Таинственный сад

X. Dickon

           

           “Doyouthinkheis?”criedMaryeagerly.Shedidsowanttoknow.“Doyouthinkhereallylikesme?”

           “Hewouldn’tcomeneartheeifhedidn’t,”answeredDickon.“Birdsisrarechoosersan’arobincanfloutabodyworsethanaman.See,he’smakinguptotheenow.‘Cannottha’seeachap?’he’ssayin’.”

           Anditreallyseemedasifitmustbetrue.Hesosidledandtwitteredandtiltedashehoppedonhisbush.

           “Doyouunderstandeverythingbirdssay?”saidMary.

           Dickon’sgrinspreaduntilheseemedallwide,red,curvingmouth,andherubbedhisroughhead.

           “IthinkIdo,andtheythinkIdo,”hesaid.“I’velivedonth’moorwith’emsolong.I’vewatched’embreakshellan’comeoutan’fledgean’learntoflyan’begintosing,tillIthinkI’moneof’em.SometimesIthinkp’rapsI’mabird,orafox,orarabbit,orasquirrel,orevenabeetle,an’Idon’tknowit.”

           Helaughedandcamebacktothelogandbegantotalkabouttheflowerseedsagain.Hetoldherwhattheylookedlikewhentheywereflowers;hetoldherhowtoplantthem,andwatchthem,andfeedandwaterthem.

           “Seehere,”hesaidsuddenly,turningroundtolookather.“I’llplantthemfortheemyself.Whereistha’garden?”

           Mary’sthinhandsclutchedeachotherastheylayonherlap.Shedidnotknowwhattosay,soforawholeminuteshesaidnothing.Shehadneverthoughtofthis.Shefeltmiserable.Andshefeltasifshewentredandthenpale.

           “Tha’sgotabito’garden,hasn’ttha’?”Dickonsaid.

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