Mary's Meadow, and Other Tales of Fields and Flowers
,-just as Arthur was going to be called John Parkinson. But I am a girl, so it seemed silly to take a man's name. And I wanted some kind o
ry it safely, and was still sitting thinki
r; but when Adela saw the bonnet, she ca
You couldn't be better if you were a real mill
eans becomes you, and let Adela take it into a corner a
lad you like it. To-morrow, if I can find a bit of pink tissue-paper, I thi
dily I dressed the par
e it simply perfect; and, kilts
r gro
you like, dear. Now,
, as you do with letters when you are acting, and said-"It's to Moth
d the letter, I
's Most Excel
big clump of daffodils out of the shrubbery-and we'll divide them fairly, for Harry is the Honestest Root-gatherer that ever came over to us. We have turned the whole of our gardens into a Paradisi in sole Paradisus terrestris, if you can construe that; but we must have something to make a start. He's got no end of bedding things over-that are doing nothing in the Kitchen Garden and might just as well be in our Earthly Paradise. And please tell him to keep us a tiny pinch of seed at the bottom of every paper when he is sowing the annuals. A little goes a long way, particularly of poppies. And you might give
to be, You
humble d
Park
thecary and
was Mar
Arthur!
style. But then, I thought, if I put the part about John in queer language and old spelling, she mightn't understand what we want. But ev
en his industry coming to an abrupt end, as it often did, he tossed it to me, saying, "You can address it, Mary;" so I enclosed it in my own letter t
t he should be able to get out of John, for when you are planning about a garden, you seem to have to do so much calculating. Suddenly he stop
ant spare things for our gardens
ld despise me, and Adela, and Harry, because we've taken your game, and got our parts, and y
weed," sa
docks and dandelions, and clear away the heap. But, never mind.
ave got a capital part. I h
u be dressed?
id I. "I have only jus
a grave and remorseful air; "because, if not, you must
ad aloud the bit that
ook out the Book of Paradise. His letter wa
. And it just suits you. It suits y
etter,"
of me," said Harry. "When I'm d
tting with the Book of Paradise in his lap, "what ha
ust reading there when Ja
said Adela; "not so unselfish. He took care of the Queen's Gardens, but
d harder to shake up something that was
he hedges (and I suppose he wouldn't let his root-gatherers grub it up, ei
l-travellers. I've got a name for your part just coming into my head. But it dodges out again like a wire-worm through a three-pronged fork. T
ghtshade?"
fiddle
?" I su
it begins
is?" sa
ler's Joy. And that's the name for you, Mary, because you're going to serve
Joy," said Ha
and she waved the We
, but it was too good
he took the point of my chin in his two hands and lifted up my cheeks to be kissed,
ack that letter. I must put another postscript and another puzzlewig. 'P.P.S.-Excellent Majesty: Mary will still be