Таинственный сад
X. Dickon
“IneverknowswhenIshallseetheeorwhichsidetha’llcomefrom.”
“He’sfriendswithmenow,”saidMary.
“That’slikehim,”snappedBenWeatherstaff.“Makin’uptoth’womenfolkjustforvanityan’flightiness.There’snothin’hewouldn’tdoforth’sakeo’showin’offan’flirtin’histail-feathers.He’sasfullo’prideasanegg’sfullo’meat.”
HeveryseldomtalkedmuchandsometimesdidnotevenanswerMary’squestionsexceptbyagrunt,butthismorninghesaidmorethanusual.Hestoodupandrestedonehobnailedbootonthetopofhisspadewhilehelookedherover.
“Howlonghastha’beenhere?”hejerkedout.
“Ithinkit’saboutamonth,”sheanswered.
“Tha’sbeginnin’todoMisselthwaitecredit,”hesaid.“Tha’sabitfatterthantha’wasan’tha’snotquitesoyeller.Tha’lookedlikeayoungpluckedcrowwhentha’firstcameintothisgarden.ThinksItomyselfIneverseteyesonanuglier,sourerfacedyoung’un.”
Marywasnotvainandasshehadneverthoughtmuchofherlooksshewasnotgreatlydisturbed.
“IknowI’mfatter,”shesaid.“Mystockingsaregettingtighter.Theyusedtomakewrinkles.There’stherobin,BenWeatherstaff.”
There,indeed,wastherobin,andshethoughthelookednicerthanever.Hisredwaistcoatwasasglossyassatinandheflirtedhiswingsandtailandtiltedhisheadandhoppedaboutwithallsortsoflivelygraces.HeseemeddeterminedtomakeBenWeatherstaffadmirehim.ButBenwassarcastic.
“Aye,theretha’art!”hesaid.
