XXIV. “Let Them Laugh”

           ThesecretgardenwasnottheonlyoneDickonworkedin.Roundthecottageonthemoortherewasapieceofgroundenclosedbyalowwallofroughstones.EarlyinthemorningandlateinthefadingtwilightandonallthedaysColinandMarydidnotseehim,Dickonworkedthereplantingortendingpotatoesandcabbages,turnipsandcarrotsandherbsforhismother.Inthecompanyofhis“creatures”hedidwondersthereandwasnevertiredofdoingthem,itseemed.WhilehedugorweededhewhistledorsangbitsofYorkshiremoorsongsortalkedtoSootorCaptainorthebrothersandsistershehadtaughttohelphim.

           “We’dnevergetonascomfortableaswedo,”Mrs.Sowerbysaid,“ifitwasn’tforDickon’sgarden.Anything’llgrowforhim.His’tatersandcabbagesistwiceth’sizeofanyoneelse’san’they’vegotaflavorwith’emasnobody’shas.”

           Whenshefoundamomenttospareshelikedtogooutandtalktohim.Aftersuppertherewasstillalongcleartwilighttoworkinandthatwasherquiettime.Shecouldsituponthelowroughwallandlookonandhearstoriesoftheday.Shelovedthistime.Therewerenotonlyvegetablesinthisgarden.Dickonhadboughtpennypackagesofflowerseedsnowandthenandsownbrightsweet-scentedthingsamonggooseberrybushesandevencabbagesandhegrewbordersofmignonetteandpinksandpansiesandthingswhoseseedshecouldsaveyearafteryearorwhoserootswouldbloomeachspringandspreadintimeintofineclumps.