English
Itwasthesweetest,mostmysterious-lookingplaceanyonecouldimagine.
Thehighwallswhichshutitinwerecoveredwiththeleaflessstemsofclimbingroseswhichweresothickthattheyweremattedtogether.
MaryLennoxknewtheywererosesbecauseshehadseenagreatmanyrosesinIndia.
Allthegroundwascoveredwithgrassofawintrybrownandoutofitgrewclumpsofbusheswhichweresurelyrosebushesiftheywerealive.
Therewerenumbersofstandardroseswhichhadsospreadtheirbranchesthattheywerelikelittletrees.
Therewereothertreesinthegarden,andoneofthethingswhichmadetheplacelookstrangestandloveliestwasthatclimbingroseshadrunalloverthemandswungdownlongtendrilswhichmadelightswayingcurtains,andhereandtheretheyhadcaughtateachotheroratafar-reachingbranchandhadcreptfromonetreetoanotherandmadelovelybridgesofthemselves.
TherewereneitherleavesnorrosesonthemnowandMarydidnotknowwhethertheyweredeadoralive,buttheirthingrayorbrownbranchesandsprayslookedlikeasortofhazymantlespreadingovereverything,walls,andtrees,andevenbrowngrass,wheretheyhadfallenfromtheirfasteningsandrunalongtheground.
Itwasthishazytanglefromtreetotreewhichmadeitalllooksomysterious.
Maryhadthoughtitmustbedifferentfromothergardenswhichhadnotbeenleftallbythemselvessolong;andindeeditwasdifferentfromanyotherplaceshehadeverseeninherlife.
“Howstillitis!”shewhispered.“Howstill!”
Thenshewaitedamomentandlistenedatthestillness.
Therobin,whohadflowntohistreetop,wasstillasalltherest.
Hedidnotevenflutterhiswings;hesatwithoutstirring,andlookedatMary.
“Nowonderitisstill,”shewhisperedagain.“Iamthefirstpersonwhohasspokeninherefortenyears.”
Shemovedawayfromthedoor,steppingassoftlyasifshewereafraidofawakeningsomeone.
Shewasgladthattherewasgrassunderherfeetandthatherstepsmadenosounds.
Shewalkedunderoneofthefairy-likegrayarchesbetweenthetreesandlookedupatthespraysandtendrilswhichformedthem.
“Iwonderiftheyareallquitedead,”shesaid.“Isitallaquitedeadgarden?Iwishitwasn’t.”
IfshehadbeenBenWeatherstaffshecouldhavetoldwhetherthewoodwasalivebylookingatit,butshecouldonlyseethattherewereonlygrayorbrownspraysandbranchesandnoneshowedanysignsofevenatinyleaf-budanywhere.
Butshewasinsidethewonderfulgardenandshecouldcomethroughthedoorundertheivyanytimeandshefeltasifshehadfoundaworldallherown.
ThesunwasshininginsidethefourwallsandthehigharchofblueskyoverthisparticularpieceofMisselthwaiteseemedevenmorebrilliantandsoftthanitwasoverthemoor.
Therobinflewdownfromhistree-topandhoppedaboutorflewafterherfromonebushtoanother.
Hechirpedagooddealandhadaverybusyair,asifhewereshowingherthings.
Everythingwasstrangeandsilentandsheseemedtobehundredsofmilesawayfromanyone,butsomehowshedidnotfeellonelyatall.
Allthattroubledherwasherwishthatsheknewwhetheralltherosesweredead,orifperhapssomeofthemhadlivedandmightputoutleavesandbudsastheweathergotwarmer.
Shedidnotwantittobeaquitedeadgarden.
Ifitwereaquitealivegarden,howwonderfulitwouldbe,andwhatthousandsofroseswouldgrowoneveryside!
Herskipping-ropehadhungoverherarmwhenshecameinandaftershehadwalkedaboutforawhileshethoughtshewouldskiproundthewholegarden,stoppingwhenshewantedtolookatthings.
Thereseemedtohavebeengrasspathshereandthere,andinoneortwocornerstherewerealcovesofevergreenwithstoneseatsortallmoss-coveredflowerurnsinthem.
Asshecamenearthesecondofthesealcovesshestoppedskipping.
Therehadoncebeenaflowerbedinit,andshethoughtshesawsomethingstickingoutoftheblackearth—somesharplittlepalegreenpoints.
SherememberedwhatBenWeatherstaffhadsaidandshekneltdowntolookatthem.
“Yes,theyaretinygrowingthingsandtheymightbecrocusesorsnowdropsordaffodils,”shewhispered.
Shebentveryclosetothemandsniffedthefreshscentofthedampearth.Shelikeditverymuch.
“Perhapstherearesomeotheronescomingupinotherplaces,”shesaid.“Iwillgoalloverthegardenandlook.”
Shedidnotskip,butwalked.Shewentslowlyandkepthereyesontheground.
Shelookedintheoldborderbedsandamongthegrass,andaftershehadgoneround,tryingtomissnothing,shehadfoundeversomanymoresharp,palegreenpoints,andshehadbecomequiteexcitedagain.
“Itisn’taquitedeadgarden,”shecriedoutsoftlytoherself.“Eveniftherosesaredead,thereareotherthingsalive.”
Shedidnotknowanythingaboutgardening,butthegrassseemedsothickinsomeoftheplaceswherethegreenpointswerepushingtheirwaythroughthatshethoughttheydidnotseemtohaveroomenoughtogrow.
Shesearchedaboutuntilshefoundarathersharppieceofwoodandkneltdownanddugandweededouttheweedsandgrassuntilshemadenicelittleclearplacesaroundthem.
“Nowtheylookasiftheycouldbreathe,”shesaid,aftershehadfinishedwiththefirstones.“Iamgoingtodoeversomanymore.I’lldoallIcansee.
IfIhaven’ttimetodayIcancometomorrow.”
Shewentfromplacetoplace,anddugandweeded,andenjoyedherselfsoimmenselythatshewasledonfrombedtobedandintothegrassunderthetrees.
Theexercisemadehersowarmthatshefirstthrewhercoatoff,andthenherhat,andwithoutknowingitshewassmilingdownontothegrassandthepalegreenpointsallthetime.
Therobinwastremendouslybusy.Hewasverymuchpleasedtoseegardeningbegunonhisownestate.
HehadoftenwonderedatBenWeatherstaff.
Wheregardeningisdoneallsortsofdelightfulthingstoeatareturnedupwiththesoil.
NowherewasthisnewkindofcreaturewhowasnothalfBen’ssizeandyethadhadthesensetocomeintohisgardenandbeginatonce.
MistressMaryworkedinhergardenuntilitwastimetogotohermiddaydinner.
Infact,shewasratherlateinremembering,andwhensheputonhercoatandhat,andpickedupherskipping-rope,shecouldnotbelievethatshehadbeenworkingtwoorthreehours.
Shehadbeenactuallyhappyallthetime;anddozensanddozensofthetiny,palegreenpointsweretobeseeninclearedplaces,lookingtwiceascheerfulastheyhadlookedbeforewhenthegrassandweedshadbeensmotheringthem.
“Ishallcomebackthisafternoon,”shesaid,lookingallroundathernewkingdom,andspeakingtothetreesandtherose-bushesasiftheyheardher.
Thensheranlightlyacrossthegrass,pushedopentheslowolddoorandslippedthroughitundertheivy.ShehadsuchredcheeksandsuchbrighteyesandatesuchadinnerthatMarthawasdelighted.
“Twopieceso’meatan’twohelpso’ricepuddin’!”shesaid.“Eh!motherwillbepleasedwhenItellherwhatth’skippin’-rope’sdoneforthee.”
InthecourseofherdiggingwithherpointedstickMistressMaryhadfoundherselfdiggingupasortofwhiterootratherlikeanonion.
ShehadputitbackinitsplaceandpattedtheearthcarefullydownonitandjustnowshewonderedifMarthacouldtellherwhatitwas.
“Martha,”shesaid,“whatarethosewhiterootsthatlooklikeonions?”
“They’rebulbs,”answeredMartha.“Lotso’springflowersgrowfrom‘em.
Th’verylittleonesaresnowdropsan’crocusesan’th’bigonesarenarcissusesan’jonquilsanddaffydowndillys.
Th’biggestofallisliliesan’purpleflags.Eh!theyarenice.
Dickon’sgotawholelotof‘emplantedinourbito’garden.”
“DoesDickonknowallaboutthem?”askedMary,anewideatakingpossessionofher.
“OurDickoncanmakeaflowergrowoutofabrickwalk.Mothersayshejustwhispersthingsouto’th’ground.”
“Dobulbslivealongtime?Wouldtheyliveyearsandyearsifnoonehelpedthem?”inquiredMaryanxiously.
“They’rethingsashelpsthemselves,”saidMartha.
“That’swhypoorfolkcanaffordtohave‘em.
Ifyoudon’ttrouble‘em,mostof‘em’llworkawayundergroundforalifetimean’spreadoutan’havelittle‘uns.
There’saplaceinth’parkwoodsherewherethere’ssnowdropsbythousands.
They’retheprettiestsightinYorkshirewhenth’springcomes.
Nooneknowswhentheywasfirstplanted.”
“Iwishthespringwasherenow,”saidMary.“IwanttoseeallthethingsthatgrowinEngland.”
Shehadfinishedherdinnerandgonetoherfavoriteseatonthehearth-rug.
“Iwish—IwishIhadalittlespade,”shesaid.
“Whateverdoestha’wantaspadefor?”askedMartha,laughing.“Arttha’goin’totaketodiggin’?Imusttellmotherthat,too.”
Marylookedatthefireandponderedalittle.
Shemustbecarefulifshemeanttokeephersecretkingdom.
Shewasn’tdoinganyharm,butifMr.Cravenfoundoutabouttheopendoorhewouldbefearfullyangryandgetanewkeyandlockitupforevermore.Shereallycouldnotbearthat.
“Thisissuchabiglonelyplace,”shesaidslowly,asifshewereturningmattersoverinhermind.
“Thehouseislonely,andtheparkislonely,andthegardensarelonely.Somanyplacesseemshutup.
IneverdidmanythingsinIndia,butthereweremorepeopletolookat—nativesandsoldiersmarchingby—andsometimesbandsplaying,andmyAyahtoldmestories.
ThereisnoonetotalktohereexceptyouandBenWeatherstaff.
AndyouhavetodoyourworkandBenWeatherstaffwon’tspeaktomeoften.
IthoughtifIhadalittlespadeIcoulddigsomewhereashedoes,andImightmakealittlegardenifhewouldgivemesomeseeds.”
Martha’sfacequitelightedup.
“Therenow!”sheexclaimed,“ifthatwasn’toneofth’thingsmothersaid.
Shesays,‘There’ssuchaloto’roominthatbigplace,whydon’ttheygiveherabitforherself,evenifshedoesn’tplantnothin’butparsleyan’radishes?
She’ddigan’rakeawayan’berightdownhappyoverit.’Themwastheverywordsshesaid.”
“Werethey?”saidMary.“Howmanythingssheknows,doesn’tshe?”
“Eh!”saidMartha.“It’slikeshesays:‘AwomanasbringsuptwelvechildrenlearnssomethingbesidesherABC.Children’sasgoodas‘rithmetictosetyoufindin’outthings.’”
“Howmuchwouldaspadecost—alittleone?”Maryasked.
“Well,”wasMartha’sreflectiveanswer,“atThwaitevillagethere’sashoporsoan’Isawlittlegardensetswithaspadean’arakean’aforkalltiedtogetherfortwoshillings.
An’theywasstoutenoughtoworkwith,too.”
“I’vegotmorethanthatinmypurse,”saidMary.“Mrs.MorrisongavemefiveshillingsandMrs.MedlockgavemesomemoneyfromMr.Craven.”
“Didheremembertheethatmuch?”exclaimedMartha.
“Mrs.MedlocksaidIwastohaveashillingaweektospend.ShegivesmeoneeverySaturday.Ididn’tknowwhattospenditon.”
“Myword!that’sriches,”saidMartha.
“Tha’canbuyanythinginth’worldtha’wants.
Th’rentofourcottageisonlyonean’threepencean’it’slikepullin’eye-teethtogetit.
NowI’vejustthoughtofsomethin’,”puttingherhandsonherhips.
“What?”saidMaryeagerly.
“IntheshopatThwaitetheysellpackageso’flower-seedsforapennyeach,andourDickonheknowswhichisth’prettiestonesan’howtomake‘emgrow.
HewalksovertoThwaitemanyadayjustforth’funofit.Doestha’knowhowtoprintletters?”suddenly.
“Iknowhowtowrite,”Maryanswered.
Marthashookherhead.
“OurDickoncanonlyreadprintin’.Iftha’couldprintwecouldwritealettertohiman’askhimtogoan’buyth’gardentoolsan’th’seedsatth’sametime.”
“Oh!you’reagoodgirl!”Marycried.“Youare,really!Ididn’tknowyouweresonice.IknowIcanprintlettersifItry.Let’saskMrs.Medlockforapenandinkandsomepaper.”
“I’vegotsomeofmyown,”saidMartha.“Ibought‘emsoIcouldprintabitofalettertomotherofaSunday.I’llgoandgetit.”
Sheranoutoftheroom,andMarystoodbythefireandtwistedherthinlittlehandstogetherwithsheerpleasure.
“IfIhaveaspade,”shewhispered,“Icanmaketheearthniceandsoftanddigupweeds.IfIhaveseedsandcanmakeflowersgrowthegardenwon’tbedeadatall—itwillcomealive.”
ShedidnotgooutagainthatafternoonbecausewhenMarthareturnedwithherpenandinkandpapershewasobligedtoclearthetableandcarrytheplatesanddishesdownstairsandwhenshegotintothekitchenMrs.Medlockwasthereandtoldhertodosomething,soMarywaitedforwhatseemedtoheralongtimebeforeshecameback.
ThenitwasaseriouspieceofworktowritetoDickon.
Maryhadbeentaughtverylittlebecausehergovernesseshaddislikedhertoomuchtostaywithher.
Shecouldnotspellparticularlywellbutshefoundthatshecouldprintletterswhenshetried.
ThiswastheletterMarthadictatedtoher:
“MyDearDickon:
Thiscomeshopingtofindyouwellasitleavesmeatpresent.
MissMaryhasplentyofmoneyandwillyougotoThwaiteandbuyhersomeflowerseedsandasetofgardentoolstomakeaflower-bed.
PicktheprettiestonesandeasytogrowbecauseshehasneverdoneitbeforeandlivedinIndiawhichisdifferent.
Givemylovetomotherandeveryoneofyou.
MissMaryisgoingtotellmealotmoresothatonmynextdayoutyoucanhearaboutelephantsandcamelsandgentlemengoinghuntinglionsandtigers.
“Yourlovingsister,
MarthaPhoebeSowerby.”
“We’llputthemoneyinth’envelopean’I’llgetth’butcherboytotakeitinhiscart.He’sagreatfriendo’Dickon’s,”saidMartha.
“HowshallIgetthethingswhenDickonbuysthem?”
“He’llbring‘emtoyouhimself.He’llliketowalkoverthisway.”
“Oh!”exclaimedMary,“thenIshallseehim!IneverthoughtIshouldseeDickon.”
“Doestha’wanttoseehim?”askedMarthasuddenly,forMaryhadlookedsopleased.
“Yes,Ido.Ineversawaboyfoxesandcrowsloved.Iwanttoseehimverymuch.”
Marthagavealittlestart,asifsherememberedsomething.
“Nowtothink,”shebrokeout,“tothinko’meforgettin’thatthere;an’IthoughtIwasgoin’totellyoufirstthingthismornin’.
Iaskedmother—andshesaidshe’daskMrs.Medlockherownself.”
“Doyoumean—”Marybegan.
“WhatIsaidTuesday.Askherifyoumightbedrivenovertoourcottagesomedayandhaveabito’mother’shotoatcake,an’butter,an’aglasso’milk.”
Itseemedasifalltheinterestingthingswerehappeninginoneday.
Tothinkofgoingoverthemoorinthedaylightandwhentheskywasblue!
Tothinkofgoingintothecottagewhichheldtwelvechildren!
“DoesshethinkMrs.Medlockwouldletmego?”sheasked,quiteanxiously.
“Aye,shethinksshewould.Sheknowswhatatidywomanmotherisandhowcleanshekeepsthecottage.”
“IfIwentIshouldseeyourmotheraswellasDickon,”saidMary,thinkingitoverandlikingtheideaverymuch.“Shedoesn’tseemtobelikethemothersinIndia.”
Herworkinthegardenandtheexcitementoftheafternoonendedbymakingherfeelquietandthoughtful.
Marthastayedwithheruntiltea-time,buttheysatincomfortablequietandtalkedverylittle.
ButjustbeforeMarthawentdownstairsforthetea-tray,Maryaskedaquestion.
“Martha,”shesaid,“hasthescullery-maidhadthetoothacheagaintoday?”
Marthacertainlystartedslightly.
“Whatmakestheeaskthat?”shesaid.
“BecausewhenIwaitedsolongforyoutocomebackIopenedthedoorandwalkeddownthecorridortoseeifyouwerecoming.
AndIheardthatfar-offcryingagain,justasweheardittheothernight.
Thereisn’tawindtoday,soyouseeitcouldn’thavebeenthewind.”
“Eh!”saidMartharestlessly.“Tha’mustn’tgowalkin’aboutincorridorsan’listenin’.Mr.Cravenwouldbethatthereangrythere’snoknowin’whathe’ddo.”
“Iwasn’tlistening,”saidMary.“Iwasjustwaitingforyou—andIheardit.That’sthreetimes.”
“Myword!There’sMrs.Medlock’sbell,”saidMartha,andshealmostranoutoftheroom.
“It’sthestrangesthouseanyoneeverlivedin,”saidMarydrowsily,asshedroppedherheadonthecushionedseatofthearmchairnearher.
Freshair,anddigging,andskipping-ropehadmadeherfeelsocomfortablytiredthatshefellasleep.
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