Таємничий сад

           “Eh!itisgraidely,”hesaid.“I’mtwelvegoin’onthirteenan’there’saloto’afternoonsinthirteenyears,butseemstomelikeIneverseedoneasgraidelyasthis’ere.”

           “Aye,itisagraidelyone,”saidMary,andshesighedformerejoy.“I’llwarrantit’sthegraidelestoneaseverwasinthisworld.”

           “Doestha’think,”saidColinwithdreamycarefulness,“ashappenitwasmadeloikethis’ereallo’purposeforme?”

           “Myword!”criedMaryadmiringly,“thatthereisabito’goodYorkshire.Tha’rtshapin’first-rate—thattha’art.”

           Anddelightreigned.

           Theydrewthechairundertheplum-tree,whichwassnow-whitewithblossomsandmusicalwithbees.Itwaslikeaking’scanopy,afairyking’s.Therewerefloweringcherry-treesnearandapple-treeswhosebudswerepinkandwhite,andhereandthereonehadburstopenwide.Betweentheblossomingbranchesofthecanopybitsofblueskylookeddownlikewonderfuleyes.

           MaryandDickonworkedalittlehereandthereandColinwatchedthem.Theybroughthimthingstolookat—budswhichwereopening,budswhichweretightclosed,bitsoftwigwhoseleaveswerejustshowinggreen,thefeatherofawoodpeckerwhichhaddroppedonthegrass,theemptyshellofsomebirdearlyhatched.Dickonpushedthechairslowlyroundandroundthegarden,stoppingeveryothermomenttolethimlookatwondersspringingoutoftheearthortrailingdownfromtrees.Itwaslikebeingtakeninstateroundthecountryofamagickingandqueenandshownallthemysteriousrichesitcontained.