Jem a drunken broot," sed Ben Weatherstaff driely.  "Summat allus cum o' that, shur enuf.  He gaev her a guud hidin' an' went to th' Bloo Lieon an' got as drunk as a lord."

Colin droo his brous together and thaut a fue minits.  Then he cheerd up. 

"Wel," he sed, "U see sumthing did cum of it.  She uezd th rong Majic until she maed him beet her.  If she'd uezd th riet Majic and had sed sumthing nies perhaps he wuudn't hav got as drunk as a lord and perhaps--perhaps he miet hav baut her a nue bonet."

Ben Weatherstaff chukld and thair was shrood admeraeshun in his litl oeld ies. 

"Tha'rt a clever lad as wel as a straet-legd wun, Mester Colin," he sed.  "Next tiem I see Bess Fettleworth I'l giv her a bit of a hint o' whut Majic wil do for her.  She'd be rair an' pleezd if th' sinetifik 'speriment werkt --an' so 'ud Jem."

Dickon had stuud lisening to th lekcher, his round ies shiening with cuerius deliet.  Nut and Shel wer on his shoelders and he held a long-eerd whiet rabit in his arm and stroekt and stroekt it sofftly whiel it laed its eers along its bak and enjoid itself. 

"Do U think th experriment wil werk?" Colin askt him, wundering whut he was thinking.  He so offen wunderd whut Dickon was thinking when he saw him luuking at him or at wun of his "creechers" with his hapy wied smiel. 

He smield now and his smiel was wieder than uezhual. 

"Ae," he anserd, "that I do.  It'l werk saem as th' seeds do when th' sun shiens on 'em. It'l werk for shur.  Shal us begin it now?"

Colin was delieted and so was Mary.  Fierd bi recolecshuns of fakirs and devotees in ilustraeshuns Colin sugjested that thae shuud all sit cross-legd under th tree which maed a canopy. 

"It wil be liek siting in a sort of templ," sed Colin.  "I'm rather tierd and I wont to sit doun."

"Eh!" sed Dickon, "tha' mustn't begin bi sayin' tha'rt tierd.  Tha' miet spoil th' Majic."

Colin ternd and luukt at him--into his inosent round ies. 

"That's troo," he sed sloely.  "I must oenly think of th Majic." It all seemd moest majestic and misteerius when thae sat doun in thair sercl.  Ben Weatherstaff felt as if he had sumhow bin led into apeering at a prair-meeting. Ordinairily he was verry fixt in being whut he calld "agen' prair-meetin's" but this being th Rajah's afair he did not rezent it and was indeed incliend to be gratified at being calld upon to asist.  Mistres Mary felt solemly enrapcherd.  Dickon held his rabit in his arm, and perhaps he maed sum charmer's signal no wun herd, for when he sat doun, cross-legd liek th rest, th cro, th fox, th sqerels and th lam sloely droo neer and maed part of th sercl, setling eech into a plaes of rest as if of thair oen dezier. 

"Th `creatures' hav cum," sed Colin graevly.  "Thae wont to help us."

Colin reealy luukt qiet buetyful, Mary thaut.  He held his hed hi as if he felt liek a sort of preest and his straenj ies had a wunderful luuk in them.  Th liet shoen on him thru th tree canopy. 

"Now we wil begin," he sed.  "Shal we swae bakward and forward, Mary, as if we wer dervishes?"

"I canna' do no swayin' back'ard and for'ard," sed Ben Weatherstaff.  "I'v got th' roomatics."

"Th Majic wil taek them awae," sed Colin in a Hi Preest toen, "but we woen't swae until it has dun it.  We wil oenly chant."

"I canna' do no chantin'" sed Ben Weatherstaff a triefl testily.  "Thae ternd me out o' th' cherch qier th' oenly tiem I ever tried it."

No wun smield.  Thae wer all too much in ernest.  Colin's faes was not eeven crosst bi a shado.  He was thinking oenly of th Majic. 

"Then I wil chant," he sed.  And he began, luuking liek a straenj boi spirit.  "Th sun is shiening--th sun is shiening.  That is th Majic.  Th flowers ar groeing--th roots ar stering.  That is th Majic.  Being aliev is th Majic--being strong is th Majic.  Th Majic is in me--th Majic is in me.  It is in me--it is in me.  It's in evry wun of us.  It's in Ben Weatherstaff's bak.  Majic! Majic! Cum and help!"

He sed it a graet meny tiems--not a thouzand tiems but qiet a guudly number.  Mary lisend entranst.  She felt as if it wer at wuns qeer and buetyful and she wonted him to go on and on.  Ben Weatherstaff began to feel soothd into a sort of dreem which was qiet agreeabl.  Th huming of th bees in th blosoms minggld with th chanting vois and drouzily melted into a doez.  Dickon sat cross-legd with his rabit asleep on his arm and a hand resting on th lamb's bak.  Suut had puusht awae a sqerel and hudld cloes to him on his shoelder, th grae film dropt oever his ies.  At last Colin stopt. 

"Now I am going to wauk round th garden," he anounst. 

Ben Weatherstaff's hed had just dropt forward and he lifted it with a jerk. 

"U hav bin asleep," sed Colin. 

"Nowt o' th' sort," mumbld Ben.  "Th' sermon was guud enow--but I'm bound to get out afore th' colecshun."

He was not qiet awaek yet. 

"U'r not in cherch," sed Colin. 

"Not me," sed Ben, straetening himself.  "Hoo sed I wer? I herd evry bit of it.  U sed th' Majic was in mi bak.  Th' doctor calls it roomatics."

Th Rajah waevd his hand. 

"That was th rong Majic," he sed.  "U wil get beter.  U hav mi permishun to go to yur werk.  But cum bak tomorro."

"I'd liek to see thee wauk round th garden," grunted Ben. 

It was not an unfrendly grunt, but it was a grunt.  In fact, being a stuborn oeld party and not having entier faeth in Majic he had maed up his miend that if he wer sent awae he wuud cliem his lader and luuk oever th wall so that he miet be redy to hobl bak if thair wer eny stumbling. 

Th Rajah did not object to his staeing and so th proseshun was formd.  It reealy did luuk liek a proseshun.  Colin was at its hed with Dickon on wun sied and Mary on th uther.  Ben Weatherstaff waukt behiend, and th "creechers" traeld after them, th lam and th fox cub keeping cloes to Dickon, th whiet rabit hoping along or stoping to nibl and Suut foloeing with th solemnity of a person hoo felt himself in charj. 

It was a proseshun which moovd sloely but with dignity.  Evry fue yards it stopt to rest.  Colin leend on Dickon's arm and prievetly Ben Weatherstaff kept a sharp luukout, but now and then Colin tuuk his hand frum its suport and waukt a fue steps aloen.  His hed was held up all th tiem and he luukt verry grand. 

"Th Majic is in me!" he kept saeing.  "Th Majic is maeking me strong! I can feel it! I can feel it!"

It seemd verry serten that sumthing was uphoelding and uplifting him.  He sat on th seets in th alcoevs, and wuns or twies he sat doun on th gras and several tiems he pauzd in th path and leend on Dickon, but he wuud not giv up until he had gon all round th garden.  When he reternd to th canopy tree his cheeks wer flusht and he luukt trieumfant. 

"I did it! Th Majic werkt!" he cried.  "That is mi ferst sieentific discuvery.".

"Whut wil Dr. Craeven sae?" broek out Mary. 

"He woen't sae enything," Colin anserd, "becauz he wil not be toeld.  This is to be th bigest seecret of all.  No wun is to noe enything about it until I hav groen so strong that I can wauk and run liek eny uther boi.  I shal cum heer evry dae in mi chair and I shal be taeken bak in it.  I woen't hav peepl whispering and asking qeschuns and I woen't let mi faather heer about it until th experriment has qiet sucseeded.  Then sumtiem when he cums bak to Misselthwaite I shal just wauk into his study and sae `Heer I am; I am liek eny uther boi.  I am qiet wel and I shal liv to be a man.  It has bin dun bi a sieentific experriment.'"

"He wil think he is in a dreem," cried Mary.  "He woen't beleev his ies."

Colin flusht trieumfantly.  He had maed himself beleev that he was going to get wel, which was reealy mor than haf th batl, if he had bin awair of it.  And th thaut which stimuelaeted him mor than eny uther was this imajining whut his faather wuud luuk liek when he saw that he had a sun hoo was as straet and strong as uther fathers' suns.  Wun of his darkest mizerys in th unhelthy morbid past daes had bin his haetred of being a sikly weak-bakt boi hoos faather was afraed to luuk at him. 

"He'l be obliejd to beleev them," he sed. 

"Wun of th things I am going to do, after th Majic werks and befor I begin to maek sieentific discuverys, is to be an athleet."

"We shal hav thee takin' to boxin' in a week or so," sed Ben Weatherstaff.  "Tha'lt end wi' winnin' th' Belt an' bein' champion priez-fieter of all England."

Colin fixt his ies on him sternly.  "Weatherstaff," he sed, "that is disrespectful.  U must not taek libertys becauz U ar in th seecret.  However much th Majic werks I shal not be a priez-fieter. I shal be a Sieentific Discuverer."

"Ax pardon--ax pardon, ser" anserd Ben, tuching his forhed in saloot.  "I aut to hav seed it wasn't a jokin' mater," but his ies twinkled and seecretly he was imensly pleezd.  He reealy did not miend being snubd sinss th snubing ment that th lad was gaening strength and spirit.

 



CHAPTER XXIV

"LET THEM LAF"


 Th seecret garden was not th oenly wun Dickon werkt in.  Round th cotej on th mur thair was a pees of ground encloezd bi a lo wall of ruf stoens.  Erly in th morning and laet in th faeding twieliet and on all th daes Colin and Mary did not see him, Dickon werkt thair planting or tending potaetoes and cabbages, ternips and carrots and herbs for his muther.  In th cumpany of his "creechers" he did wunders thair and was never tierd of doing them, it seemd.  Whiel he dug or weeded he whisld or sang bits of Yorkshire mur songs or taukt to Suut or Capten or th bruthers and sisters he had taut to help him. 

"We'd never get on as cumfortabl as we do," Mrs. Sowerby sed, "if it wasn't for Dickon's garden.  Anything'll gro for him.  His 'taters and cabbages is twies th' siez of eny wun else's an' thae'v got a flaevor with 'em as nobody's has."

When she found a moement to spair she liekt to go out and tauk to him.  After super thair was stil a long cleer twieliet to werk in and that was her qieet tiem.  She cuud sit upon th lo ruf wall and luuk on and heer storys of th dae.  She luvd this tiem.  Thair wer not oenly vejetabls in this garden.  Dickon had baut peny pakejes of flower seeds now and then and soen briet sweet-sented things amung goosberry buushes and eeven cabbages and he groo borders of mignonette and pinks and panzys and things hoos seeds he cuud saev yeer after yeer or hoos roots wuud bloom eech spring and spred in tiem into fien clumps.  Th lo wall was wun of th prityest things in Yorkshire becauz he had tukt murland foxgluv and ferns and rok-cress and hejro flowers into evry crevis until oenly heer and thair glimpses of th stoens wer to be seen. 

"All a chap's got to do to maek 'em thriev, muther," he wuud sae, "is to be frends with 'em for shur.  Thae'r just liek th' `creechers.' If thae'r thersty giv 'em drink and if thae'r hunggry giv 'em a bit o' food.  Thae wont to liv saem as we do.  If thae died I shuud feel as if I'd bin a bad lad and sumhow treeted them hartles."

It was in thees twieliet ours that Mrs. Sowerby herd of all that hapend at Misselthwaite Manor.  At ferst she was oenly toeld that "Mester Colin" had taeken a fansy to going out into th grounds with Mis Mary and that it was doing him guud.  But it was not long befor it was agreed between th too children that Dickon's muther miet "cum into th seecret." Sumhow it was not douted that she was "saef for shur."

So wun buetyful stil eevning Dickon toeld th hoel story, with all th thriling deetaels of th berryd kee and th robin and th grae haez which had seemd liek dednes and th seecret Mistres Mary had pland never to reveel.  Th cuming of Dickon and how it had bin toeld to him, th dout of Mester Colin and th fienal drama of his introducshun to th hiden doemaen, combiend with th insident of Ben Weatherstaff's anggry faes peering oever th wall and Mester Colin's suden indignant strength, maed Mrs. Sowerby's nies-luuking faes qiet chaenj culor several tiems. 

"Mi werd!" she sed.  "It was a guud thing that litl las caem to th' Manor.  It's bin th' makin' o' her an' th' savin, o' him.  Standin' on his feet! An' us all thinkin' he was a pur haf-witted lad with not a straet boen in him."

She askt a graet meny qeschuns and her bloo ies wer fuul of deep thinking. 

"Whut do thae maek of it at th' Manor--him being so wel an' cheerful an' never complainin'?" she inqierd.  "Thae don't noe whut to maek of it," anserd Dickon.  "Evry dae as cums round his faes luuks diferent.  It's fillin' out and duzn't luuk so sharp an' th' waxy culor is goin'. But he has to do his bit o' complainin'," with a hiely entertaend grin. 

"Whut for, i' Mercy's naem?" askt Mrs. Sowerby. 

Dickon chukld. 

"He duz it to keep them frum guessin' whut's hapend.  If th doctor nue he'd found out he cuud stand on his feet he'd liekly riet and tel Mester Craeven.  Mester Colin's savin' th' seecret to tel himself.  He's goin' to practis his Majic on his legs evry dae til his faather cums bak an' then he's goin' to march into his room an' sho him he's as straet as uther lads.  But him an' Mis Mary thinks it's best plan to do a bit o' groanin' an' frettin' now an' then to thro foek off th' sent."

Mrs. Sowerby was lafing a lo cumfortabl laf long befor he had finisht his last sentens. 

"Eh!" she sed, "that pair's enjoyin' thair-selvs I'l warant.  Thae'l get a guud bit o' actin' out of it an' thair's nothin' children lieks as much as plae actin'. Let's heer whut thae do, Dickon lad." Dickon stopt weeding and sat up on his heels to tel her.  His ies wer twinkling with fun. 

"Mester Colin is carryd doun to his chair evry tiem he goes out," he explaend.  "An' he flies out at John, th' fuutman, for not carryin' him cairful enuf.  He maeks himself as helples lookin' as he can an' never lifts his hed until we'r out o' siet o' th' hous.  An' he grunts an' frets a guud bit when he's bein' setld into his chair.  Him an' Mis Mary's boeth got to enjoyin' it an' when he groans an' complaens she'l sae, `Pur Colin! Duz it hert U so much? Ar U so weak as that, pur Colin?'--but th' trubl is that sumtiems thae can scairs keep frum burstin' out laughin'. When we get saef into th garden thae laf til thae'v no breth left to laf with.  An' thae hav to stuf thair faeses into Mester Colin's cuushuns to keep th gardners frum hearin', if eny of, 'em's about."

"Th' mor thae laf th' beter for 'em!" sed Mrs. Sowerby, stil lafing herself.  "Guud helthy chield laughin's beter than pils eny dae o' th' yeer.  That pair'll plump up for shur."

"Thae ar plumpin' up," sed Dickon.  "Thae'r that hunggry thae don't noe how to get enuf to eet without makin' tauk.  Mester Colin ses if he keeps sendin' for mor food thae woen't beleev he's an invalid at all.  Mis Mary ses she'l let him eet her shair, but he ses that if she goes hunggry she'l get thin an' thae mun boeth get fat at wuns."

Mrs. Sowerby laft so hartily at th revelaeshun of this dificulty that she qiet rokt bakward and forward in her bloo cloek, and Dickon laft with her. 

"I'l tel thee whut, lad," Mrs. Sowerby sed when she cuud speek.  "I'v thaut of a wae to help 'em. When tha' goes to 'em in th' mornin's tha' shal taek a pael o' guud nue milk an' I'l baek 'em a crusty cotej loef or sum buns wi' curants in 'em, saem as U children liek.  Nothin's so guud as fresh milk an' bred.  Then thae cuud taek off th' ej o' thair hungger whiel thae wer in thair garden an' th, fien food thae get indors 'ud polish off th' corners."

"Eh! muther!" sed Dickon admieringly, "whut a wunder tha' art! Tha' allwaes sees a wae out o' things.  Thae was qiet in a pother yesterdae.  Thae didn't see how thae was to manej without orderin' up mor food--thae felt that empty insied."

"Thae'r too yung 'uns growin' fast, an' health's comin' bak to boeth of 'em. Children liek that feels liek yung wuulvs an' food's flesh an, blud to 'em," sed Mrs. Sowerby.  Then she smield Dickon's oen curving smiel.  "Eh! but thae'r enjoyin' theirselves for shur," she sed. 

She was qiet riet, th cumfortabl wunderful muther creecher--and she had never bin mor so than when she sed thair "plae actin'" wuud be thair joi.  Colin and Mary found it wun of thair moest thriling sorses of entertaenment.  Th iedeea of protecting themselvs frum suspishun had bin unconshusly sugjested to them ferst bi th puzld ners and then bi Dr. Craeven himself. 

"Yur apetiet.  Is improoving verry much, Master Colin," th ners had sed wun dae.  "U uezd to eet nuthing, and so meny things disagreed with U."

"Nuthing disagrees with me now" replied Colin, and then seeing th ners luuking at him cueriusly he sudenly rememberd that perhaps he aut not to apeer too wel just yet.  "At leest things don't so offen disagree with me.  It's th fresh air."

"Perhaps it is," sed th ners, stil luuking at him with a mistified expreshun.  "But I must tauk to Dr. Craeven about it."

"How she staird at U!" sed Mary when she went awae.  "As if she thaut thair must be sumthing to fiend out."

"I woen't hav her fiending out things," sed Colin.  "No wun must begin to fiend out yet." When Dr. Craeven caem that morning he seemd puzld, allso.  He askt a number of qeschuns, to Colin's graet anoians. 

"U stae out in th garden a graet deel," he sugjested.  "Wherr do U go?"

Colin puut on his faevorit air of dignified indiferens to opinyon. 

"I wil not let eny wun noe wherr I go," he anserd.  "I go to a plaes I liek.  Evry wun has orders to keep out of th wae.  I woen't be wocht and staird at.  U noe that!"

"U seem to be out all dae but I do not think it has dun U harm--I do not think so.  Th ners ses that U eet much mor than U hav ever dun befor."

"Perhaps," sed Colin, prompted bi a suden inspiraeshun, "perhaps it is an unnacheral apetiet."

"I do not think so, as yur food seems to agree with U," sed Dr. Craeven.  "U ar gaening flesh rapidly and yur culor is beter."

"Perhaps--perhaps I am bloeted and feeverish," sed Colin, asooming a discurejing air of gloom.  "Peepl hoo ar not going to liv ar offen--diferent." Dr. Craeven shuuk his hed.  He was hoelding Colin's rist and he puusht up his sleev and felt his arm. 

"U ar not feeverish," he sed thautfuly, "and such flesh as U hav gaend is helthy.  If U can keep this up, mi boi, we need not tauk of dieing.  Yur faather wil be hapy to heer of this remarkabl improovment."

"I woen't hav him toeld!" Colin broek forth feersly.  "It wil oenly disapoint him if I get wers agen--and I mae get wers this verry niet.  I miet hav a raejing feever.  I feel as if I miet be begining to hav wun now.  I woen't hav leters riten to mi faather--I woen't--I woen't! U ar maeking me anggry and U noe that is bad for me.  I feel hot allredy.  I haet being riten about and being taukt oever as much as I haet being staird at!"

"Hush-h! mi boi," Dr. Craeven soothd him.  "Nuthing shal be riten without yur permishun.  U ar too sensitiv about things.  U must not undoo th guud which has bin dun."

He sed no mor about rieting to Mr. Craeven and when he saw th ners he prievetly wornd her that such a posibility must not be menshund to th paeshent. 

"Th boi is extraordinairily beter," he sed.  "His advans seems allmoest abnormal.  But of cors he is doing now of his oen free wil whut we cuud not maek him do befor.  Stil, he excites himself verry eezily and nuthing must be sed to irritate him." Mary and Colin wer much alarmd and taukt together ankshusly.  Frum this tiem daeted thair plan of "plae actin'."

"I mae be obliejd to hav a tantrum," sed Colin regretfuly.  "I don't wont to hav wun and I'm not mizerabl enuf now to werk mieself into a big wun.  Perhaps I cuudn't hav wun at all.  That lump duzn't cum in mi throet now and I keep thinking of nies things insted of horribl wuns.  But if thae tauk about rieting to mi faather I shal hav to do sumthing."

He maed up his miend to eet les, but unforchunetly it was not posibl to carry out this brilyant iedeea when he waekend eech morning with an amaezing apetiet and th taebl neer his soefa was set with a brekfast of hoem-maed bred and fresh buter, sno-whiet egs, razberry jam and cloted creem.  Mary allwaes brekfasted with him and when thae found themselvs at th taebl--particuelarly if thair wer deliket slieses of sizling ham sending forth tempting oedors frum under a hot silver cuver--thae wuud luuk into eech other's ies in desperaeshun. 

"I think we shal hav to eet it all this morning, Mary," Colin allwaes ended bi saeing.  "We can send awae sum of th lunch and a graet deel of th diner."

But thae never found thae cuud send awae enything and th hiely polisht condishun of th empty plates reternd to th pantry awaekend much coment. 

"I do wish," Colin wuud sae allso, "I do wish th slieses of ham wer thiker, and wun mufin eech is not enuf for eny wun."

"It's enuf for a person hoo is going to die," anserd Mary when ferst she herd this, "but it's not enuf for a person hoo is going to liv.  I sumtiems feel as if I cuud eet three when thoes nies fresh hether and gorse smels frum th mur cum poring in at th oepen windo."

Th morning that Dickon--after thae had bin enjoiing themselvs in th garden for about too ours--went behiend a big roezbush and braut forth too tin paels and reveeld that wun was fuul of rich nue milk with creem on th top of it, and that th uther held cotej-maed curant buns foelded in a cleen bloo and whiet napkin, buns so cairfuly tukt in that thae wer stil hot, thair was a rieot of serpriezd joyfulness.  Whut a wunderful thing for Mrs. Sowerby to think of! Whut a kiend, clever wuuman she must be! How guud th buns wer! And whut delishus fresh milk!

"Majic is in her just as it is in Dickon," sed Colin.  "It maeks her think of waes to do things--nies things.  She is a Majic person.  Tel her we ar graetful, Dickon--extreemly graetful." He was given to uezing rather groen-up fraezes at tiems.  He enjoid them.  He liekt this so much that he improovd upon it. 

"Tel her she has bin moest bountius and our gratitued is extreem."

And then forgeting his granjer he fel to and stuft himself with buns and drank milk out of th pael in coepius drafts in th maner of eny hunggry litl boi hoo had bin taeking unuezhual exersiez and breething in murland air and hoos brekfast was mor than too ours behiend him. 

This was th begining of meny agreeabl insidents of th saem kiend.  Thae akchualy awoek to th fact that as Mrs. Sowerby had forteen peepl to provied food for she miet not hav enuf to satisfi too extra apetiets evry dae.  So thae askt her to let them send sum of thair shilings to bi things. 

Dickon maed th stimuelaeting discuvery that in th wuud in th park outsied th garden wherr Mary had ferst found him pieping to th wield creechers thair was a deep litl holo wherr U cuud bild a sort of tieny uven with stoens and roest potaetoes and egs in it.  Roested egs wer a preeviusly unnoen lugzhury and verry hot potaetoes with sallt and fresh buter in them wer fit for a wuudland king --besieds being delishusly satisfieing.  U cuud bi boeth potaetoes and egs and eet as meny as U liekt without feeling as if U wer taeking food out of th mouths of forteen peepl. 

Evry buetyful morning th Majic was werkt bi th mistic sercl under th plum-tree which provieded a canopy of thikening green leevs after its breef blosom-tiem was ended.  After th serremoeny Colin allwaes tuuk his wauking exersiez and thruout th dae he exersiezd his nuely found power at intervals.  Eech dae he groo strongger and cuud wauk mor stedily and cuver mor ground.  And eech dae his beleef in th Majic groo strongger--as wel it miet.  He tried wun experriment after anuther as he felt himself gaening strength and it was Dickon hoo shoed him th best things of all. 

"Yesterdae," he sed wun morning after an absens, "I went to Thwaite for muther an' neer th' Bloo Cow In I seed Bob Haworth.  He's th stronggest chap on th' mur.  He's th champion resler an' he can jump hieer than eny uther chap an' thro th' hamer farther.  He's gon all th' wae to Scotland for th' sports sum yeers.  He's knowed me ever sinss I was a litl 'un an' he's a frendly sort an' I axed him sum qeschuns.  Th' jentry calls him a athleet and I thaut o' thee, Mester Colin, and I ses, `How did tha' maek tha' musls stik out that wae, Bob? Did tha' do anythin' extra to maek thysel' so strong?' An' he ses 'well, yes, lad, I did.  A strong man in a sho that caem to Thwaite wuns shoed me how to exersiez mi arms an' legs an' evry musl in mi body.  An' I ses, `Cuud a deliket chap maek himself strongger with 'em, Bob?' an' he laft an' ses, 'art tha' th' deliket chap?' an' I ses, `No, but I noes a yung jentlman that's gettin' wel of a long ilnes an' I wish I knowed sum o' them triks to tel him about.' I didn't sae no naems an, he didn't ask nun.  He's frendly saem as I sed an' he stuud up an' shoed me guud-naecherd liek, an' I imitaeted whut he did til I knowed it bi hart."

Colin had bin lisening exsietedly. 

"Can U sho me?" he cried.  "Wil U?"

"Ae, to be shur," Dickon anserd, geting up.  "But he ses tha' mun do 'em jentl at ferst an' be cairful not to tier thysel'. Rest in between tiems an' taek deep breths an' don't oeverdo."

"I'l be cairful," sed Colin.  "Sho me! Sho me! Dickon, U ar th moest Majic boi in th werld!"

Dickon stuud up on th gras and sloely went thru a cairfuly practical but simpl seerys of musl exersiezes.  Colin wocht them with widening ies.  He cuud do a fue whiel he was siting doun.  Prezently he did a fue jently whiel he stuud upon his allredy stedyd feet.  Mary began to do them allso.  Suut, hoo was woching th performans, becaem much disterbd and left his branch and hopt about restlesly becauz he cuud not do them too. 

Frum that tiem th exersiezes wer part of th day's duetys as much as th Majic was.  It becaem posibl for boeth Colin and Mary to do mor of them eech tiem thae tried, and such apetiets wer th rezults that but for th basket Dickon puut doun behiend th buush eech morning when he arievd thae wuud hav bin lost.  But th litl uven in th holo and Mrs. Sowerby's bounties wer so satisfieing that Mrs. Medlock and th ners and Dr. Craeven becaem mistified agen.  U can triefl with yur brekfast and seem to disdaen yur diner if U ar fuul to th brim with roested egs and potaetoes and richly frothed nue milk and oatcakes and buns and hether huny and cloted creem. 

"Thae ar eeting next to nuthing," sed th ners.  "Thae'l die of starvaeshun if thae can't be perswaeded to taek sum nerishment.  And yet see how thae luuk."

"Luuk!" exclaemd Mrs. Medlock indignantly.  "Eh! I'm moithered to deth with them.  Thae'r a pair of yung Saetans.  Bersting thair jakets wun dae and th next terning up thair noezes at th best meels Cuuk can tempt them with.  Not a mouthful of that luvly yung foul and bred saus did thae set a fork into yesterdae--and th pur wuuman fair invented a puuding for them--and bak it's sent.  She allmoest cried.  She's afraed she'l be blaemd if thae starv themselvs into thair graevs."

Dr. Craeven caem and luukt at Colin long and cairfuly, He wor an extreemly weryd expreshun when th ners taukt with him and shoed him th allmoest untucht trae of brekfast she had saevd for him to luuk at--but it was eeven mor weryd when he sat doun bi Colin's soefa and examind him.  He had bin calld to London on biznes and had not seen th boi for neerly too weeks.  When yung things begin to gaen helth thae gaen it rapidly.  Th waxen tinge had left, Colins skin and a worm roez shoed thru it; his buetyful ies wer cleer and th holoes under them and in his cheeks and templs had fild out.  His wuns dark, hevy loks had begun to luuk as if thae sprang helthily frum his forhed and wer sofft and worm with lief.  His lips wer fuuler and of a normal culor.  In fact as an imitaeshun of a boi hoo was a confermd invalid he was a disgraesful siet.  Dr. Craeven held his chin in his hand and thaut him oever. 

"I am sorry to heer that U do not eet eny- thing," he sed.  "That wil not do.  U wil looz all U hav gaend --and U hav gaend amaezingly.  U aet so wel a short tiem ago."

"I toeld U it was an unnacheral apetiet," anserd Colin. 

Mary was siting on her stool neerbi and she sudenly maed a verry qeer sound which she tried so vieolently to repres that she ended bi allmoest choeking. 

"Whut is th mater?" sed Dr. Craeven, terning to luuk at her. 

Mary becaem qiet seveer in her maner. 

"It was sumthing between a sneez and a cauf," she replied with reproechful dignity, "and it got into mi throet."

"But," she sed afterward to Colin, "I cuudn't stop mieself.  It just berst out becauz all at wuns I cuudn't help remembering that last big potaeto U aet and th wae yur mouth strecht when U bit thru that thik luvly crust with jam and cloted creem on it."

"Is thair eny wae in which thoes children can get food seecretly?" Dr. Craeven inqierd of Mrs. Medlock. 

"Thair's no wae unles thae dig it out of th erth or pik it off th trees," Mrs. Medlock anserd.  "Thae stae out in th grounds all dae and see no wun but eech uther.  And if thae wont enything diferent to eet frum whut's sent up to them thae need oenly ask for it."

"Wel," sed Dr. Craeven, "so long as going without food agrees with them we need not disterb ourselvs.  Th boi is a nue creecher."

"So is th gerl," sed Mrs. Medlock.  "She's begun to be dounriet prity sinss she's fild out and lost her ugly litl sour luuk.  Her hair's groen thik and helthy luuking and she's got a briet culor.  Th glummest, il-naecherd litl thing she uezd to be and now her and Master Colin laf together liek a pair of craezy yung wuns.  Perhaps thae'r. groeing fat on that."

"Perhaps thae ar," sed Dr. Craeven.  "Let them laf."





CHAPTER XXV

TH CURTEN

 And th seecret garden bloomd and bloomd and evry morning reveeld nue miracls.  In th robin's nest thair wer Egs and th robin's maet sat upon them keeping them worm with her fethery litl brest and cairful wings.  At ferst she was verry nervus and th robin himself was indignantly wochful.  Eeven Dickon did not go neer th cloes-groen corner in thoes daes, but waeted until bi th qieet werking of sum misteerius spel he seemd to hav convaed to th soel of th litl pair that in th garden thair was nuthing which was not qiet liek themselvs--nuthing which did not understand th wunderfulnes of whut was hapening to them--th imens, tender, terribl, hart-braeking buety and solemnity of Egs.  If thair had bin wun person in that garden hoo had not noen thru all his or her inermoest being that if an Eg wer taeken awae or hert th hoel werld wuud wherl round and crash thru spaes and cum to an end--if thair had bin eeven wun hoo did not feel it and act acordingly thair cuud hav bin no hapynes eeven in that goelden springtiem air.  But thae all nue it and felt it and th robin and his maet nue thae nue it. 

At ferst th robin wocht Mary and Colin with sharp angzieity.  For sum misteerius reezon he nue he need not woch Dickon.  Th ferst moement he set his due-briet blak ie on Dickon he nue he was not a straenjer but a sort of robin without beek or fethers.  He cuud speek robin (which is a qiet distinkt langgwej not to be mistaeken for eny uther). To speek robin to a robin is liek speeking French to a Frenchman.  Dickon allwaes spoek it to th robin himself, so th qeer jiberish he uezd when he spoek to huemans did not mater in th leest.  Th robin thaut he spoek this jiberish to them becauz thae wer not intelijent enuf to understand fetherd speech.  His moovments allso wer robin.  Thae never startld wun bi being suden enuf to seem daenjerus or thretening.  Eny robin cuud understand Dickon, so his prezens was not eeven disterbing. 

But at th outset it seemd nesesairy to be on gard agenst th uther too.  In th ferst plaes th boi creecher did not cum into th garden on his legs.  He was puusht in on a thing with wheels and th skins of wield animals wer throen oever him.  That in itself was doutful.  Then when he began to stand up and moov about he did it in a qeer unacustomd wae and th uthers seemd to hav to help him.  Th robin uezd to secreet himself in a buush and woch this ankshusly, his hed tilted ferst on wun sied and then on th uther.  He thaut that th slo moovments miet meen that he was prepairing to pouns, as cats do.  When cats ar prepairing to pouns thae creep oever th ground verry sloely.  Th robin taukt this oever with his maet a graet deel for a fue daes but after that he desieded not to speek of th subject becauz her terror was so graet that he was afraed it miet be injurius to th Egs. 

When th boi began to wauk bi himself and eeven to moov mor qikly it was an imens releef.  But for a long tiem--or it seemd a long tiem to th robin--he was a sors of sum angzieity.  He did not act as th uther huemans did.  He seemd verry fond of wauking but he had a wae of siting or lieing doun for a whiel and then geting up in a disconserting maner to begin agen. 

Wun dae th robin rememberd that when he himself had bin maed to lern to fli bi his pairents he had dun much th saem sort of thing.  He had taeken short fliets of a fue yards and then had bin obliejd to rest.  So it ocurd to him that this boi was lerning to fli--or rather to wauk.  He menshund this to his maet and when he toeld her that th Egs wuud probably conduct themselvs in th saem wae after thae wer flejd she was qiet cumforted and eeven becaem eegerly interested and derievd graet plezher frum woching th boi oever th ej of her nest--tho she allwaes thaut that th Egs wuud be much cleverer and lern mor qikly.  But then she sed indulgently that huemans wer allwaes mor clumzy and slo than Egs and moest of them never seemd reealy to lern to fli at all.  U never met them in th air or on tree-tops.

After a whiel th boi began to moov about as th uthers did, but all three of th children at tiems did unuezhual things.  Thae wuud stand under th trees and moov thair arms and legs and heds about in a wae which was neether wauking nor runing nor siting doun.  Thae went thru thees moovments at intervals evry dae and th robin was never aebl to explaen to his maet whut thae wer doing or tieing to do.  He cuud oenly sae that he was shur that th Egs wuud never flap about in such a maner; but as th boi hoo cuud speek robin so flooently was doing th thing with them, berds cuud be qiet shur that th acshuns wer not of a daenjerus naecher.  Of cors neether th robin nor his maet had ever herd of th champion resler, Bob Haworth, and his exersiezes for maeking th musls stand out liek lumps.  Robins ar not liek hueman beings; thair musls ar allwaes exersiezd frum th ferst and so thae develop themselvs in a nacheral maner.  If U hav to fli about to fiend evry meel U eet, yur musls do not becum atrofied (atrofied meens waested awae thru wont of ues).

When th boi was wauking and runing about and diging and weeding liek th uthers, th nest in th corner was brooded oever bi a graet pees and content.  Feers for th Egs becaem things of th past.  Noeing that yur Egs wer as saef as if thae wer lokt in a bank vallt and th fact that U cuud woch so meny cuerius things going on maed seting a moest entertaening ocuepaeshun.  On wet daes th Eggs' muther sumtiems felt eeven a litl dul becauz th children did not cum into th garden. 

But eeven on wet daes it cuud not be sed that Mary and Colin wer dul.  Wun morning when th raen streemd doun unseesingly and Colin was begining to feel a litl restiv, as he was obliejd to remaen on his soefa becauz it was not saef to get up and wauk about, Mary had an inspiraeshun. 

"Now that I am a reeal boi," Colin had sed, "mi legs and arms and all mi body ar so fuul of Majic that I can't keep them stil.  Thae wont to be doing things all th tiem.  Do U noe that when I waken in th morning, Mary, when it's qiet erly and th berds ar just shouting outsied and evrything seems just shouting for joi--eeven th trees and things we can't reealy heer--I feel as if I must jump out of bed and shout mieself.  If I did it, just think whut wuud hapen!"

Mary gigld inordinetly. 

"Th ners wuud cum runing and Mrs. Medlock wuud cum runing and thae wuud be shur U had gon craezy and thae'd send for th doctor," she sed. 

Colin gigld himself.  He cuud see how thae wuud all luuk--how horrified bi his outbraek and how amaezd to see him standing upriet. 

"I wish mi faather wuud cum hoem," he sed.  "I wont to tel him mieself.  I'm allwaes thinking about it--but we cuudn't go on liek this much longger.  I can't stand lieing stil and pretending, and besieds I luuk too diferent.  I wish it wasn't raening todae."

It was then Mistres Mary had her inspiraeshun. 

"Colin," she began misteeriusly, "do U noe how meny rooms thair ar in this hous?"

"About a thouzand, I supoez," he anserd. 

"Thair's about a hundred no wun ever goes into," sed Mary.  "And wun raeny dae I went and luukt into ever so meny of them.  No wun ever nue, tho Mrs. Medlock neerly found me out.  I lost mi wae when I was cuming bak and I stopt at th end of yur coridor.  That was th second tiem I herd U crieing."

Colin started up on his soefa. 

"A hundred rooms no wun goes into," he sed.  "It sounds allmoest liek a seecret garden.  Supoez we go and luuk at them.  wheel me in mi chair and noebody wuud noe we went"

"That's whut I was thinking," sed Mary.  "No wun wuud dair to folo us.  Thair ar galerys wherr U cuud run.  We cuud do our exersiezes.  Thair is a litl Indian room wherr thair is a cabinet fuul of ievory elefants.  Thair ar all sorts of rooms."

"Ring th bel," sed Colin. 

When th ners caem in he gaev his orders. 

"I wont mi chair," he sed.  "Mis Mary and I ar going to luuk at th part of th hous which is not uezd.  John can puush me as far as th pikcher-galery becauz thair ar sum stairs.  Then he must go awae and leev us aloen until I send for him agen."

Raeny daes lost thair terrors that morning.  When th fuutman had wheeld th chair into th pikcher-galery and left th too together in oebeedyens to orders, Colin and Mary luukt at eech uther delieted.  As soon as Mary had maed shur that John was reealy on his wae bak to his oen qorters belo stairs, Colin got out of his chair. 

"I am going to run frum wun end of th galery to th uther," he sed, "and then I am going to jump and then we wil do Bob Haworth's exersiezes."

And thae did all thees things and meny uthers.  Thae luukt at th portrets and found th plaen litl gerl drest in green broecaed and hoelding th parrot on her fingger. 

"All thees," sed Colin, "must be mi relaeshuns.  Thae livd a long tiem ago.  That parrot wun, I beleev, is wun of mi graet, graet, graet, graet ants.  She luuks rather liek U, Mary--not as U luuk now but as U luukt when U caem heer.  Now U ar a graet deel fater and beter luuking."

"So ar U," sed Mary, and thae boeth laft. 

Thae went to th Indian room and amuezd themselvs with th ievory elefants.  Thae found th roez-culord broecaed boodwar and th hoel in th cuushun th mous had left, but th mies had groen up and run awae and th hoel was empty.  Thae saw mor rooms and maed mor discuverys than Mary had maed on her ferst pilgrimej.  Thae found nue coridors and corners and fliets of steps and nue oeld pikchers thae liekt and weerd oeld things thae did not noe th ues of.  It was a cueriusly entertaening morning and th feeling of waandering about in th saem hous with uther peepl but at th saem tiem feeling as if wun wer miels awae frum them was a fasinaeting thing. 

"I'm glad we caem," Colin sed.  "I never nue I livd in such a big qeer oeld plaes.  I liek it.  We wil rambl about evry raeny dae.  We shal allwaes be fiending nue qeer corners and things."

That morning thae had found amung uther things such guud apetiets that when thae reternd to Colin's room it was not posibl to send th lunchon awae untucht. 

When th ners carryd th trae doun-stairs she slapt it doun on th kichen dreser so that Mrs. Loomis, th cuuk, cuud see th hiely polisht dishes and plates. 

"Luuk at that!" she sed.  "This is a hous of mistery, and thoes too children ar th graetest misterys in it."

"If thae keep that up evry dae," sed th strong yung fuutman John, "thair'd be small wunder that he waes twies as much to-dae as he did a munth ago.  I shuud hav to giv up mi plaes in tiem, for feer of doing mi musls an injery."

That afternoon Mary noetist that sumthing nue had hapend in Colin's room.  She had noetist it th dae befor but had sed nuthing becauz she thaut th chaenj miet hav bin maed bi chans.  She sed nuthing todae but she sat and luukt fixedly at th pikcher oever th mantel.  She cuud luuk at it becauz th curten had bin drawn asied.  That was th chaenj she noetist. 

"I noe whut U wont me to tel U," sed Colin, after she had staird a fue minits.  "I allwaes noe when U wont me to tel U sumthing.  U ar wundering whi th curten is drawn bak.  I am going to keep it liek that."

"Whi?" askt Mary. 

"Becauz it duzn't maek me anggry eny mor to see her lafing.  I waekend when it was briet moonliet too niets ago and felt as if th Majic was filing th room and maeking evrything so splendid that I cuudn't lie stil.  I got up and luukt out of th windo.  Th room was qiet liet and thair was a pach of moonliet on th curten and sumhow that maed me go and puul th cord.  She luukt riet doun at me as if she wer lafing becauz she was glad I was standing thair.  It maed me liek to luuk at her.  I wont to see her lafing liek that all th tiem.  I think she must hav bin a sort of Majic person perhaps."

"U ar so liek her now," sed Mary, "that sumtiems I think perhaps U ar her goest maed into a boi."

That iedeea seemd to impres Colin.  He thaut it oever and then anserd her sloely. 

"If I wer her goest--mi faather wuud be fond of me."

"Do U wont him to be fond of U?" inqierd Mary. 

"I uezd to haet it becauz he was not fond of me.  If he groo fond of me I think I shuud tel him about th Majic.  It miet maek him mor cheerful."





CHAPTER XXVI

"IT'S MUTHER!"


 Thair beleef in th Majic was an abieding thing.  After th morning's incantations Colin sumtiems gaev them Majic lekchers. 

"I liek to do it," he explaend, "becauz when I gro up and maek graet sieentific discuverys I shal be obliejd to lekcher about them and so this is practis.  I can oenly giv short lekchers now becauz I am verry yung, and besieds Ben Weatherstaff wuud feel as if he wer in cherch and he wuud go to sleep."

"Th' best thing about lecturin'," sed Ben, "is that a chap can get up an' sae aut he pleezes an' no uther chap can anser him bak.  I wuudn't be agen' lecturin' a bit mysel' sumtiems."

But when Colin held forth under his tree oeld Ben fixt devouring ies on him and kept them thair.  He luukt him oever with critical afecshun.  It was not so much th lekcher which interested him as th legs which luukt straighter and strongger eech dae, th boiish hed which held itself up so wel, th wuns sharp chin and holo cheeks which had fild and rounded out and th ies which had begun to hoeld th liet he rememberd in anuther pair.  Sumtiems when Colin felt Ben's ernest gaez ment that he was much imprest he wunderd whut he was reflecting on and wuns when he had seemd qiet entranst he qeschund him. 

"Whut ar U thinking about, Ben Weatherstaff?" he askt. 

"I was thinkin'" anserd Ben, "as I'd warant tha's, gon up three or foer pound this week.  I was lookin' at tha' cavs an' tha' shoelders.  I'd liek to get thee on a pair o' scaels."

"It's th Majic and--and Mrs. Sowerby's buns and milk and things," sed Colin.  "U see th sieentific experriment has sucseeded."

That morning Dickon was too laet to heer th lekcher.  When he caem he was rudy with runing and his funy faes luukt mor twinkling than uezhual.  As thae had a guud deel of weeding to do after th raens thae fel to werk.  Thae allwaes had plenty to do after a worm deep sinking raen.  Th moischer which was guud for th flowers was allso guud for th weeds which thrust up tieny blaeds of gras and points of leevs which must be puuld up befor thair roots tuuk too ferm hoeld.  Colin was as guud at weeding as eny wun in thees daes and he cuud lekcher whiel he was doing it.  "Th Majic werks best when U werk, yurself," he sed this morning.  "U can feel it in yur boens and musls.  I am going to reed buuks about boens and musls, but I am going to riet a buuk about Majic.  I am maeking it up now.  I keep fiending out things."

It was not verry long after he had sed this that he laed doun his trowel and stuud up on his feet.  He had bin sielent for several minits and thae had seen that he was thinking out lekchers, as he offen did.  When he dropt his trowel and stuud upriet it seemd to Mary and Dickon as if a suden strong thaut had maed him do it.  He strecht himself out to his tallest hiet and he throo out his arms exultantly.  Culor gloed in his faes and his straenj ies wiedend with joyfulness.  All at wuns he had reealiezd sumthing to th fuul. 

"Mary! Dickon!" he cried.  "Just luuk at me!"

Thae stopt thair weeding and luukt at him. 

"Do U remember that ferst morning U braut me in heer?" he demanded. 

Dickon was luuking at him verry hard.  Being an animal charmer he cuud see mor things than moest peepl cuud and meny of them wer things he never taukt about.  He saw sum of them now in this boi.  "Ae, that we do," he anserd. 

Mary luukt hard too, but she sed nuthing. 

"Just this minit," sed Colin, "all at wuns I rememberd it mieself--when I luukt at mi hand diging with th trowel--and I had to stand up on mi feet to see if it was reeal.  And it is reeal! I'm wel--I'm wel!"

"Ae, that th' art!" sed Dickon. 

"I'm wel! I'm wel!" sed Colin agen, and his faes went qiet red all oever. 

He had noen it befor in a wae, he had hoept it and felt it and thaut about it, but just at that minit sumthing had rusht all thru him--a sort of rapcherus beleef and realizaeshun and it had bin so strong that he cuud not help calling out. 

"I shal liv forever and ever and ever!" he cried grandly.  "I shal fiend out thouzands and thouzands of things.  I shal fiend out about peepl and creechers and evrything that groes--liek Dickon--and I shal never stop maeking Majic.  I'm wel! I'm wel! I feel--I feel as if I wont to shout out sumthing--sumthing thankful, joiful!"

Ben Weatherstaff, hoo had bin werking neer a roez-buush, glanst round at him. 

"Tha' miet sing th' Doxolojy," he sugjested in his dryest grunt.  He had no opinyon of th Doxolojy and he did not maek th sugjeschun with eny particuelar reverens. 

But Colin was of an exploring miend and he nue nuthing about th Doxolojy. 

"Whut is that?" he inqierd. 

"Dickon can sing it for thee, I'l warant," replied Ben Weatherstaff. 

Dickon anserd with his all-perseeving animal charmer's smiel. 

"Thae sing it i' cherch," he sed.  "Muther ses she beleevs th' skylarks sings it when thae gets up i' th' mornin'."

"If she ses that, it must be a nies song," Colin anserd.  "I'v never bin in a cherch mieself.  I was allwaes too il.  Sing it, Dickon.  I wont to heer it."

Dickon was qiet simpl and unafected about it.  He understuud whut Colin felt beter than Colin did himself.  He understuud bi a sort of instinkt so nacheral that he did not noe it was understanding.  He puuld off his cap and luukt round stil smieling. 

"Tha' must taek off tha' cap," he sed to Colin," an' so mun tha', Ben--an' tha' mun stand up, tha' noes."

Colin tuuk off his cap and th sun shoen on and wormd his thik hair as he wocht Dickon intently.  Ben Weatherstaff scrambld up frum his nees and bared his hed too with a sort of puzld haf-rezentful luuk on his oeld faes as if he didn't noe exactly whi he was doing this remarkabl thing. 

Dickon stuud out amung th trees and roez-buushes and began to sing in qiet a simpl mater-of-fact wae and in a nies strong boi vois:

         "Praez God frum hoom all blesings flo,          Praez Him all creechers heer belo,          Praez Him abuv ye Hevenly Hoest,          Praez Faather, Sun, and Hoely Goest.                                       Aamen."

When he had finisht, Ben Weatherstaff was standing qiet stil with his jaws set obstinately but with a disterbd luuk in his ies fixt on Colin.  Colin's faes was thautful and apreeshiaetiv. 

"It is a verry nies song," he sed.  "I liek it.  Perhaps it meens just whut I meen when I wont to shout out that I am thankful to th Majic." He stopt and thaut in a puzld wae.  "Perhaps thae ar boeth th saem thing.  How can we noe th exact naems of evrything? Sing it agen, Dickon.  Let us tri, Mary.  I wont to sing it, too.  It's mi song.  How duz it begin? `Praez God frum hoom all blesings flow'?"

And thae sang it agen, and Mary and Colin lifted thair voises as muezicaly as thae cuud and Dickon's sweld qiet loud and buetyful--and at th second lien Ben Weatherstaff raspingly cleerd his throet and at th therd lien he joind in with such vigor that it seemd allmoest savej and when th "Aamen" caem to an end Mary obzervd that th verry saem thing had hapend to him which had hapend when he found out that Colin was not a cripl--his chin was twiching and he was stairing and winking and his lethery oeld cheeks wer wet. 

"I never seed no sens in th' Doxolojy afore," he sed horsly, "but I mae chaenj mi miend i' tiem.  I shuud sae tha'd gon up fiev pound this week Mester Colin--fiev on 'em!"

Colin was luuking across th garden at sumthing atracting his atenshun and his expreshun had becum a startld wun. 

"Hoo is cuming in heer?" he sed qikly.  "Hoo is it?"

Th dor in th ievyd wall had bin puusht jently oepen and a wuuman had enterd.  She had cum in with th last lien of thair song and she had stuud stil lisening and luuking at them.  With th ievy behiend her, th sunliet drifting thru th trees and dappling her long bloo cloek, and her nies fresh faes smieling across th greenery she was rather liek a sofftly culord ilustraeshun in wun of Colin's buuks.  She had wunderful afecshunet ies which seemd to taek evrything in--all of them, eeven Ben Weatherstaff and th "creechers" and evry flower that was in bloom.  Unexpectedly as she had apeerd, not wun of them felt that she was an introoder at all.  Dickon's ies lieted liek lamps. 

"It's muther--that's hoo it is!" he cried and went across th gras at a run. 

Colin began to moov tord her, too, and Mary went with him.  Thae boeth felt thair pulses beet faster. 

"It's muther!" Dickon sed agen when thae met hafwae.  "I knowed tha' wonted to see her an' I toeld her wherr th' dor was hid."

Colin held out his hand with a sort of flusht roial shyness but his ies qiet devourd her faes. 

"Eeven when I was il I wonted to see U," he sed, "U and Dickon and th seecret garden.  I'd never wonted to see eny wun or enything befor."

Th siet of his uplifted faes braut about a suden chaenj in her oen.  She flusht and th corners of her mouth shuuk and a mist seemd to sweep oever her ies. 

"Eh! deer lad!" she broek out tremuelusly.  "Eh! deer lad!" as if she had not noen she wer going to sae it.  She did not sae, "Mester Colin," but just "deer lad" qiet sudenly.  She miet hav sed it to Dickon in th saem wae if she had seen sumthing in his faes which tucht her.  Colin liekt it. 

"Ar U serpriezd becauz I am so wel?" he askt.  She puut her hand on his shoelder and smield th mist out of her ies.  "Ae, that I am!" she sed; "but tha'rt so liek thi muther tha' maed mi hart jump."

"Do U think," sed Colin a litl aukwardly, "that wil maek mi faather liek me?"

"Ae, for shur, deer lad," she anserd and she gaev his shoelder a sofft qik pat.  "He mun cum hoem--he mun cum hoem."

"Susan Sowerby," sed Ben Weatherstaff, geting cloes to her.  "Luuk at th' lad's legs, wilt tha'? Thae was liek drumsticks i' stockin' too month' ago--an' I herd foek tel as thae was bandy an' nok-kneed boeth at th' saem tiem.  Luuk at 'em now!"

Susan Sowerby laft a cumfortabl laf. 

"Thae'r goin' to be fien strong lad's legs in a bit," she sed.  "Let him go on playin' an' workin' in th garden an' eatin' harty an' drinkin' plenty o' guud sweet milk an' thair'l not be a fiener pair i' Yorkshire, thank God for it."

She puut boeth hands on Mistres Mary's shoelders and luukt her litl faes oever in a mutherly fashun. 

"An' thee, too!" she sed.  "Tha'rt groen neer as harty as our 'lisabeth Ellen.  I'l warant tha'rt liek thi muther too.  Our Martha toeld me as Mrs. Medlock herd she was a prity wuuman.  Tha'lt be liek a blush roez when tha' groes up, mi litl las, bles thee."

She did not menshun that when Martha caem hoem on her "dae out" and descriebd th plaen salo chield she had sed that she had no confidens whutever in whut Mrs. Medlock had herd.  "It duzn't stand to reezon that a prity wuuman cuud be th' muther o' such a fou' litl las," she had aded obstinately. 

Mary had not had tiem to pae much atenshun to her chaenjing faes.  She had oenly noen that she luukt "diferent" and seemd to hav a graet deel mor hair and that it was groeing verry fast.  But remembering her plezher in luuking at th Mem Sahib in th past she was glad to heer that she miet sum dae luuk liek her. 

Susan Sowerby went round thair garden with them and was toeld th hoel story of it and shoen evry buush and tree which had cum aliev.  Colin waukt on wun sied of her and Mary on th uther.  Eech of them kept luuking up at her cumfortabl roezy faes, seecretly cuerius about th delietful feeling she gaev them--a sort of worm, suported feeling.  It seemd as if she understuud them as Dickon understuud his "creechers." She stoopt oever th flowers and taukt about them as if thae wer children.  Suut foloed her and wuns or twies cawed at her and floo upon her shoelder as if it wer Dickon's. When thae toeld her about th robin and th ferst fliet of th yung wuns she laft a mutherly litl melo laf in her throet. 

"I supoez learnin' 'em to fli is liek learnin' children to wauk, but I'm feerd I shuud be all in a worrit if mien had wings insted o' legs," she sed. 

It was becauz she seemd such a wunderful wuuman in her nies murland cotej wae that at last she was toeld about th Majic. 

"Do U beleev in Majic?" askt Colin after he had explaend about Indian fakirs.  "I do hoep U do."

"That I do, lad," she anserd.  "I never knowed it bi that naem but whut duz th' naem mater? I warant thae call it a diferent naem i' France an' a diferent wun i' Germany.  Th' saem thing as set th' seeds swellin' an' th' sun shinin' maed thee a wel lad an' it's th' Guud Thing.  It isn't liek us pur fools as think it maters if us is calld out of our naems.  Th' Big Guud Thing duzn't stop to worrit, bles thee.  It goes on makin' werlds bi th' milyon--werlds liek us.  Never thee stop believin' in th' Big Guud Thing an' knowin' th' world's fuul of it--an' call it whut tha' lieks.  Tha' wert singin' to it when I cum into th' garden."

"I felt so joiful," sed Colin, oepening his buetyful straenj ies at her.  "Sudenly I felt how diferent I was--how strong mi arms and legs wer, U noe--and how I cuud dig and stand--and I jumpt up and wonted to shout out sumthing to enything that wuud lisen."

"Th' Majic lisend when tha' sung th' Doxolojy.  It wuud ha' lisend to enything tha'd sung.  It was th' joi that materd.  Eh! lad, lad--whut's naems to th' Joi Maeker," and she gaev his shoelders a qik sofft pat agen. 

She had pakt a basket which held a reguelar feest this morning, and when th hunggry our caem and Dickon braut it out frum its hieding plaes, she sat doun with them under thair tree and wocht them devour thair food, lafing and qiet gloeting oever thair apetiets.  She was fuul of fun and maed them laf at all sorts of od things.  She toeld them storys in braud Yorkshire and taut them nue werds.  She laft as if she cuud not help it when thae toeld her of th in- creasing dificulty thair was in pretending that Colin was stil a fretful invalid. 

"U see we can't help lafing neerly all th tiem when we ar together," explaend Colin.  "And it duzn't sound il at all.  We tri to choek it bak but it wil berst out and that sounds wers than ever."

"Thair's wun thing that cums into mi miend so offen," sed Mary, "and I can scairsly ever hoeld in when I think of it sudenly.  I keep thinking supoez Colin's faes shuud get to luuk liek a fuul moon.  It isn't liek wun yet but he gets a tieny bit fater evry dae--and supoez sum morning it shuud luuk liek wun--whut shuud we do!"

"Bles us all, I can see tha' has a guud bit o' plae actin' to do," sed Susan Sowerby.  "But tha' woen't hav to keep it up much longger.  Mester Craven'll cum hoem."

"Do U think he wil?" askt Colin.  "Whi?"

Susan Sowerby chukld sofftly. 

"I supoez it 'ud ni braek thi hart if he found out befor tha' toeld him in tha' oen wae," she sed.  "Tha's laed awaek niets plannin' it."

"I cuudn't bair eny wun els to tel him," sed Colin.  "I think about diferent waes evry dae, I think now I just wont to run into his room." "That'd be a fien start for him," sed Susan Sowerby.  "I'd liek to see his faes, lad.  I wuud that! He mun cum bak --that he mun."

Wun of th things thae taukt of was th vizit thae wer to maek to her cotej.  Thae pland it all.  Thae wer to driev oever th mur and lunch out of dors amung th hether.  Thae wuud see all th twelv children and Dickon's garden and wuud not cum bak until thae wer tierd. 

Susan Sowerby got up at last to retern to th hous and Mrs. Medlock.  It was tiem for Colin to be wheeld bak allso.  But befor he got into his chair he stuud qiet cloes to Susan and fixt his ies on her with a kiend of bewilderd adoration and he sudenly caut hoeld of th foeld of her bloo cloek and held it fast. 

"U ar just whut I--whut I wonted," he sed.  "I wish U wer mi muther--as wel as Dickon's!"

All at wuns Susan Sowerby bent doun and droo him with her worm arms cloes agenst th buuzom under th bloo cloek--as if he had bin Dickon's bruther.  Th qik mist swept oever her ies. 

"Eh! deer lad!" she sed.  "Thi oen mother's in this 'ere verry garden, I do beleev.  She couldna' keep out of it.  Thi faather mun cum bak to thee--he mun!"





CHAPTER XXVII

IN TH GARDEN


 In eech senchery sinss th begining of th werld wunderful things hav bin discuverd.  In th last senchery mor amaezing things wer found out than in eny senchery befor.  In this nue senchery hundreds of things stil mor astounding wil be braut to liet.  At ferst peepl refuez to beleev that a straenj nue thing can be dun, then thae begin to hoep it can be dun, then thae see it can be dun--then it is dun and all th werld wunders whi it was not dun sencherys ago.  Wun of th nue things peepl began to fiend out in th last senchery was that thauts--just meer thauts--ar as powerful as electric baterys--as guud for wun as sunliet is, or as bad for wun as poizon.  To let a sad thaut or a bad wun get into yur miend is as daenjerus as leting a scarlet feever jerm get into yur body.  If U let it stae thair after it has got in U mae never get oever it as long as U liv. 

So long as Mistres Mary's miend was fuul of disagreeabl thauts about her dislieks and sour opinyons of peepl and her determinaeshun not to be pleezd bi or interested in enything, she was a yelo-faest, sikly, bord and reched chield.  Sercumstanses, however, wer verry kiend to her, tho she was not at all awair of it.  Thae began to puush her about for her oen guud.  When her miend grajualy fild itself with robins, and murland cotejes crouded with children, with qeer crabd oeld gardners and comon litl Yorkshire housemaids, with springtiem and with seecret gardens cuming aliev dae bi dae, and allso with a mur boi and his "creechers," thair was no room left for th disagreeabl thauts which afected her liver and her dijeschun and maed her yelo and tierd. 

So long as Colin shut himself up in his room and thaut oenly of his feers and weeknes and his deetestaeshun of peepl hoo luukt at him and reflected ourly on humps and erly deth, he was a histerrical haf-craezy litl hypochondriac hoo nue nuthing of th sunshien and th spring and allso did not noe that he cuud get wel and cuud stand upon his feet if he tried to do it.  When nue buetyful thauts began to puush out th oeld hidius wuns, lief began to cum bak to him, his blud ran helthily thru his vaens and strength pord into him liek a flud.  His sieentific experriment was qiet practical and simpl and thair was nuthing weerd about it at all.  Much mor serpriezing things can hapen to eny wun hoo, when a disagreeabl or discurejd thaut cums into his miend, just has th sens to remember in tiem and puush it out bi puuting in an agreeabl determindly curaejus wun.  Too things cannot be in wun plaes. 

         "Wherr, U tend a roez, mi lad,          A thistle cannot gro."

Whiel th seecret garden was cuming aliev and too children wer cuming aliev with it, thair was a man waandering about serten far-awae buetyful plaeses in th Norwegian fiords and th valys and mountens of Switzerland and he was a man hoo for ten yeers had kept his miend fild with dark and hart-broeken thinking.  He had not bin curaejus; he had never tried to puut eny uther thauts in th plaes of th dark wuns.  He had waanderd bi bloo laeks and thaut them; he had laen on mounten-sieds with sheets of deep bloo jenshans blooming all about him and flower breths filing all th air and he had thaut them.  A terribl sorro had fallen upon him when he had bin hapy and he had let his soel fil itself with blaknes and had refuezd obstinately to alow eny rift of liet to peers thru.  He had forgoten and dezurted his hoem and his duetys.  When he traveld about, darknes so brooded oever him that th siet of him was a rong dun to uther peepl becauz it was as if he poizond th air about him with gloom.  Moest straenjers thaut he must be eether haf mad or a man with sum hiden criem on his soel.  He, was a tall man with a drawn faes and cruuked shoelders and th naem he allwaes enterd on hoetel rejisters was, "Archibald Craeven, Misselthwaite Manor, Yorkshire, England."

He had traveld far and wied sinss th dae he saw Mistres Mary in his study and toeld her she miet hav her "bit of erth." He had bin in th moest buetyful plaeses in Europe, tho he had remaend noewherr mor than a fue daes.  He had choezen th quietest and remoetest spots.  He had bin on th tops of mountens hoos heds wer in th clouds and had luukt doun on uther mountens when th sun roez and tucht them with such liet as maed it seem as if th werld wer just being born. 

But th liet had never seemd to tuch himself until wun dae when he reealiezd that for th ferst tiem in ten yeers a straenj thing had hapend.  He was in a wunderful valy in th Austrian Tyrol and he had bin wauking aloen thru such buety as miet hav lifted, eny man's soel out of shado.  He had waukt a long wae and it had not lifted his.  But at last he had felt tierd and had throen himself doun to rest on a carpet of moss bi a streem.  It was a cleer litl streem which ran qiet merrily along on its narro wae thru th lushus damp greennes.  Sumtiems it maed a sound rather liek verry lo lafter as it bubld oever and round stoens.  He saw berds cum and dip thair heds to drink in it and then flik thair wings and fli awae.  It seemd liek a thing aliev and yet its tieny vois maed th stilnes seem deeper.  Th valy was verry, verry stil. 

As he sat gaezing into th cleer runing of th wauter, Archibald Craeven grajualy felt his miend and body boeth gro qieet, as qieet as th valy itself.  He wunderd if he wer going to sleep, but he was not.  He sat and gaezd at th sunlit wauter and his ies began to see things groeing at its ej.  Thair was wun luvly mas of bloo forget-me-nots groeing so cloes to th streem that its leevs wer wet and at thees he found himself luuking as he rememberd he had luukt at such things yeers ago.  He was akchualy thinking tenderly how luvly it was and whut wunders of bloo its hundreds of litl blosoms wer.  He did not noe that just that simpl thaut was sloely filing his miend--filing and filing it until uther things wer sofftly puusht asied.  It was as if a sweet cleer spring had begun to riez in a stagnant pool and had rizen and rizen until at last it sweptthe dark wauter awae.  But of cors he did not think of this himself.  He oenly nue that th valy seemd to gro qieeter and qieeter as he sat and staird at th briet deliket blueness.  He did not noe how long he sat thair or whut was hapening to him, but at last he moovd as if he wer awaekening and he got up sloely and stuud on th moss carpet, drawing a long, deep, sofft breth and wundering at himself.  Sumthing seemd to hav bin unbound and releest in him, verry qieetly. 

"Whut is it?" he sed, allmoest in a whisper, and he past his hand oever his forhed.  "I allmoest feel as if--I wer aliev!"

I do not noe enuf about th wunderfulnes of undiscovered things to be aebl to explaen how this had hapend to him.  Neether duz eny wun els yet.  He did not understand at all himself--but he rememberd this straenj our munths afterward when he was at Misselthwaite agen and he found out qiet bi acsident that on this verry dae Colin had cried out as he went into th seecret garden:

"I am going to liv forever and ever and ever!"

Th singguelar caamnes remaend with him th rest of th eevning and he slept a nue reposeful sleep; but it was not with him verry long.  He did not noe that it cuud be kept.  Bi th next niet he had oepend th dors wied to his dark thauts and thae had cum trooping and rushing bak.  He left th valy and went on his waandering wae agen.  But, straenj as it seemd to him, thair wer minits--sumtiems haf-ours--when, without his noeing whi, th blak berden seemd to lift itself agen and he nue he was a living man and not a ded wun.  Sloely--sloely--for no reezon that he nue of--he was "cuming aliev" with th garden. 

As th goelden sumer chaenjd into th deep goelden autum he went to th Laek of Como.  Thair he found th luvlynes of a dreem.  He spent his daes upon th cristal blueness of th laek or he waukt bak into th sofft thik verjer of th hils and trampt until he was tierd so that he miet sleep.  But bi this tiem he had begun to sleep beter, he nue, and his dreems had seest to be a terror to him. 

"Perhaps," he thaut, "mi body is groeing strongger."

It was groeing strongger but--becauz of th rair peesful ours when his thauts wer chaenjd--his soel was sloely groeing strongger, too.  He began to think of Misselthwaite and wunder if he shuud not go hoem.  Now and then he wunderd vaegly about his boi and askt himself whut he shuud feel when he went and stuud bi th carvd foer-poested bed agen and luukt doun at th sharply chizeld ievory-whiet faes whiel it slept and, th blak lashes rimd so startlingly th cloes-shut ies.  He shrank frum it. 

Wun marvel of a dae he had waukt so far that when he reternd th moon was hi and fuul and all th werld was perpl shado and silver.  Th stilnes of laek and shor and wuud was so wunderful that he did not go into th vila he livd in.  He waukt doun to a litl bowered terres at th water's ej and sat upon a seet and breethd in all th hevenly sents of th niet.  He felt th straenj caamnes steeling oever him and it groo deeper and deeper until he fel asleep. 

He did not noe when he fel asleep and when he began to dreem; his dreem was so reeal that he did not feel as if he wer dreeming.  He rememberd afterward how intensly wied awaek and alert he had thaut he was.  He thaut that as he sat and breethd in th sent of th laet roezes and lisend to th laping of th wauter at his feet he herd a vois calling.  It was sweet and cleer and hapy and far awae.  It seemd verry far, but he herd it as distinktly as if it had bin at his verry sied. 

"Archie! Archie! Archie!" it sed, and then agen, sweeter and cleerer than befor, "Archie! Archie!"

He thaut he sprang to his feet not eeven startld.  It was such a reeal vois and it seemd so nacheral that he shuud heer it. 

"Lilias! Lilias!" he anserd.  "Lilias! wherr ar U?"

"In th garden," it caem bak liek a sound frum a goelden floot.  "In th garden!"

And then th dreem ended.  But he did not awaeken.  He slept soundly and sweetly all thru th luvly niet.  When he did awaek at last it was brilyant morning and a servant was standing stairing at him.  He was an Italian servant and was acustomd, as all th servants of th vila wer, to acsepting without qeschun eny straenj thing his forin master miet do.  No wun ever nue when he wuud go out or cum in or wherr he wuud chooz to sleep or if he wuud roem about th garden or lie in th boet on th laek all niet.  Th man held a salver with sum leters on it and he waeted qieetly until Mr. Craeven tuuk them.  When he had gon awae Mr. Craeven sat a fue moements hoelding them in his hand and luuking at th laek.  His straenj caam was stil upon him and sumthing mor--a lietnes as if th crooel thing which had bin dun had not hapend as he thaut--as if sumthing had chaenjd.  He was remembering th dreem--th reeal--reeal dreem. 

"In th garden!" he sed, wundering at himself.  "In th garden! But th dor is lokt and th kee is berryd deep."

When he glanst at th leters a fue minits laeter he saw that th wun lieing at th top of th rest was an English leter and caem frum Yorkshire.  It was directed in a plaen woman's hand but it was not a hand he nue.  He oepend it, scairsly thinking of th rieter, but th ferst werds atracted his atenshun at wuns. 

 "Deer Ser:

I am Susan Sowerby that maed boeld to speek to U wuns on th mur.  It was about Mis Mary I spoek.  I wil maek boeld to speek agen.  Pleez, ser, I wuud cum hoem if I was U.  I think U wuud be glad to cum and--if U wil excuez me, ser--I think yur laedy wuud ask U to cum if she was heer.

                      Yur oebeedyent servant, 

                      Susan Sowerby."

 Mr. Craeven reed th leter twies befor he puut it bak in its enveloep.  He kept thinking about th dreem. 

"I wil go bak to Misselthwaite," he sed.  "Yes, I'l go at wuns."

And he went thru th garden to th vila and orderd Picher to prepair for his retern to England. 

 In a fue daes he was in Yorkshire agen, and on his long raelroed jerny he found himself thinking of his boi as he had never thaut in all th ten yeers past.  During thoes yeers he had oenly wisht to forget him.  Now, tho he did not intend to think about him, memorys of him constantly drifted into his miend.  He rememberd th blak daes when he had raved liek a madman becauz th chield was aliev and th muther was ded.  He had refuezd to see it, and when he had gon to luuk at it at last it had bin, such a weak reched thing that evrywun had bin shur it wuud die in a fue daes.  But to th serpriez of thoes hoo tuuk cair of it th daes past and it livd and then evrywun beleevd it wuud be a deformed and cripld creecher. 

He had not ment to be a bad faather, but he had not felt liek a faather at all.  He had suplied doctors and nerses and lugzhurys, but he had shrunk frum th meer thaut of th boi and had berryd himself in his oen mizery.  Th ferst tiem after a year's absens he reternd to Misselthwaite and th small mizerabl luuking thing languidly and indiferently lifted to his faes th graet grae ies with blak lashes round them, so liek and yet so horribly unliek th hapy ies he had adord, he cuud not bair th siet of them and ternd awae pael as deth.  After that he scairsly ever saw him exsept when he was asleep, and all he nue of him was that he was a confermd invalid, with a vishus, histerrical, haf-insaen temper.  He cuud oenly be kept frum furies daenjerus to himself bi being given his oen wae in evry deetael. 

All this was not an uplifting thing to recall, but as th traen wherld him thru mounten pases and goelden plaens th man hoo was "cuming aliev" began to think in a nue wae and he thaut long and stedily and deeply. 

"Perhaps I hav bin all rong for ten yeers," he sed to himself.  "Ten yeers is a long tiem.  It mae be too laet to do enything--qiet too laet.  Whut hav I bin thinking of!"

Of cors this was th rong Majic--to begin bi saeing "too laet." Eeven Colin cuud hav toeld him that.  But he nue nuthing of Majic--eether blak or whiet.  This he had yet to lern.  He wunderd if Susan Sowerby had taeken curej and riten to him oenly becauz th mutherly creecher had reealiezd that th boi was much wers--was faetaly il.  If he had not bin under th spel of th cuerius caamnes which had taeken pozeshun of him he wuud hav bin mor reched than ever.  But th caam had braut a sort of curej and hoep with it.  Insted of giving wae to thauts of th werst he akchualy found he was trieing to beleev in beter things. 

"Cuud it be posibl that she sees that I mae be aebl to do him guud and controel him? " he thaut.  "I wil go and see her on mi wae to Misselthwaite."

But when on his wae across th mur he stopt th carrej at th cotej, seven or aet children hoo wer plaeing about gatherd in a groop and bobing seven or aet frendly and poliet curtsies toeld him that thair muther had gon to th uther sied of th mur erly in th morning to help a wuuman hoo had a nue baeby.  "Our Dickon," thae volunteerd, was oever at th Manor werking in wun of th gardens wherr he went several daes eech week. 

Mr. Craeven luukt oever th colecshun of sterdy litl bodys and round red-cheeked faeses, eech wun grining in its oen particuelar wae, and he awoek to th fact that thae wer a helthy liekabl lot.  He smield at thair frendly grins and tuuk a goelden sovrin frum his poket and gaev it to "our 'lizabeth Ellen" hoo was th oeldest. 

"If U divied that into aet parts thair wil be haf a croun for eech of, U," he sed. 

Then amid grins and chukls and bobing of curtsies he droev awae, leeving extasy and nujing elboes and litl jumps of joi behiend. 

Th driev across th wunderfulnes of th mur was a soothing thing.  Whi did it seem to giv him a sens of hoemcuming which he had bin shur he cuud never feel agen--that sens of th buety of land and skie and perpl bloom of distans and a worming of th hart at drawing, neerer to th graet oeld hous which had held thoes of his blud for six hundred yeers? How he had driven awae frum it th last tiem, shudering to think of its cloezd rooms and th boi lieing in th foer-poested bed with th broecaeded hangings.  Was it posibl that perhaps he miet fiend him chaenjd a litl for th beter and that he miet oevercum his shrinking frum him? How reeal that dreem had bin--how wunderful and cleer th vois which calld bak to him, "In th garden--In th garden!"

"I wil tri to fiend th kee," he sed.  "I wil tri to oepen th dor.  I must--tho I don't noe whi."

When he arievd at th Manor th servants hoo reseevd him with th uezhual serremoeny noetist that he luukt beter and that he did not go to th remoet rooms wherr he uezhualy livd atended bi Picher.  He went into th liebrairy and sent for Mrs. Medlock.  She caem to him sumwhut exsieted and cuerius and flusterd. 

"How is Master Colin, Medlock?" he inqierd.  "Wel, ser," Mrs. Medlock anserd, "he's--he's diferent, in a maner of speeking."

"Wers?" he sugjested. 

Mrs. Medlock reealy was flusht. 

"Wel, U see, ser," she tried to explaen, "neether Dr. Craeven, nor th ners, nor me can exactly maek him out."

"Whi is that?"

"To tel th trooth, ser, Master Colin miet be beter and he miet be chaenjing for th wers.  His apetiet, ser, is past understanding--and his waes--"

"Has he becum mor--mor pecuelyar?" her master, askt, niting his brous ankshusly. 

"That's it, ser.  He's groeing verry pecuelyar--when U compair him with whut he uezd to be.  He uezd to eet nuthing and then sudenly he began to eet sumthing enormus --and then he stopt agen all at wuns and th meels wer sent bak just as thae uezd to be.  U never nue, ser, perhaps, that out of dors he never wuud let himself be taeken.  Th things we'v gon thru to get him to go out in his chair wuud leev a body trembling liek a leef.  He'd thro himself into such a staet that Dr. Craeven sed he cuudn't be responsibl for forsing him.  Wel, ser, just without worning--not long after wun of his werst tantrums he sudenly insisted on being taeken out evry dae bi Mis Mary and Susan Sowerby's boi Dickon that cuud puush his chair.  He tuuk a fansy to boeth Mis Mary and Dickon, and Dickon braut his taem animals, and, if U'l credit it, ser, out of dors he wil stae frum morning until niet."

"How duz he luuk?" was th next qeschun. 

"If he tuuk his food nacheral, ser, U'd think he was puuting on flesh--but we'r afraed it mae be a sort of bloet.  He lafs sumtiems in a qeer wae when he's aloen with Mis Mary.  He never uezd to laf at all.  Dr. Craeven is cuming to see U at wuns, if U'l alow him.  He never was as puzld in his lief."

"Wherr is Master Colin now?" Mr. Craeven askt. 

"In th garden, ser.  He's allwaes in th garden--tho not a hueman creecher is alowd to go neer for feer thae'l luuk at him."

Mr. Craeven scairsly herd her last werds. 

"In th garden," he sed, and after he had sent Mrs. Medlock awae he stuud and repeeted it agen and agen.  "In th garden!"

He had to maek an efort to bring himself bak to th plaes he was standing in and when he felt he was on erth agen he ternd and went out of th room.  He tuuk his wae, as Mary had dun, thru th dor in th shrubery and amung th lorels and th founten beds.  Th founten was plaeing now and was ensercld bi beds of brilyant autum flowers.  He crosst th laun and ternd into th Long Wauk bi th ievyd walls.  He did not wauk qikly, but sloely, and his ies wer on th path.  He felt as if he wer being drawn bak to th plaes he had so long forsaeken, and he did not noe whi.  As he droo neer to it his step becaem stil mor slo.  He nue wherr th dor was eeven tho th ievy hung thik oever it--but he did not noe exactly wherr it lae--that berryd kee. 

So he stopt and stuud stil, luuking about him, and allmoest th moement after he had pauzd he started and lisend--asking himself if he wer wauking in a dreem. 

Th ievy hung thik oever th dor, th kee was berryd under th shrubs, no hueman being had past that portal for ten loenly yeers--and yet insied th garden thair wer sounds.  Thae wer th sounds of runing scufling feet seeming to chaes round and round under th trees, thae wer straenj sounds of loeerd suprest voises--exclamaeshuns and smutherd joius cries.  It seemd akchualy liek th lafter of yung things, th uncontroelabl lafter of children hoo wer trieing not to be herd but hoo in a moement or so--as thair exsietment mounted--wuud berst forth.  Whut in heaven's naem was he dreeming of--whut in heaven's naem did he heer? Was he loozing his reezon and thinking he herd things which wer not for hueman eers? Was it that th far cleer vois had ment?

And then th moement caem, th uncontroelabl moement when th sounds forgot to hush themselvs.  Th feet ran faster and faster--thae wer neering th garden dor--thair was qik strong yung breething and a wield outbraek of lafing shoes which cuud not be contaend--and th dor in th wall was flung wied oepen, th sheet of ievy swinging bak, and a boi berst thru it at fuul speed and, without seeing th outsieder, dasht allmoest into his arms. 

Mr. Craeven had extended them just in tiem to saev him frum falling as a rezult of his unseeing dash agenst him, and when he held him awae to luuk at him in amaezment at his being thair he trooly gaspt for breth. 

He was a tall boi and a hansum wun.  He was gloeing with lief and his runing had sent splendid culor leeping to his faes.  He throo th thik hair bak frum his forhed and lifted a pair of straenj grae ies--ies fuul of boiish lafter and rimd with blak lashes liek a frinj.  It was th ies which maed Mr. Craeven gasp for breth.  "Hoo--Whut? Hoo!" he stamerd. 

This was not whut Colin had expected--this was not whut he had pland.  He had never thaut of such a meeting.  And yet to cum dashing out--wining a raes--perhaps it was eeven beter.  He droo himself up to his verry tallest.  Mary, hoo had bin runing with him and had dasht thru th dor too, beleevd that he manejd to maek himself luuk taller than he had ever luukt befor--inches taller. 

"Faather," he sed, "I'm Colin.  U can't beleev it.  I scairsly can mieself.  I'm Colin."

Liek Mrs. Medlock, he did not understand whut his faather ment when he sed herydly:

"In th garden! In th garden!"

"Yes," heryd on Colin.  "It was th garden that did it--and Mary and Dickon and th creechers--and th Majic.  No wun noes.  We kept it to tel U when U caem.  I'm wel, I can beet Mary in a raes.  I'm going to be an athleet."

He sed it all so liek a helthy boi--his faes flusht, his werds tumbling oever eech uther in his eegernes--that Mr. Craven's soel shuuk with unbeleeving joi. 

Colin puut out his hand and laed it on his father's arm. 

"Arn't U glad, Faather?" he ended.  "Arn't U glad? I'm going to liv forever and ever and ever!"

Mr. Craeven puut his hands on boeth th boy's shoelders and held him stil.  He nue he daird not eeven tri to speek for a moement. 

"Taek me into th garden, mi boi," he sed at last.  "And tel me all about it."

And so thae led him in. 

Th plaes was a wildernes of autum goeld and perpl and vieolet bloo and flaeming scarlet and on evry sied wer sheaves of laet lilys standing together--lilys which wer whiet or whiet and ruby.  He rememberd wel when th ferst of them had bin planted that just at this seezon of th yeer thair laet glorys shuud reveel themselvs.  Laet roezes cliemd and hung and clusterd and th sunshien deepening th hue of th yeloeing trees maed wun feel that wun, stuud in an embowered templ of goeld.  Th nuecumer stuud sielent just as th children had dun when thae caem into its grayness.  He luukt round and round. 

"I thaut it wuud be ded," he sed."

"Mary thaut so at ferst," sed Colin.  "But it caem aliev."

Then thae sat doun under thair tree--all but Colin, hoo wonted to stand whiel he toeld th story. 

It was th straenjest thing he had ever herd, Archibald Craeven thaut, as it was pord forth in hedlong boi fashun.  Mistery and Majic and wield creechers, th weerd midniet meeting--th cuming of th spring--th pashun of insulted pried which had dragd th yung Rajah to his feet to defi oeld Ben Weatherstaff to his faes.  Th od companyonship, th plae acting, th graet seecret so cairfuly kept.  Th lisener laft until teers caem into his ies and sumtiems teers caem into his ies when he was not lafing.  Th Athleet, th Lekcherer, th Sieentific Discuverer was a lafabl, luvabl, helthy yung hueman thing. 

"Now," he sed at th end of th story, "it need not be a seecret eny mor.  I dair sae it wil frieten them neerly into fits when thae see me--but I am never going to get into th chair agen.  I shal wauk bak with U, Faather--to th hous."

 Ben Weatherstaff's duetys rairly tuuk him awae frum th gardens, but on this ocaezhun he maed an excues to carry sum vejetabls to th kichen and being invieted into th servants' hall bi Mrs. Medlock to drink a glas of beer he was on th spot--as he had hoept to be--when th moest dramatic event Misselthwaite Manor had seen during th prezent jeneraeshun akchualy tuuk plaes.  Wun of th windoes luuking upon th cort-yard gaev allso a glimps of th laun.  Mrs. Medlock, noeing Ben had cum frum th gardens, hoept that he miet hav caut siet of his master and eeven bi chans of his meeting with Master Colin. 

"Did U see eether of them, Weatherstaff?" she askt. 

Ben tuuk his beer-mug frum his mouth and wiept his lips with th bak of his hand. 

"Ae, that I did," he anserd with a shroodly significant air. 

"Boeth of them?" sugjested Mrs. Medlock. 

"Boeth of 'em," reternd Ben Weatherstaff.  "Thank ye kiendly, ma'am, I cuud sup up anuther mug of it."

"Together?" sed Mrs. Medlock, haestily overfilling his beer-mug in her exsietment. 

"Together, ma'am," and Ben gulped doun haf of his nue mug at wun gulp. 

"Wherr was Master Colin? How did he luuk? Whut did thae sae to eech uther?"

"I didna' heer that," sed Ben, "along o' oenly bein' on th' steplader lookin, oever th' wall.  But I'l tel thee this.  Thair's bin things goin' on outsied as U hous peepl noes nowt about.  An' whut tha'll fiend out tha'll fiend out soon."

And it was not too minits befor he swoloed th last of his beer and waevd his mug solemly tord th windo which tuuk in thru th shrubery a pees of th laun. 

"Luuk thair," he sed, "if tha's cuerius.  Luuk whut's comin' across th' gras."

When Mrs. Medlock luukt she throo up her hands and gaev a litl shreek and evry man and wuuman servant within heering boelted across th servants' hall and stuud luuking thru th windo with thair ies allmoest starting out of thair heds. 

Across th laun caem th Master of Misselthwaite and he luukt as meny of them had never seen him.  And bi his, sied with his hed up in th air and his ies fuul of lafter waukt as strongly and stedily as eny boi in Yorkshire--Master Colin. 



[End.]

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