The Secret Garden

her room to lightthe fire and was kneeling on the hearth-rug rakingout the cinders noi

covered with tapestrywith a forest scene embroidered on it. There werefantastically dresse

ers and horses an

she were in the

stretch of land which seemed to have no trees on it,a

she said, pointing

ad just risen to her feet,looked and

oor," with a good-nat

s because tha'rt not used to it," Martha said,goin

' will like it.""Do

cheerfully polishingaway at the gra

i' growin' thing

in spring an' summe

r's in flower. It

high an' th' bees an' skylarks makes such a nicenoise

listened to her with a g

ere obsequiousand servile and did not presume to talk to their mastersas if they were thei

ere commanded to do

ered a little what this girl woulddo if one slapped her in the face. She was a round,rosy, good-natured-looking creature, but she h

vant," she said from her

blackingbrush in her hand,and laughed,

re was a grand Missusat Misselthwaite

let to be scullerymaidbut I'd never hav

. Seems like there's neither Master norMistress except Mr. Pitcher an' Mrs.

ays away. Mrs. Me

f Misselthwaite had been like other big houses.""Are you going to

an to rub he

ock's servant,"

work up here an' wait on you a bit. But you won't needmu

gain and stared. She spokein b

' dress thyse

I don't understand yo

edlock told me I'dhave to be careful o

y. "I never didin my life. My Ayah dressed me, of course.""Well," said Martha, ev

My mother always said she couldn'tsee why grand people's children didn

puppies!""It is different in India

d scarcely

was not at

mpathetically. "I dare say it's because there's sucha l

om India I thought you was a bla

. "What! You thoug

of a pig!"Martha s

aid. "You needn't beso vexed. That's

in tracts they're always very religious. You always readas

d to think I was go

o light your fire

there you was," disappointedly, "no more blackthan me--for all you'r

anything about natives! They are not people--they're ser

tare, and somehow she suddenly felt so horriblylonely and far away from everything she understoodand whi

ood-natured YorkshireMartha was a lit

the bed and

t cry like that t

sure. I didn't kn

hin' about anythin'

ng and really friendly in herqueer Yorkshire speech and sturdy way whic

looked

r thee to get u

id I was to carry

de into a nursery for thee. I'll help thee on with thycl

d to get up, the clothes Marthatook from the wardrobe were not the o

black."She looked the thick white wool coat

.""These are th' ones tha' m

red Mrs. Medlock t

have a child dresse

adder than it is. Put color on her.' Mother she said shek

black hersel'.""I hate b

s was one which taugh

ad never seen a child who stood still and waited for anotherperson

a' own shoes?" she saidwhen M

The nativeservants were always saying it. If one told them to doa thing their ancestors had not done for a thou

t before she was ready for breakfast shebegan to suspect that her life at Misselthwaite Manorwould end by teaching her a n

een more subservient and respectful andwould have known that it was her bu

aswarm of little brothers and sisters who had neverdreamed of doing anything but waiting on themselvesand

talk,but Mary only listened to her coldly and wondered at herfreedom of manner. At first she was not at all intere

f us an' my father only gets sixteen shilling a week. I ca

on th' moor an' pl

ens 'em. She says shebelieves they eat

nd he's got a young ponyhe calls his

mother when it wasa little one an'

bread an' pluck

ike him so it fol

on its back. Dicko

a slight interest in Dickon, and as shehad never before been interested in any one but herself,it was the dawning of a healthy senti

ldoak chairs. A table in the center was set with a goodsubstantial breakfast. But she had always had a very

want it,"

hy porridge!" Martha e

't know how good i

it o' sugar.""I don't

n was at this table they'dclean it bare in five minutes.""Why?" said Mary coldly. "

s.""I don't know what it is to be hungry,"

looked

" she said outspokenly. "I've nopatience with folk as sits an' just s

here under their pinafores.""Why don't

isn't my day out. I get my day out once a month samea

drank some tea and ate a lit

an' run out an' pl

meat."Mary went to the window. There were gardens and pa

go out on a day like

a'lt have to stay i

anced about her. The

had notthought of amusement. Perhaps it would b

go with me?"

tha s

tolearn to play like other children does when they hav

defriends with th' pony. He's got sheep on th' moor tha

ere is to eat, he a

which made Mary decideto go out, though she was not aware of it. Th

m the birds in India and itmi

her and a pair of stoutlittle boots

come to th' gardens,"she said, point

snothin' bloomin' now." She seemed to hesitate a seco

ed Mary in spite of herself. Here was anotherlock

it shut when his w

one go inside. I

or an' dug a hole

y turned down the walk which ledto the door in the shrubbery. She could n

ll alive in it. When she had passedthrough the shrubbery gate she found hers

ld grayfountain in its midst. But the flower-beds were bareand wintry and the fountain was not playing. Th

seemed to be along wall, with ivy growing over it. She was not familiarenough with England to

reendoor in the ivy, and that it stood open. This wasno

enwith walls all round it and that it was only one of se

revealing bushes andpathways betwee

gainst the wall,and over some of

tood and stared about her. It might be nicer in summerwhen

lkedthrough the door leading from the second garden. He

-but then she was displeased with his gardenand wore her "quite contr

this place?

kitchen-garden

Mary, pointing throug

'otherside o' th' wall an' there's th' orchard t'o

h and throughthe second green door. There, she found more wallsand winter vegetables an

ndle. She hoped the door would not openbecause she wanted to be sure she had found the mysteriousgarden--but it did open quite easily and she walkedthrough it and found herself in an orc

garden she had noticed that the walldid not seem to end with the orch

with a brightred breast sitting on the topmost branch of one of them,and suddenly he bu

sed feeling--evena disagreeable little girl may be lonely, and the big closedhouse and big bare mo

but even though she was "Mistress Mary Quite Contrary"she was desolate, and the bright-breasted little bir

dwondered if she should ever see him again. Perhaps h

othat she thought so much of the deserted garden. She

ed the key? If hehad liked his wife

him, and he wouldnot like her, and that she should only stand and stareat him and say not

me and I never like

talk as the Crawf

the robin and of the way he seemed to singhis song at her, and as she re

e placeand there was no door."She walked back into the first kitchen-garden she had enteredand found the

of her and so at l

nto the other ga

to prevent thee," h

"There was no dog at th' doo

there into the othe

in a rough voice, stoppin

r side of the wall," a

ise the surly old weather-beaten faceactually changed its expression. A slow smile spreadover it and the gardener looked quite

beganto whistle--a low soft whistle. She could not under

moment a wonderf

as the bird with the red breast flying to them,and he actually al

man, and then he spoketo the bird

Has tha,begun tha' courtin' this early in th' season? Tha'rttoo forrad."The bird put his tin

familiar and not

y gave Mary a queer feelingin her heart, because he was so pretty and cheerfuland seemed

hen you call him?" she a

ever since he wasa fledgling. He come

flyback for a few days an' we got friendly. When he we

e back to me.""What kind o

know? He's a rob

iendliest, curio

if you know how to geton with 'em. Wat

re talkin' about him."It was the queerest

scarlet-waistcoated birdas if he

folk talk about him. An' curious--bless me, there neverw

all th' things MesterCraven never t

e soil and nowand then stopped and looked at them a little. Mary

as if he were findi

t increased. "Where did therest

The old ones turn 'em

they're scattered

was lonely."Mistress Mary went a step near

onely,"

which made her feel sour and cross. She seemed to findit o

is cap back on his bald hea

ittle wench from

ry n

onely. Tha'lt be lonlier b

deep intothe rich black garden soil while

our name?" M

d up to a

h asurly chuckle, "I'm lonely mysel' except when he's wi

I have no friends at all,

It is a Yorkshire habit to say what you think withblunt fr

are a good bit

. We're neither of usgood lookin' an

n speaking, and Mary Lennox had never heardthe truth about herself in her l

Ben Weatherstaff and shealso wondered if she looked as sour as he had lookedbefore the robin

round. She was standing a few feetfrom a young apple-tree and the robin ha

rstaff laugh

e do that for

n. "Dang me if he hasn't took a fancy to thee.""To me?" said M

u?"And she did not say it either in her hard little voiceor in her imperious Indian voice, but in a tone so

t as nice an' human asif tha' was a r

like Dickon talks to

kon?" Mary asked, turnin

im. Dickon's wanderi

erries an' heathe

s an' th' skylarks doesn't hide their nests from hi

t just that moment the robin,who had ended his song, gave a little shake of his

the wall!" Mary cri

other wall--into the garden where there is no door!""He l

ives among th' old rose-trees there.""Rose-trees," said Mary. "Are ther

ten year' ago

r? There must be a door somewhere."Ben drove his spade deep and

ar' ago, but there

st be." "None as anyone can find,

poke your nose whereit's no cause to

ually stopped digging, threw his spade overhis shoulder an